“Who else knew?”
“Nobody. Just me.”
“Not even Jess?”
“Not even Jess.”
I sit down on the arm of the couch and drop my head into my hands, raking my fingers back through my hair, and I try to breathe but it’s like my breath’s caught somewhere in the back of my throat and it takes a good few seconds before it dislodges itself.
“What’s she going to do now? I mean, is she – is she moving to another firm?”
“I don’t know.”
“One here, in New York?”
“I don’t know, Evan, she didn’t say.”
I stand up and walk back over to him. “Did you ask?”
“She didn’t say. I just know she’s taking some time out, that’s all.”
I walk over to the window and I stare outside, down at the street below. I look at the hot-dog cart down on the sidewalk, the one we used to go to when we felt like a quick lunch; the coffee shop across the street where she used to fetch me full-fat hazelnut lattes when she was in a really good mood. I lean forward and rest my forehead against the cool glass and I close my eyes, and I try to take this all in.
“Come on, Evan. It’s getting late. Let’s go home, grab some take-out on the way, a few beers. A bottle of bourbon, maybe?”
I turn around and lean back against the window. “She’s really gone, huh?”
“She’s really gone.”
“Swear down you don’t know where she is?”
“If I did would you go find her?”
I drop my gaze and slide my hands into my pockets, I feel almost defeated. “I don’t know.”
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I throw my head back and sigh heavily, and I know I’m not going to sleep tonight so that bottle of bourbon, that’s a good idea.
“Evan?”
I look at my brother. But I don’t say anything.
“It’s time to move on.”
“Yeah. You’re right. It is.”
Lola
“Oh, you are such a liar, Mike! No way was that my idea!”
“It was,” he laughs as he yanks the top off another bottle of beer and hands it to me. “You said you wanted to do something you’d never done before, and doing a runner from a restaurant without paying the bill…”
“Yeah, but, we never did go through with it, did we?”
He takes a swig of beer and looks at me out the corner of his eye, his mouth twisting up into a slight smirk. “Only because you bottled it, Burrows.” And then he realizes what he’s just said; that he’s used my maiden name, and he drops his head, and I don’t want this to ruin tonight. It’s been good, just kicking back and chilling out with no pressure or hidden agendas or talk of broken marriages and failed past history. We’ve chatted and laughed about things that don’t matter – TV shows, sport, music. And it’s been good. I won’t let this ruin tonight.
“Mike…”
“What are you gonna do now, Lola?” He looks up, and he smiles a small smile and I return it.
“I’m going home.”
He frowns slightly. “Home?”
“I’m going back to England.”
He says nothing for a few beats, he just looks at me. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I was going to go next week, but…” It’s my turn to drop my gaze, take another mouthful of beer and breathe in deep, closing my eyes for a second or two. “I moved my flight forward. While you were cooking dinner I called the airline and… and I’m leaving, tomorrow.”
“Things are that bad, huh?”
He throws me a wry smile this time, and I laugh quietly. “I just think I need to put some distance between me and what’s happened here. The mess I made of everything.”
“You didn’t make that mess all on your own, Lola. You had a bit of help.”
I know he’s trying to lighten the mood a little, and I’m grateful for that. Grateful that he isn’t asking too many questions, isn’t pushing me to think about this more; isn’t throwing any complications in my way.
“You going back to Manchester?”
I finish my beer, placing the bottle on the table in front of me as I tuck my legs up underneath myself, staring at the fire roaring away in the hearth as the rain continues to batter down outside. “Yes. I’m going back to Manchester.”
“You gonna be okay? Going back there?”
I look at him, and I smile. Mike is one of the few people who knows why I really came to New York. So he knows how big a deal it is for me, to go back to Manchester. “I’ll be fine, Mike. Going back there now… I’ll be fine.”
“Does Evan know? About Frankie?”
I drop my gaze and I shake my head. “No. He doesn’t. There never seemed to be a right time to tell him, and… There’s no need for him to know now, is there?”
“You told me.”
“That was different, you were different. What we had, that was different. Anyway, I’ve still got a few connections over there, so… In fact, it was one of my old lecturers who put the word out for me when he heard I was coming back and, well, I’ve got some meetings lined up toward the end of the week.” I shrug, and I look over at Mike and he seems a little shell-shocked. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“Wow. I mean, you’ve certainly been busy, huh?”
“I don’t have the luxury of falling apart, Mike. Not that I was ever going to do that. Why would I? All of this was instigated by me, so… I caused this. And I’m fixing it.”
“You know you could still come back with me. To Toronto. Our firm would kill to have someone like you working there…”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
He lets a couple of beats go by before he says anything, and he keeps his eyes fixed on me, his gaze doesn’t waver. “I think it’s a great idea.” And then he smiles, and we both laugh, and that mood lightens once again. “Nah. You’re right. It’s a terrible idea.”
I pull the sleeves of my sweater down over my wrists, and I look down at my left hand. I’m still wearing my wedding and engagement rings and I don’t know why I haven’t taken them off yet. And I need to do that, really, because when I step on that plane tomorrow I’m drawing a solid line right through mine and Evan’s relationship.
“You will need to talk to him, Lola.”
My head shoots up and I look at Mike. “Will I?”
“The marriage is over, right?”
I nod, and I look down at hand again, twisting my wedding band around my finger with my thumb.
“So, are we talking divorce now? Are we at that stage yet?”
“We haven’t mentioned it, to each other, not yet, but, yeah. I guess we’re going to have to broach that subject, at some point.”
“Some point?”
I look up at Mike. “I want to get settled back in the UK first, Mike. I want to deal with everything there, first. But I will, talk to him. In time.”
“When it doesn’t hurt so much, huh?” He drains his beer and gets up, and he sits down next to me on the couch.
“I’m sorry, Mike.”
“For what?”
“For dragging you into this.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Lola. I just want you to be happy.”
“Yeah.” I smile, and he takes my hand and he squeezes it tight and I can’t help thinking how much better this feels, us, as friends. We work better this way. I like us, this way. “I kind of want that, too.”
He lets go of my hand and stands up, gathering up the empty bottles scattered on the coffee table. “Come on. It’s late, we should get some sleep. You take the guest room out back and I’ll take the front one. What time’s your flight tomorrow?”
“It’s a late one. Ten thirty in the evening.”
“You’ve got time for breakfast, then?”
He throws me another smile and I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I guess. But, only if you promise to whip up some pancakes.”
“Okay. Pancakes it is, then. And as a sp
ecial treat I’ll even throw in some crispy bacon because I know how much you like it.”
“Spoiling me, huh?”
I follow him into the kitchen, folding my arms against myself as I watch him load the dishwasher.
“You’ll need to go back to Manhattan first, I’m guessing,” Mike says, closing the dishwasher door and turning around to face me. “To pack.”
“I’m only taking a few things with me, a couple of cases but, yeah. I need to drop by the apartment, grab my passport, print out my boarding card.”
“Let me drive you to the airport.”
“Just to make sure I’ve gone, huh?”
“I’m being serious, Lola.”
“I know you are. And you don’t need to…”
“No, I know I don’t need to do anything. I want to. So let me take you, okay?”
I smile, and I lean back against the wall as he starts switching off the lights, the power thankfully having not been affected by the now passing storm. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He walks up to me and he stops and he takes my hand again, gently running his fingertips over my wedding and engagement rings. “Go get some sleep.”
I lean in to him, and I lightly kiss his cheek. “Pancakes, remember?”
He smiles a wide smile as I start to walk away. “Yeah. Pancakes.”
Twenty-Five
Evan
I look up from my laptop as the lights outside in the corridor dim slightly, and then I check my watch and realize how late it is. But I’m in no hurry to go home.
“You still here?”
“No, I’m really taking a walk around Central Park and what you’re actually looking at is a hologram.”
“Sarcasm never did suit you.”
Heath leans back against the doorpost, folding his arms as he looks at me.
“You want to grab a drink? Something to eat?”
“I’ve still got stuff to finish up here.”
“You want me to order some take-out?”
“Do what you like, Heath. I’m busy. And I have no idea when I’ll be done, so…” I trail off, he’s got the message.
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’ll see you later.”
I turn my attention back to my laptop, and I wait until I’m sure he’s gone before I look back up. And I sit back in my chair and I swing it around so it faces the window and I take a few minutes to just look outside. It’s dark, and all I can see are the lights of neighboring buildings and I find my mind wandering as I wonder what’s going on behind those windows, who’s still there, working late like me; what they’re doing. Who they’re with.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell, and I look down at her number. And I can still barely believe that it’s only been a few months since I married her, and yet, here we are. Apart. I don’t even know where she’s living now, and as much as I’ve wanted to ask around, to see if she’s found a job someplace else in the city, I know that would be a mistake. It’s too soon, too early. I still love her, still think about her all the fucking time and I need some distractions to really kick in before I can face her and talk to her and truly get over this shit we’ve created. This mess that was, ultimately, unavoidable.
“Still working, huh?”
I swing around to face the door and she’s standing there, all long red hair and big wide eyes. “Something I can do for you, Hayden?”
“I was just on my way out and I noticed your light was still on.”
“I’m working late.”
“I can see that.”
She takes a step forward and closes the door behind her, moving further inside.
“Is there something I can do for you, Hayden?” I repeat, keeping my eyes on hers as she walks toward my desk.
“You could stop what you’re doing for a minute.”
“And why would I do that?”
She sits down on the couch by the bookshelf and crosses her legs, and I know what she’s doing, she’s not even hiding it anymore. And I also know that I should be chasing her out of here, telling her to go, I shouldn’t even be considering this. But I’m tired and I need a distraction, and now I have one, sitting right there in front of me.
“You work too hard.”
“There’s no such thing as working too hard,” I say, closing my laptop and coming out from behind my desk, digging my hands into my pockets as I walk toward her. “It’s what I do. I work hard.”
She stands up and reaches out to run her fingers down over my tie. “Do you play hard, too?” She smiles, and it’s a smile loaded with hidden meaning and I can’t help but grin back. Just being here, seeing her, feeling her touch me, the stress of the past few weeks, it’s just melting away. Jesus, I need this. I don’t necessarily need her, but I need this.
My arm circles her waist and I pull her gently against me, my mouth hovering over hers, but as she leans in to me that rush of sanity hits me once more, and it’s like I’m being dragged out of some kind of trance as I let her go and step back.
“I’m sorry, Hayden, we… we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not? You’re a free man now, aren’t you? What’s stopping you?”
“Come on, sweetheart, think about it.”
She takes another step forward, and she’s right up in my face again, her perfume’s filling my head, her hand soft against my cheek as her mouth brushes ever so gently against mine, just briefly, but long enough for me to know that her lips are soft and taste of raspberry.
“I’m just being a good associate, Evan.”
My arm’s back around her waist before I can stop it, it’s like I’m not in control of this shit. And that just sends out a signal to her that I’m okay with this, when I’m not sure I am. But when she presses herself against me, and I feel her tits with her rock hard nipples and my cock reacts, I’m not sure I’ve got much of a choice anymore.
“A good associate would get the hell out of this office and go home,” I murmur, my hand falling onto her ass as she pushes her tits harder against my chest.
“A good associate would do whatever her boss wanted her to do. Do you want me to go home, Mr. King?”
I groan quietly as she drops a hand and cups my hard-on and I close my eyes as she reaches for my zipper.
“Is that what you want, Evan?”
I throw back my head as she continues to touch me, her breath hot and heavy on my neck, I’m getting lost in the moment here. Too lost. And it isn’t until she begins to unzip me that I hear that alarm go off inside my head.
“Hayden, no, come on.” I take her hand and pull it away from me. “You need to go home. Now.”
She looks hurt, for a fleeting second, and then her expression hardens and she steps back from me. “I’m sorry, Evan, I didn’t mean…”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Hayden. It’s just – I don’t think it’s a good idea, to mix business and pleasure.”
“It didn’t stop you with Lola.”
“And look what happened there. Which is why I don’t think it’s a good idea, anymore. And the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
She smiles, a small smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, huh?”
“Yeah. You’ll see me tomorrow.”
I watch her go, and as she walks away, along the corridor toward the elevator, I sit down on the couch, drop my head into my hands, and take a long, deep breath.
I said no. I had that willpower, that resolve, to do the right thing. This time…
Lola
“Can I come over and visit?” Mike sits down opposite me and slides a mug of coffee toward me. It might be late, but the airport’s still busy, and I like that I’m surrounded by people and noise, it’s a distraction. Not that I need one, I’m making the right decision. Going back the UK, it’s the right thing to do.
“And why would you want to do that?”
“Because, despite all the crap we’ve been through, Lola, I still
care about you. And I still want you in my life.”
I take a small sip of coffee and look at him over the rim of my mug. “Yeah. You can come visit. In fact, I’d really like that.”
“Good.” He smiles, and then he reaches into his inside jacket pocket, takes something out, and places a long, white, suede box on the table. “For you.”
I look at it, and then he slides that toward me, too, his eyes on mine, a slight smile still on his face.
“Open it.”
I take the box and flip open the lid and inside is the most beautiful, delicate white-gold necklace. “Mike…”
“I was going to give this to you, on our wedding day.”
I look up at him, and he doesn’t miss my confused expression.
“What would’ve been our second wedding day, or, our second attempt at one, anyway.”
I look back down at the necklace. “Why are you giving it to me now?”
“Because I want you to have it. Simple as that. And, because I want you to know that I’ll always be there for you. Always. If you need me. No matter what.”
I look back up at him, and I give him a sideways smile. “You do know you could be opening yourself up to a whole heap of trouble with that statement.”
He laughs quietly, and then he gets up and moves behind me, reaching into the box and picking up the necklace. “Come on. I’ll put this on for you.”
I take hold of my hair and pull it aside as he slides the chain around my neck, fastening it carefully.
“There you go.”
He sits back down, and I smile at him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
He shrugs and takes another sip of coffee. “It’s yours. I bought it for you and… it looks good on you.”
I drop my head and run my fingers lightly over the necklace. “You think I should’ve told him, don’t you? You think I should’ve told Evan I was going back to England.”
“It’s not my place to tell you what to do, Lola. You have to make those decisions by yourself. You told Jess yet?”
“I spoke to her this afternoon, just before you arrived to drive me here. She’s not happy, but she understands. She just wishes I’d spoken to her sooner. That I’d trusted her.”
Willfully Hers (The Dirty Business Series Book 2) Page 21