I studied her as she bent over the table. She had pulled her hair up and had removed her jacket, her soft silk blouse showing off her arms and delicate neck. She had kicked off her shoes, the high heels she hated but wore because she knew how much I loved how sexy they made her legs look. She was muttering, biting her lip in frustration, and I cracked the door a little, listening to her utter my name along with a few choice curse words. She was adorable.
She also looked tired—more than usual. I knew I kept her busy, both here and at home. I had been away a lot—more than I’d planned or wanted to be. She hated it, although she never complained. The sadness on her face when I would leave said it all.
She had been restless the past few nights, and twice I had woken to find her on the sofa, curled up w
ith a blanket. I was sure she had been crying, but she insisted everything was fine.
“I just wandered out for a drink of water and passed out on the sofa,” she laughed, waving my worry away. “You know I do that on occasion.”
She did, but usually there was a glass as evidence. I needed to figure out what was going on with her.
I pulled open the door, and she looked up with a smile.
“All done?”
I dropped a kiss to her head and flung myself onto the sofa close to her. “For now.” I scrubbed my face. “Am I safe to be in the same room as you?”
She laughed, securing some slips of paper into place. “I have most of it. You were so busy last month, there are a lot of receipts. I’ll find the rest tomorrow.” She flashed me a smile, but it seemed forced. “But you owe me dinner.”
“I owe you a lot more than that.”
“We can start with food.”
I leaned back on the sofa, studying her as she gathered all the bits of paper that took me away from her. Cabs, meals, plane tickets, hotel bills. And there would be more in the next while. It hit me right then what was going on.
I was an idiot.
At the office, Mandy was so good at reading me that sometimes I didn’t have to complete my thoughts—she simply knew what I was going to say, or anticipated my needs and acted accordingly.
But at times, on a personal level, she needed more. And I had neglected that part of our relationship this week, dropping a bombshell on her without following up later at home.
“How about we start with a little clarification?” I mused, draping my arms over the back of the sofa.
She slid the lid onto the receipt box. “About?”
I tilted my head. “I love you, Mandy.”
Her smile was genuine this time. “I love you too, Mitch.”
“You are my nucleus, sweetheart. Everything I’ve accomplished, every step of my plan, I can’t possibly do without you.”
“Oh.” She seemed confused. “Well, I’m right here.”
“I know. I said something the other day, and I didn’t say it properly.”
She swallowed, her throat working nervously. “And?”
“I told you I want to maybe open up another office. But what I didn’t say was if I did, whenever I go, I plan to take you with me. In fact, I want you to start traveling with me as much as possible.”
“You-you do?”
I held out my hand, and she let me pull her across the sofa. She straddled my lap, her skirt riding up, the lace of her thigh-highs peeking out from under the material.
For a moment, I was distracted, rubbing the rough texture between my fingers.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “You’ve been wearing these all day?”
She slapped my hands. “Yes.”