My Way Back to You: New York Times Bestselling Author

by Contreras, Claire

  Maybe it was self-preservation.

  Regardless, I pulled the door open and went up to the fifth floor. Each step I took was filled with a nervous tension. Even small talk with Sam, who met me in the lobby, didn’t seem to help. He seemed to notice, because as we were nearing Rowan’s office, he stopped walking, put his hand on my shoulder, and made me look at him.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said. “You okay?”

  “I’m sorry too and I’m fine. Promise.” I offered him a little smile.

  “You wear your emotions on your sleeve.”

  “I know.” I also knew Rowan could read me like the back of his hand and would read whatever was showing on my face. I took a breath and tried for serious. “How ’bout now?”

  “’Cause I’m up right now,” Sam sang-slash-rapped.

  “And you suck right now,” I finished.

  We were still laughing when Rowan’s door opened. He stood there, his blue eyes bouncing between us, and shook his head. That was different from how it had been before. He used to look at us with a hint of contempt. I wasn’t sure if everything Sam had been through was the cause of this newfound good mood when it came to our friendship or maybe he’d found enough happiness in his personal life—with Camryn—to care.

  I looked at Sam again. “Thanks.”

  “Always.” He winked before tossing out a, “Let me know if you need anything,” and walking away.

  I faced Rowan. I had no choice but to. He held the door open for me, his mouth twitching as I brushed past him. “Converse. There’s the girl I know.”

  “Casual Friday.” I eyed him in his navy suit. “You should try it sometime.”

  He smiled that warm smile that made me feel things I shouldn’t. It reminded me of his son, who was in daycare waiting for Celia to pick him up with a snack and a drink in her hands. My mom and grandmother would be here this evening, and that meant a late night for all of us while they drank their wine and adjusted to the time difference. I went over to the table he had set up off to the side, similar to my own office layout. I said as much.

  “Is it nice?” he asked. “Your office.”

  “Very.”

  I glanced outside at the view his office had. It was on a much lower floor than mine, so I couldn’t see much of the city, but it felt cozy. It felt like home. I blinked away from the view before I could delve into that thought. It only felt cozy because it was Brooklyn. I sat in one of the chairs and tapped the armrest.

  “Fancy,” I said, wondering how much he’d spent on it. Probably as much as I was paying for Mile’s daycare.

  You wanted that, I reminded myself. You wanted to do it on your own. You didn’t want his mother or Camryn meddling or having any part in your son’s life. You made that choice.

  “It would probably look better in your office.”

  “You’ve never seen it.”

  “Not yet, but I know enough about Ryan to know he wouldn’t leave Harold unless he was going to be making bank and working somewhere even fancier,” he said. “Maybe we can meet there next time.”

  “Or you can go meet your buddy Ryan.” Whom I still hadn’t even met. I added that part under my breath. Rowan chuckled.

  “He’s a strange one.”

  “Is he?” I gave him my full attention, figuring he was about to give me the scoop on my new co-worker.

  “He has a lot of connections.” He paused. “Let’s just say he doesn’t have to work; he chooses to.”

  “Trust fund baby? He seems like he would be.”

  “Exactly.” He grinned. I looked away. I didn’t need that grin in my life. The replica I had at home was much sweeter.

  I waved my hand over the board. “Show me the magic.”

  He seemed to stall for a second too long. I looked over at him and caught him staring. My pulse spiked.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He blinked, clearing his throat.

  I forced my eyes back to the board. I seriously needed not to do this. It wasn’t that I hadn’t connected with other people after him. There was Cody, of course, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. There had been French Dude, which was what Celia and I called him. He’d been smart and good-looking and attentive as hell, but I had Miles, and he trumped everyone. French Dude tried to be all cool and nonchalant, but deep down, he was needy. Or maybe he was just needy about sex and cuddling—two things I couldn’t give him as often as all the other single girls in the city of lights could.

  The digital board powered up and showed me all sorts of fabric colors. Fiery reds and vibrant blues. Rowan taught me how to scroll and search. I touched an ivory and a blue I kept going back to. He jotted down the numbers and clicked on a different little device to see if they had them in this location.

  “How many locations are you up to now?”

  “Three, but this is the main one. We still have the one back home, but it’s been turned into a factory. London is still there because of Mom, but we had to let go of a lot of employees and downsized. I’m working on Colombia and Guatemala. I hit a roadblock there.”

  “You? I didn’t think you knew what a roadblock was.” My god, he was definitely sitting too close to me. I adjusted my seat, rolled it an inch away.

  “It’s boring stuff.” He waved a hand. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.”

  “I do want to hear about it, actually, but I can’t right now.”

  “Got somewhere to be?”

  I took out my phone and looked at the screen. No missed calls. No texts. Miles would be out of daycare in a few minutes, though, and I wanted to get home before Mom and Grandma Joan did to make sure everything was picked up so neither one of them bitched about the mess. As if living with a toddler was anything but messy. I pushed the side button and looked up at him.

  “My mom and Joan are coming in today,” I said. “I need to pick up the apartment before they get there and start judging.”

  “I’m sure they’ll forgive you.”

  I cracked my neck as he stood and pulled out three massive leather books from a shelf. I’d know those books anywhere. They were filled with fabric swatches, which made my heart pitter-patter a little. At Prim, I’d been stuck in the design room for over a year, and sadly, Yamina was the one who was sorting through the fabric for all of the designs. The magnitude of these projects finally hit me as Rowan set those massive books down in front of me. These were my projects. Mine to oversee and take responsibility for.

  “You look like you’re about to cry.” His voice sounded funny. I looked up and found him watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is it me?”

  “No. Sorry.” I blinked rapidly. “It’s the fabric.”

  “Oh.”

  All his disappointment was wrapped up in that one little word. The one he said all clipped and final when he didn’t get the answer he was expecting.

  “You can take them home,” he said, clearing his throat.

  “The books?”

  “Yeah.” He came around and sat beside me again. He looked so weird with that beard. It wasn’t as if it was a super big lumberjack beard, but still. A beard was a beard and seeing one on Rowan was . . . weird. And hot . . . “Take all of them if you want. It’s Friday. I’m the only one who gets the urge to look through these on the weekend anyway.”

  Hm. “I bet your wife loves that.”

  I cringed inwardly. I hadn’t exactly meant to say that aloud or for the statement to come out so snappy. It made it sound like I potentially cared about that whole thing when, in reality, I didn’t. But if I was even going to consider telling Rowan about Miles, I needed to know I’d be doing the right thing and that Camryn wouldn’t be an issue.

  “I’m getting a divorce.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. My eyes snapped to his before dropping to his left hand, which was ring-less. “And I’m in the process of buying the company from my grandparents.”

  “Oh. Good. That’s . . . great news. I know how much you wanted t
his.” I gave him a polite smile.

  A few years ago, I would have killed to hear those words. Right then? I didn’t care about him or his company or his wife or his lack of a wedding ring. The only thing I cared about was Miles and how this would affect him if—huge if—I let Rowan into his life.

  “Anyway,” I said, needing to say something because he was giving me the look he gave when he couldn’t believe my reaction to something. “I wouldn’t be able to carry all of these.”

  “I can help.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m calling it a day anyway.”

  “No, I’ll just take—”

  “Just let me help. Are you going back to the office or home?”

  “Home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “Not far from here.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You live in Brooklyn? When did that happen?”

  “When I moved back.” I still hadn’t given him specifics about that and I couldn’t imagine why he kept fishing.

  “In that case, I’ll definitely help you.”

  I eyed the books. The darn things probably weighed more than Miles. My little man was scrawny and always shimmying here and there so it was impossible for him to put weight on. He was a big boy and wanted to do big boy things. I smiled.

  “I’d kill to know what put that smile on your face,” Rowan said, his voice low.

  “Just business.” I made sure to keep my voice businesslike.

  Maybe I was warning myself because with the way my heart doubled in speed, I was obviously the one who needed the reminder. A month ago, I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that I was over him but having him in front of me and feeling like this had me second-guessing that.

  “Thank you.” I tried to grab one of the books, but he didn’t let me, insisting he carry all three.

  I didn’t argue.

  We only had three blocks to walk, which was a bit disconcerting, but he didn’t comment. In fact, we walked mostly in silence. When we stopped to wait for the walk light to blink, he nodded in the direction of the street we were on.

  “My place is right up there.”

  “Oh.” I followed his gaze, heart thumping. He literally lived one block away from me. The light turned and we made our way across the street. Every step I took felt like the decision was being made for me. I should tell him about Miles. He didn’t deserve that gift, but my little boy did, and despite any thought and grudge I may hold against Rowan, I knew he was a good man. A loving man. I blinked rapidly.

  “This is me,” I said, coming to a stop in front of my building.

  “You’re joking.”

  “Not joking.” I let out a nervous laugh, holding my arms out to take the books.

  “You aren’t inviting me up?” He seemed surprised by this.

  “Definitely not.”

  “I suppose your boyfriend wouldn’t approve.” I was about to ask him what boyfriend he was talking about, but he shifted, placing the books carefully into my arms. I grunted a little. He had carried them so effortlessly that I had almost expected them not to be as heavy as I thought they were. “I wouldn’t approve either.”

  “Why? You’re just helping me carry some books.”

  “Only a fool would think that.”

  “Hold the door.” My brother’s voice snapped my attention behind Rowan. Freddie looked from me to Rowan and then back to me with that unreadable expression of his.

  “Ro,” he said.

  “Long time no see.” Rowan smiled as he gave my brother one of those pat, sideways hugs. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Freddie slapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “How’s New York treating you?

  “Fine, though I gotta say that not having the water right behind me every day is killing me.”

  “I bet. I’m surprised you can survive without it.”

  “It’s all I’ve been doing these past years.” Rowan dragged his gaze back to me. “Merely surviving.”

  I rolled my eyes and handed the books over to Freddie. “Carry these for me, please. I have to head up.” I smiled sweetly and blew him a kiss before turning to Rowan. “See you . . . I guess I’ll have to get the books back to you Monday, so I’ll have Sam pick them up.”

  “I can pick them up.”

  “Sure.” I turned and opened the door. “Have a good weekend.”

  I walked to the elevator and looked outside to where my brother and Rowan were still talking. I was so grateful to be out of Rowan’s presence. I was sure they’d talk about working out, Hawthorne Industries, or The Company, which Freddie refused to talk about to Celia and I, but I would bet money he’d talk about it with Rowan. I had my key in my hand, ready to unlock my door, when Celia opened it. I paused.

  “Where’s Miles?”

  “Napping.”

  “Oh.” I frowned, dropping my messenger bag by the door and then kicking my heels off. “Where were you going?”

  “Nowhere. I heard the elevator ding and knew it was you.” She went around to the kitchen and got a glass of water. “Want coffee?”

  “No.” I took a seat on the stool. “I’ll take a bottle of water.”

  “Freddie called saying he was on his way too. I ordered Chinese.”

  “That sounds so good right now.” My stomach growled as she handed me the water. “He’s downstairs.”

  “Why didn’t he come up with you?”

  I opened the water bottle and started chugging it. When I put it down, she was still watching me curiously. “He’s talking to Rowan.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “What’s he doing here?”

  “We had a meeting today and he offered to let me borrow some fabric books. He carried them over for me.”

  “He isn’t coming up, is he?”

  “No.” I heaved a tired sigh. “It’s bad enough that I can’t think straight when he’s around, there is no way I’m inviting that man into my home.”

  When I finished, her mouth was hanging open. The list of things that made my sister lose her words had just expanded to include my admitting I wasn’t quite immune to my ex-boyfriend and father of my baby coming back into my life. She blinked and then looked in the direction of Miles’s bedroom.

  “What does this mean for him?”

  “Nothing,” I said. She raised her eyebrows and I added, “Nothing yet.”

  “Is he still with the bitch?”

  “He mentioned a divorce, but that means she’s still in the picture in some capacity.”

  “Well, Sam is going to tell him if you don’t,” Celia offered.

  “I know,” I said. “I just . . . I’m scared. I’m scared about having Camryn or Mildred around him when I’m not present.”

  My heart hurt just thinking about it. What if Camryn gave him Benadryl to make him shut up and go to sleep? A cold shudder ran through me.

  “No. I can’t just tell him. I need to be sure of so many things before that is even a possibility,” I said, and Celia nodded sadly, reaching over and placing her warm hand on mine.

  “I get it,” she whispered. “I really do, but he deserves to know his son, and Miles deserves to know his father.”

  The ache in my chest worsened. I knew she was right, but I wasn’t ready yet. Not yet.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tessa

  I held my drink a little tighter as I looked at Celia from across the bar slash lounge slash restaurant that Sam’s friend owned. She ran into some editor from her publishing house and had been talking to him since we got here. Before walking off to continue her conversation, she handed me a bourbon concoction and told me to approach a man I was attracted to and flirt with him.

  “That’s step one,” she’d said. “I’m sure you know where the rest leads.”

  Find a man I was attracted to and flirt with him. If it wasn’t for Celia pushing me to do this, I would’ve gladly stayed home. Still. It seemed simple enough. I scanned the bar, feeling flutters in my stomach. There were a ton of good-looking guys, but I couldn’t ju
st go up to one. Could I? One guy across the bar met my gaze and I stiffened, bringing the tiny straw up to my lips and glancing away quickly but not quickly enough. He was making his way over and I took a step back, looking up with a smile when he neared. Oh my god. Why did I ever look around? It was Cody, and he looked non-too-happy to see me here.

  “You look like you’re trying to disappear into the topiary,” he said.

  I smiled. “I was going to call you. I swear.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I started working and between that and Miles, things haven’t exactly been . . . smooth.”

  “Yet, here you are, having a drink at a bar like a grown-up.”

  “Would you believe me I told you Celia made me do it?”

  He titled his head and shook it slightly before letting out a bark of laughter. “Actually, I would. I’m glad you’re here.”

  I kind of pushed myself into his hug, holding my drink away from us. When I pulled back, he eyed it.

  “What are you drinking?”

  “I’m not really sure. It has a lot of bourbon and a little bit of something else I can’t quite place because, well, the bourbon.”

  He chuckled, clinking his glass against mine just as Sam and Chloe sidled up next to us. “Hi, Cody!” Chloe gave him a side hug as Sam shot me a questioning look. I just shrugged, not knowing how to explain Cody being at the grand opening.

  The longer I stood there, the more fucked up I felt, and not just with my drink. It was messed up that I didn’t call Cody when I got Stateside when he’d called me every time he landed in a city he knew I’d be in for a convention.

  “You want to join us for dinner?” Chloe asked.

  Cody looked at me, as if waiting for an answer.

  I smiled. “Why not?”

  “Sure.”