Read Between The Lines: Business of Love 6

by Parker, Ali

  After that, I pressed my back to the wall of the shower and slid all the way down until I was sitting on the floor in an inch of water with my knees drawn up to my chest. I rested my forehead against them, closed my eyes, and let the wave of pain I was holding back finally break over me.

  I cried for me and I cried for Walker.

  I cried for what I’d lost and what I’d stolen from him.

  Did he hate me?

  Did he wish he’d never come and talked to me at his gallery that night?

  Did he think I was a coward?

  Every thought was followed by another, and each and every one only left me feeling worse. It had just been days ago when I couldn’t imagine my life without him, and now here I was, suffering in the first hour of losing him.

  How was I supposed to get through a night? A day? A week?

  How long would this last?

  How much was he hurting?

  God, I hoped he wasn’t hurting as much as I was. I couldn’t bear that.

  What is he doing right now?

  In the darkness behind my closed eyelids, I pictured Walker driving home alone and regretted it instantly. He didn’t try to be strong for me since I wasn’t there. He let the pain in and broke just like I had.

  “Fuck!” I plunged my fingers into my wet hair and cried until my throat hurt.

  The water had turned cool by the time someone knocked on the bathroom door.

  I lifted my head from my knees. “What?” I croaked.

  The door opened. “It’s me,” Grace said. She didn’t come in the bathroom, but she spoke into the steam, her voice soft and soothing. “Nora? You should get out of there before you turn into a prune. Come downstairs. We don’t have to talk about it. We can just put a movie on or something. There’s leftover chickpea salad. You should eat something.”

  I’d cried myself numb. Food had no appeal. Nothing did. “Five more minutes.”

  “No,” Grace said. “There’s no way the water is still warm. You’re going to freeze in there. It’s time to get out.”

  I tried to fight off another round of tears. How was it possible to hurt this much? “Please, Grace.”

  “No,” she said again, more firmly this time. “You don’t have to come downstairs if you don’t want to but I need you to get out of the shower, okay?”

  It took every ounce of strength I had to reach up and turn off the water. The bathroom got quieter and a steady drip from the showerhead drummed a steady numbing beat by my feet.

  “Thank you,” Grace said. “I’m going to wait in the hall until you come out.”

  “Grace, I don’t need—”

  “I said I’m going to wait in the hall until you come out.” With that, she closed the bathroom door.

  I grumbled under my breath about how overbearing my cousin and best friend was. I knew she was doing it for my own good and I needed someone there looking out for me clearly. Otherwise, I’d have let myself turn into a popsicle in the shower.

  By the time I dried off, I was shivering. Grace had been right. Nevertheless, I didn’t mind because at least I could feel something other than my broken heart. My teeth clattered as I wrapped my robe around myself and stepped out into the hall.

  Grace was leaning up against the wall with her arms crossed. She pushed off the wall when I came out and faced me. Her expression tightened, her brows drawing together, and she pulled me in for a warm hug. “I’m sorry, Nora.”

  I sniffled into her shoulder. “Me too.”

  Chapter 34

  Walker

  My phone ringing on my nightstand woke me from a dream where Nora and I were still together.

  Reality came crashing down around me as I rolled over in bed and searched for my phone on my nightstand. I lifted it to my ear. “What?”

  Briar’s voice filled the line. “Walker? Where are you? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re supposed to be here,” she said, her voice low like she didn’t want someone nearby to hear her. “Morianna and her husband have been waiting for almost forty-five minutes. I’ve been trying to call you.”

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  “Damn it.” My head spun when I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I’d indulged in a few too many glasses of bourbon after getting home from dropping Nora off last night and they’d done quick work on my system since I’d skipped dinner. “Tell them I’m on my way but I understand if they don’t want to wait.”

  “This isn’t a good look,” Briar said.

  “You don’t think I know that?” I snapped.

  “I’ll try to stall them.”

  She hung up on me.

  I cursed my spinning head, rolling gut, aching heart, and irritability. It wasn’t Briar’s fault everything had fallen apart last night and I was a miserable bastard this morning. She didn’t deserve any backlash. Not only would I have to make it up to the Ronfields somehow, but I’d have to make it up to Briar as well.

  Perhaps I’d be bringing her lattes for the next week or two.

  I didn’t have time to shower, so I brushed my teeth, put on some deodorant, threw on a pair of jeans and a crew neck, stepped into some sneakers, and rushed out the door with bed head, more than a five o’clock shadow, and a desire to throw up what liquor might still be in my stomach.

  The drive to the gallery was unpleasant. On three occasions, I thought I’d have to pull over and be sick. Somehow, I stayed in control, got to the gallery, and hurried inside to find Briar alone behind the reception desk.

  “Are they in the studio?” I asked.

  Briar looked me up and down, winced, and shook her head. “No, you missed them.”

  I wished there was something in this place I could beat the shit out of. “Son of a bitch.”

  Briar rolled her eyes and looked back down at whatever she was working on. “What happened to you? You look like hell.”

  “Did they seem angry?”

  “Morianna was annoyed that she got all prepared for another session and you didn’t show. A woman puts in a lot of work to feel confident for something like this. A man could never understand.”

  “And her husband?”

  “I think he’ll forgive you,” Briar said, “but he expects an explanation and an apology. And perhaps a discount.”

  “He’ll get one.”

  Briar put down her pen and rested a hand on her hip. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  I stared blankly at her.

  Briar sighed and walked around the desk. She was dressed nicely this morning in a white business dress with gold earrings and bracelets. Her shoes were royal blue. “Why are you late?”

  “I overslept.”

  “And why do you look like you just rolled out of a nightclub?”

  “I… had a few drinks too many last night.”

  “That’s not your style.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes skeptically. “Are you going to spit it out or do I have to keep asking questions?”

  This was getting me nowhere. I didn’t want to say the words aloud because I was afraid of what they’d do to me, but Briar deserved to know what was going on. I sighed, rubbed the back of my neck, and spilled. “Nora ended things last night.”

  Briar blinked. Her expression softened, as did her posture. She let her arms fall to her sides. “Are you serious, Walker?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “What happened? I thought everything was going so well.”

  “So did I.”

  Briar struggled to find the right words, and when she failed, she offered me a simple, “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. I think there’s a lot of that going around right now. That’s all Nora could say, too.”

  Sympathy was written all over her face, in the thin line of her pursed lips, her furrowed brow, and the way she was looking at me. “You stay here. I’m going to get us coffees. You need a pick-me-up.”

  “Let me. I snapped at
you on the phone and—”

  “Walker, just sit down and drink some water or something.” She picked up her purse from where she kept it in a cubby under the desk. She snapped the clasp open and rummaged around for her wallet, which she pulled out before tucking her purse away. “I’ll be five minutes. Maybe call Mr. Ronfield while I’m gone and get it over with? The less time he waits, the better. For you, too.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  She flashed me a smile. “Be honest with him. He’ll understand. He’s a romantic, that man.”

  I recalled the way he and his wife had looked at each other during our last painting session and how sweetly they’d spoken to each other when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. Briar was right, he was a romantic, and maybe there would be some room for forgiveness if I was open with him.

  Then again, it felt a little unprofessional.

  Nevertheless, after Briar stepped out of the gallery to grab coffees, I called my highest paying client and caught him on the third ring. “Mr. Ronfield,” I said. “It’s Walker Vice. I’m calling to apologize for missing our appointment this morning. That was unprofessional of me and I regret wasting your time as well as your wife’s. I understand if this jeopardizes our partnership.”

  He had me on speakerphone in his car. I could hear the telltale sounds of surrounding traffic and his wife’s murmur as she said something under her breath.

  Mr. Ronfield finally spoke. “It wasn’t how Morianna and I intended to start our day, Walker.”

  I didn’t say anything. What else was there?

  “But we do hope to make another appointment with you and continue our work together. Morianna is pleased with how the first piece is turning out and neither of us want to stop now that we’ve gotten started. However, if this happens again, we will be forced to re-evaluate.”

  “I understand and I appreciate your flexibility.”

  Morianna’s voice filled the line. “We hope everything is okay, Walker. Your assistant seemed concerned this morning and said it was quite out of character for you to not show up.”

  Briar had quickly become the backbone of my operation and I was eternally grateful I’d hired her—and to her for making my life easier. She cared about my work, my success, and, well, me. Her advice had been to be honest with my clients, so I did as she said.

  “I’ve never missed an appointment,” I said. “I had some personal—” I broke off. That wasn’t being honest. That was a politician’s answer. Vague. Thin. Masked. I sighed. “The girl of my dreams broke up with me last night and I went on a bit of a bender. It never should have conflicted with my work, though.”

  There was quiet on the other end.

  “She’s a fool,” Morianna said.

  Mr. Ronfield scolded her. “Morianna, that’s not our concern.”

  “She’s a fool,” his wife said again, “to walk away from a man like you. You are forgiven, Walker. There is always room to step back when it comes to matters of the heart. Take some time. We’ll reconnect in a week or two and discuss more sessions.”

  Her graciousness did not go unappreciated. “Thank you.”

  I ended the call feeling a little less like a piece of garbage who’d wasted the precious time of my most valuable clients and more like a hollow skin suit. Telling people that Nora and me were over left less room to delude myself into thinking she might change her mind and come back to me.

  Briar returned with coffees and breakfast sandwiches. The thought of eating made me nauseated and clammy, so I started with the coffee and a bottle of water from the bar fridge under the desk while Briar set to work on her sandwich.

  Between bites, she dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Did you call them?”

  “We worked it out,” I confirmed. “They’re good people.”

  Briar nodded. “Can I ask what happened between you and Nora?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing happened. She was offered a writing job that will allow her to travel the world, and she didn’t want me to sit around waiting for her. Traveling has always been her dream and she told me she made a promise to herself a long time ago that she would never choose a man over her dreams.”

  “It takes a strong woman to stick to those convictions, especially when she has a man like you falling at her feet.”

  I didn’t have it in me to crack a joke and tell her I wasn’t falling at her feet. Instead, I just nodded solemnly. “I don’t understand how this can hurt so bad when I only knew her for two and a half weeks.”

  “You don’t?” Briar asked with a knowing smile.

  I blinked at her over the lid of my coffee cup. “No, I don’t.”

  She chuckled and shook her head at me the way a mother might at a toddler misbehaving in the cutest way. “Because you’re madly in love with her, Walker.”

  I groaned and hung my head. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.” Briar nodded. “Fuck.”

  “It doesn’t change anything.”

  Briar’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Are you sure?”

  Chapter 35

  Nora

  I hovered my mouse over the “Book Now” button at the bottom of the booking engine page. I’d spent the last three hours online looking at flights and hotels. This was an entirely different approach to travel than what I was used to, mostly the hotel part, and I thought I would have butterflies in my stomach before I bit the bullet and committed to my first destination, Bali.

  But there were no butterflies. Instead, my stomach felt like it was full of cold, wet, slimy slugs.

  This was the fourth time I’d reached this stage in the booking process and gotten cold feet since I sat down on the sofa. Why couldn’t I just buy the damn tickets? I didn’t have anything to lose. My first check from Words from Abroad would more than cover my airfare and the promise of more money two weeks from now would keep me fed and housed while I enjoyed everything Bali had to offer for the two weeks I was there.

  Then I’d move onto the next destination.

  But I had to book the first flight in order to get there. Why does this feel so scary?

  There was way less at stake this go around compared to when I booked my trip to London. I wasn’t running away from disapproving parents or abandoning several years worth of study in a subject I wasn’t passionate about. I wasn’t going in blind. I knew what to expect. I knew how to be alone.

  So why did my chest feel like it was caving in and I could hardly breathe?

  I slapped my laptop closed and slumped low on the sofa with a disgruntled huff. “This is bullshit.”

  Now was the time I was supposed to be happy. Elated even.

  This is what I want, isn’t it?

  Julie, who’d been puttering around the house all day because she didn’t have any appointments, looked up from the drawer she was organizing in the kitchen. “Anything I can help with?”

  “No,” I said morosely.

  “Did you book your flight?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I shot her a dark look. “Because I didn’t book it, okay?”

  She smiled. She’d gotten used to my poor attitude and seemed not to hold it against me even though I held everything against her. In my eyes, she was still too perfect, too refined, too wise to be a real person. She was the sort of woman who hardly ever made mistakes, and when she did, they somehow worked out in her favor.

  We all know someone like that and there is nothing more irritating than a beautiful woman with the world at her fingertips and horseshoes up her ass smiling at you when your life feels like it’s falling apart.

  Her good intentions didn’t matter to me at the moment.

  Julie came over and joined me on the sofa. She kicked her heels up onto the coffee table. “Are you second-guessing Bali as your first stop?”

  “I don’t know.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes closed.

  “Are you experiencing doubts?”

  I cracked open one eye and peered at her. “Don’t try and th
erapize me right now.”

  Julie giggled softly. “I would never. I’m merely asking questions.”

  “Fine, I may have some doubts. But I don’t know what they are and I don’t know why I have them. Three days ago, I knew what I wanted. Now that I have it? Well, it doesn’t feel like a victory anymore. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Maybe you didn’t want it as badly as you thought you did.”

  I considered that but I knew it wasn’t correct. This was a dream come true. “That’s not it.”

  Julie pursed her lips. “Maybe you want something else more. Or should I say someone else?”

  I sighed. There it was. The glaring, neon, flashing red warning sign. Stop.

  “Walker,” I breathed.

  Julie nodded. “Walker.”

  “I did what I had to do.”

  “You did what you believed you had to do.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  Julie tucked her legs up under herself and turned sideways to face me. She rested one elbow on the back of the sofa so she could press her temple into her palm. “Just because we believe something is the right choice doesn’t make it so. Sometimes we need to misstep to realize we’ve made a miscalculation.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Is miscalculation the fancy word you use with your clients instead of ‘mistake’?”

  “Sometimes.”

  I surprised myself by chuckling. “I thought you weren’t therapizing me?”

  “I lied.”

  I chewed my inner lip. “So… what is someone to do when they think they might have made a miscalculation?”

  “You have to gain some objectivity.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  Julie gave me a shit-eating grin. “We talk about it.”

  “Fuck me,” I growled.

  She snickered and patted my knee. “Just indulge me, okay? We can stop at any time.”

  “Fine.” I leaned forward and put my laptop on the coffee table before mimicking how she was sitting in the opposite corner of the sofa so we were facing each other. “Let’s get this over with.”