Dominik (Arizona Vengeance 6)

Ultimately, I just mumble another, “I’m sorry. I really want to work this out.”

I hang up the phone, tapping it against my chin thoughtfully. Maybe he’ll call back and want to meet up for breakfast. I should shower so I’m ready to go.

With a plan of action in place, I head to the bathroom, feeling hopeful that I’m on the right track.

?

Dominik doesn’t call while I’m in the shower. I go ahead and dry my hair, put on a light dusting of makeup, and then crawl in my bed to wait.

It turns into a three-hour nap.

?

I’m stunned by the For Sale sign in front of Dominik’s house when I pull up. After my nap, with still no word from Dominik, I knew I’d have to be a bit more aggressive to get him to talk. There’s always the option of giving him space for the time being, but I just can’t do it. I feel like our entire relationship is hanging on by a very thin thread that’s about to break. I need to salvage this now for my own peace of mind.

There’s a car in the driveway—not his Porsche—but the garage door is closed, so I have no clue if he’s here or not. There’s only one way to find out.

After I park at the curb, I make my way to the front door. I ring the doorbell, my heart pounding as I wait for Dominik to hopefully give me the time of day.

When the door opens, I’m surprised to see Mrs. Osborne—his assistant—standing there. She’s a pleasant woman but very brisk and efficient. At least that’s what I remember from the handful of times I interacted with her during my trip to Los Angeles.

Her smile is polite but aloof. “Can I help you?”

“Is Dominik home?” I ask, moving in a little closer to look past her.

She moves to block my line of sight, clearly setting up a protective barrier between me and Dominik’s house. “I’m afraid he’s not.”

“Where is he?” I ask.

“I’m not at liberty to disclose that,” she replies primly.

“Mrs. Osborne, you know who I am,” I remind her with a charming smile. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”

“I’m not at liberty to disclose his whereabouts to you,” she repeats firmly, and I have to wonder… did Dominik actually instruct her to not tell me anything in the off chance I showed up? Or is she just doing her job like she normally does?

“Why is the house up for sale?” I ask.

“You’d have to ask him that,” she says, clasping her hands in front of her body.

I’m not sure why the thought of him putting this house up for sale is so scary. It’s not like I expected him to move here permanently. I mean, why would he? He has no permanent ties here, and it’s not like even I make this city my permanent home.

But still… we shared a lot in this house. I guess I had envisioned us staying here together, and I realize how pompous it is to even think like that when I couldn’t commit to anything when he asked me.

“I assume he’ll be at the game tonight,” I press.

“I’m not at liberty—”

“—to disclose that,” I finish, disgruntled. “Yes. I get that. Is there anything at all you can tell me?” I ask, finally letting down my confident façade. “I really need to talk to him.”

She just stares, her face stony.

“I hurt him,” I admit. “And I’m trying to fix it. But I can’t if he stays hidden.”

Mrs. Osborne’s expression doesn’t change one bit, but she does admit, “He will be at the game tonight. That’s all I can tell you.”

It’s not much, but at least it means I still have a shot. I nod gratefully. “Thank you. And if you see him before the game tonight, please tell him I came by and I really need to see him.”

The aloof tone is back. “I’ll be glad to pass that message on.”

Then she closes the door in my face.

?

The arena is packed with a record-sized crowd tonight. The excitement is palpable, and yet… I just can’t seem to care about any of it.

I came to the game with my parents and Regan. Dax procured us great seats down on the ice, right behind the team bench. Joining us in the same row is Pepper and her parents, along with Brooke, Nora, and Nora’s ranch manager, Raul.

I can’t sit still for long. With Dominik not answering my calls or texts, I have no choice but to try to pin him down in the owner’s box. I won’t make a scene, though, just a very heartfelt apology and a request for some of his time, perhaps tomorrow, for us to talk.

I run into no issues making it to the level where the box entrances are, the attendants who man the area knowing me well.