Chapter Thirty-Nine
After turning in the last assignment of the week, after yoga at the gym, a slow walk home and a quick stop at her favourite spot to pick up an order of chicken tikka masala, Samantha was ready to shut it down for the night. She dimmed the lights, lit a candle, chose a show, and set up dinner on her coffee table. She hadn’t yet unpacked from her trip. An open suitcase lay on the living-room floor. She likely wouldn’t get to it until Sunday and that was just fine. Now it was time to chill.
The buzzer rang.
The buzzer never rang, not without some advance warning in text form. It had to be a mistake.
She hit the intercom button. ‘Sorry. Not expecting anyone.’
The voice that answered was rich like honey. ‘I know you’re not expecting me. Can I come up anyway?’
A tingling sensation spread from the tip of the finger pressing the button to her whole body. ‘Roman?’
‘Hey.’
‘What are you doing in England? How did you find me?’
‘Naomi drew me a map.’
‘What?’
‘It’s a long story.’
Her heart was racing now. All she was doing was stalling for time to recover from the shock.
‘I have something to ask you,’ he said. ‘I’d rather not do this from the steps of your building.’
She wanted to let him in; that was the problem. She wanted to throw open the door, rush down the three flights of stairs, grab him and not let him go. His voice had switched on the lights. Everything went from dull to dynamic when he said her name. That was his power over her. To keep from disclosing all this, she kept her answer short. ‘Sure. Whatever.’
Roman Carver showed up at her door in a grey jumper, grey slacks and a light trench coat. The shock of seeing him in anything other than a rumpled T-shirt blew her over. ‘Who the hell are you?’
He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, a gesture she knew well. ‘I clean up OK.’
He sounded almost sheepish. She would have bought it if his wolfish grin hadn’t betrayed him.
‘I’ve got a job now. Thought I’d give the shorts a rest.’
Samantha felt the sting of disappointment. ‘So you’re back at your firm? You took the promotion.’
He looked at her a while, connecting all the dots. ‘Tara got that promotion. I’m with Trident Data, consulting.’
‘You work with Chris? Lucky you!’
‘Lucky him.’
Samantha clapped slowly and reverently. ‘Well played. But you’re back in tech.’
‘Tech wasn’t the problem,’ he said. ‘It’s what you do with it. Chris is smart about that.’
‘Chris is just plain smart.’ Samantha was suddenly conscious of her own attire. She was dressed in grey, too, but everything was 90 per cent Spandex. ‘I just came back from yoga … no multi-million-dollar deals to speak of.’
He leaned against the doorframe. ‘You look pretty.’
Frizzy hair, shiny skin, beat-up trainers and mismatched athletic wear, it didn’t matter. He could always make her feel beautiful.
‘I hate how we left things,’ he said. ‘You left me high and dry.’
‘If memory serves, I left you soaking wet.’