“Let’s not play this game, Kate. Let’s be adults about this.”
“Agreed,” she told him firmly. “I’ll pack up and leave the office today. You’ll pay me two weeks’ salary and the quarterly bonus I would’ve received if my numbers hadn’t been”—she raised her fingers in air quotes—”adjusted.”
“Then we both walk away.”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
It was over. She won. She got what she wanted.
She was numb. So shocked she didn’t know what to do.
“Goodbye,” Rich said pointedly and she jerked up from her chair. She gave him a curt nod in farewell and strode out of the room.
Safely outside his door she flopped against the wall, exhaling heavily. She wanted to feel triumphant, victorious. Instead she found herself fighting back tears.
No matter the terms, he fired her. She was unemployed.
Just like her mom and sister.
She held it together as she packed her few possessions. The other sales reps looked on but no one spoke. She was sure the situation was obvious, and that she wasn’t the first woman to come and go from this macho-man pit. As she walked out with her cardboard box under her arm she imagined all of them sprinting down the hall, trying to be the first into Rich’s office to take her place on the Skyline account.
She smiled at that image, chucking the box in her trunk and slamming it shut. Rich thought he could get rid of her and hold onto Skyline. Good fucking luck, buddy.
On that note she pulled out her phone but stopped with her finger hovering over Oz’s number. She was seeing him later that night, anyway. She’d tell him then, when she’d had a chance to process exactly what happened, and send out a few resumes.
* * * *
“There you are.” Oz appeared at the head of the line leading into the nightclub and tugged Kate out of it, yanking her to his chest and giving her a quick, tight hug.
She savored the firm planes of his body for a second, then broke away and turned a disapproving face to the bouncer. “I told you I was on the VIP list.”
Oz’s tone was less forgiving. “What the hell, man? You better have an outstanding reason why I had to come all the way out here to get her.”
The bouncer ran his eyes up Kate’s body, toes to head, blatantly taking in her flat shoes, figure-hugging jeans and plain purple T-shirt. Then he looked past her at the long line of men and women dressed to the nines in designer clothes.
“It’s such a common name, I thought maybe I had the wrong Kate Mitchell,” the bouncer offered mildly.
“Sure.” Oz rolled his eyes and slung his arm around Kate’s shoulders, leading her into the nightclub.
He took a sharp right turn just inside the door to climb a set of stairs, and as they made their way along a crowded balcony toward an area labeled VIP she got a glimpse of the glamorous partiers who’d turned out to hear tonight’s DJ.
“The website said no flip-flops or sneakers, but I didn’t realize it was going to be this fancy.”
“You look great,” he told her firmly. The VIP-area bouncer unclipped the velvet rope for them to enter and as the handful of people inside got to their feet Oz announced, “I found her.”
“Did you get lost? We should’ve told you the entrance is on a side street.” Ted gave her a quick hug in greeting.
“The bouncer was giving her a hard time,” Oz said as she embraced Glynn and Sean in turn.
“He was a douche to me, too,” Sean assured her. “Guess we won’t be back.”
She smiled gratefully at Sean, doubtful his slick outfit would’ve been given a second glance at the door. He was trying to make her feel better, and she liked him all the more for it.
“And this is DJ Balboa, better known to us as Jonas, and his girlfriend, Ella,” Oz introduced them.
Kate smiled at the Swedish DJ, the reason they were here tonight. “Nice to meet you.”
They chatted as a group for a bit, but when Jonas and his entourage kept falling into Swedish Kate decided to leave Oz to his native language for a while. She joined Glynn, Ted and Sean on a couch at the other end of the area, beside the velvet rope.
“What can I make for you, hon?” A server in a teeny miniskirt arrived in front of the couch.
“Bottle service,” Glynn explained. “Vodka and mixers.”
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Just a club soda, please.”
“You’re not drinking?” Ted asked.
“I don’t like vodka.”
“We can get a different bottle. It’s all on the record label’s tab. We’re only having vodka because we’re surrounded by Scandinavians.”
“I’m good. I drove here, so.” She lifted a shoulder.
Ella joined them, starting up a conversation about visiting Atlanta for the first time. Kate contributed when she could, but she didn’t have much to offer about high-end shopping or trendy restaurants. After a few minutes she went quiet, taking in her surroundings and sipping her club soda.
She gathered that Jonas would go on last as the headliner, but another DJ was playing in the main section downstairs and she could see the crowd heaving in front of the stage. Those closest to the DJ seemed like genuine fans of the music, but the further back she looked the more the club appeared to be a meat market. The women hovering near the bar certainly hadn’t worn shoes fit for dancing, and she doubted the men buying them drinks would even notice if the DJ walked away and Waylon Jennings’s greatest hits started pouring through the speakers instead.
The space outside the VIP area was getting busier, too, as more and more people approached the bouncer and tried to talk their way behind the velvet rope. She guessed she should’ve felt special, but mostly she imagined all these would-be VIPs looking her up and down and wondering how she got in when they couldn’t.
Sean stood up from the space beside her and Glynn took his place.
“How are you?” he asked, raising his voice above the increasing volume of the music.
They’d seen each other a couple of times since they’d flown back from Boston, but she had an idea he was referring to more than her general wellbeing.
“Good, thanks.” It wasn’t exactly true. In fact it was a big fat lie. She’d just lost her goddamn job. But there was no point in getting into all of that, no matter how much she liked him.
“You don’t look like you’re having much fun.”
Her face heated. “I am. It’s not really my scene, is all.”
“Not mine, either, if I’m honest. Jonas is good, though, and you can’t argue with free drinks.” He raised his in salute.
“True.” She tapped her glass against his.
Glynn looked over his shoulder at where Jonas laughed at something Oz said, then back at her. “Can I be really honest?”
After the day she’d had, she’d rather he wasn’t. “Of course.”
“The fact that you’re sitting here in jeans, being uncomfortable and not drinking, is why I like you. And why I’m glad you’re with Oz.”
She arched a brow. “Thanks?”
“I’ve been thinking about it since Nedda had her…moment. She would’ve loved this. She would’ve known exactly what to wear, what to say, what to drink. Tomorrow she would’ve taken Ella for lunch and shopping.”
“This is supposed to make me feel better?”
“Sorry, I’m circling my point, which is that it’s easy to get sucked into the pro-athlete lifestyle. I’ve known Oz for almost ten years and sometimes I still come close to falling into the trap.”
She shook her head. “I don’t follow. What trap?”
“The perception of life without consequences. That there will always be more money, more time, another party, someone to pick up the tab. I do think Nedda’s feelings for him were real, but there was also a level on which she wanted to be part of the li
festyle. She wanted the clothes, the vacations, the house, the attention.”
“She’s a doctor,” Kate replied incredulously. “That took a lot of hard work. She wouldn’t have gone through all that if she just wanted to be someone’s arm candy.”
Glynn’s expression said he wasn’t convinced. “If Oz had proposed, she would’ve quit. At best, she might’ve continued med school part time for the sake of appearances, but she wouldn’t have gone through interning and residency, and definitely never would’ve worked as a doctor.”
She flopped back against the couch as she absorbed Glynn’s assertion. Nedda seemed so capable and sophisticated and smart. Maybe Glynn saw her motives even more clearly than Oz had.
“You’re saying you don’t think I care about that stuff,” she supplied.
“Ironically, no.”
“Why is that ironic?” she asked, but when she caught Glynn’s regretful wince she figured it out.
“Because I need his money a lot more than Nedda did,” she answered her own question.
“I’m sorry, Kate, I wasn’t trying to imply—”
“It’s fine,” she dismissed him. “Y’all know what I do for a living. It’s no secret that I’m not exactly rolling in cash. I’ll take it as a compliment that you don’t think I’m a gold digger.”
“That’s what I meant,” he said earnestly. “You’re grounded, you’re honest, and you’re not trying to be anyone you’re not. Oz is pretty disciplined but between his intellect and his money, even he gets carried away sometimes. He needs someone to yank him back to earth, and I think you can do that.”
She swallowed an unexpected lump in her throat. She’d had a shit day and shittier ones were probably still to come as she looked for a new job, but in that moment she felt lucky. She was lucky to have Oz, lucky he had such great friends, and lucky they accepted her so easily. “Thanks, Glynn. I appreciate that.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “Now, try to do something about his stupid white décor. I’m afraid to touch anything in that damn house.”
“Is this man bothering you, Kate?” Oz arrived, gestured for the two of them to slide down, then took a seat on her other side. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, pressing a kiss to her temple. She relaxed into his firm, lean body, so grateful for his presence, for his very existence, that she had to breathe through another hot swell of emotion.
“I’ve heard at least seven women claim to be your girlfriend.” She nodded to the press of people unsubtly peering into the VIP area. The bouncer had moved the velvet rope to push them farther back but that hadn’t stopped them craning their necks.
“Yeah, they look like committed soccer fans. I bet they’ve all got season tickets and watch every away fixture on TV.”
“I’m sure. Anyway, Jonas and Ella seem nice.”
“They are. I met Jonas in Stockholm a few years ago at a charity event. He’s a big star in Sweden but he’s only recently broken through in the US. I’m happy for him. He deserves it.”
“When does he go on?”
“Midnight.”
She quickly checked the time on her phone and suppressed a sigh. Still two hours to go.
Oz squeezed closer and asked in a low voice, “You’re not having fun, are you?”
“I’m just tired. I had a shit day at work.”
“What happened?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to get into it here.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“I’m fine, I promise. Anyway, I drove.”
He gave her a sidelong glance, then reached in his pocket and produced a key on a Swedish-flag keychain.
Glynn whistled, which Oz ignored. “You’re not enjoying yourself. Go back, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“That’s the key to the house,” Glynn told her unnecessarily, his brows raised. “No one gets to be in there alone. This is a big moment for us all.”
“Shut up, Glynn,” Oz said without taking his eyes off her. After a second she accepted the key, slipping it into her own pocket.
“I assume you know how to turn off the alarm,” he continued. “The code is—”
“You should never tell anyone your code or—”
“Or announce it in a public place. I was listening that day, believe it or not. I’ll text it to you, and I’ll give you a hint.”
He leaned in, pressing his lips beside her ear. “There’s no hint,” he murmured, his voice deep and sultry. “I just want you to know I can’t wait to find you in my bed when I get home.”
His words wrapped around her as if she’d slid into a hot bath on a cold evening. Her muscles relaxed, the tension in her spine eased, and the worries that had been hammering her forehead since she left her office went quiet for the first time in hours.
She’d deal with the future tomorrow. Tonight she cared only about the man at her side.
He kissed her goodbye with a long, lingering press of his lips. Normally she would’ve been embarrassed by such a public display, but knowing all those wannabe-VIP women in tall heels and short dresses were watching, she returned the kiss full force. Oz hummed his approval and raised his hand to her cheek, moving his tongue against hers. She relaxed her jaw to give him better access, sliding her palm up his thigh.
“Should I go? Because this is getting awkward.” Glynn’s voice snapped her back to the present.
“No, I’m going.” She stood and said her farewells to everyone she’d met, including the Swedish visitors. Then, with a last glance at Oz, she left the VIP area and made her way to the exit, aware that every head turned to gawk at her as she passed.
The line to get into the club was even longer than when she arrived, and she marveled that anyone would spend that much time and expense on a few hours of partying, and on a Tuesday night to boot.
She rolled down her windows to enjoy the cool nighttime air, a welcome relief from the scorching summer day. She turned on the radio, then turned it off, preferring the quiet of the deserted streets and the dark, sleeping neighborhoods.
When she arrived at Oz’s house she cut the engine and waited in the driveway. Although Citizens First seemed to be embroiled in an internal leadership crisis that had the group splintering into factions, she wanted to be sure no one was watching the house.
She waited five minutes, long enough for a Peak Tactical patrol car to make a circuit down the street. She wondered if they’d phone into the command center with the gossip that they’d seen her car in Oz’s driveway, and then get the news she’d been fired. Maybe they already knew.
Satisfied she was alone, she locked her car and walked up the path to the front door. She checked her phone for the code—his jersey number repeated twice. She’d have to talk to him about picking something more cryptic. She unlocked the door with his key, then quickly tapped in the numbers to disarm the alarm.
She flicked on lights as she moved through the open-plan ground floor. The white walls and furniture made everything look clean and bright and orderly, and she understood why Oz liked this style so much. The house felt calm and organized, a haven in the middle of the bustling city and his hectic life.
She drifted into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but the contents impressed her nonetheless. Big hunks of salmon, two packets of ground turkey, a tub of yogurt, and more varieties of fruits and vegetables than she could name.
She filled a glass from the carton of organic orange juice and slid onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. The juice was tart and delicious, the counter surfaces pristine, the house silent except for the barely perceptible hum of the refrigerator.
Glynn’s words resurfaced in her mind—his suggestion that she was grounded. Maybe she was naïve not to have thought about it before. She’d
been too preoccupied with the emotional bumps and hurdles of their relationship to consider the material side. Of course she liked Oz’s house and his car and all the other stuff his salary permitted, including the hand-squeezed orange juice in her glass.
But she liked those things because they were extensions of him. He could live in a trailer with a hole in the roof and drive a wreck with windows that didn’t roll down and she’d probably find it endearing.
“Anyway,” she said aloud, draining the glass and stowing it in the dishwasher. She climbed the elegant staircase to his bedroom, shucked off her clothes and folded them on top of the dresser, then pulled one of his T-shirts over her head. It smelled like him. The whole house smelled like him.
Not quite ready to settle down, she drifted around the bedroom. She reached for a bottle of cologne on the dresser, then withdrew her hand. Then rolled her eyes at herself.
He’d given her his key. Sent her into his house on her own. She left the military in search of permanency, and now he offered it to her. She just had to find the courage to accept it.
The cologne probably cost as much as two tanks of gas. She picked it up, opened the top, and inhaled. The scent was woody and masculine and tantalizingly familiar.
She replaced the cap and examined the other objects on the dresser. The remote control for the TV. Two rolls of blue kinesio tape. A little red wooden horse with a white- and blue-painted harness and mane.
She touched them each in turn, savoring these glimpses into his everyday life. His house still didn’t feel like home, but he did. He felt like somewhere she belonged.
A yawn took her by surprise and she stretched, suddenly tired. She slipped between the crisp sheets and switched off the lights. She exhaled in pure contentment and fell instantly asleep.
* * * *
It was after two o’clock in the morning when Oz climbed the stairs and crossed the hall to his bedroom, but he was wide awake. The high-energy DJ set left him full of adrenaline, and seeing Kate’s car in his driveway and knowing she was in his bed doubled his excitement. He had to take a calming breath before opening the bedroom door, which he wanted to fling wide on its hinges.
Defending Hearts Page 21