“Have you spoken to him since then?”
“Yes.” I nod, feeling my cheeks get warm as I think about him saying he was going to kiss me again in the office and then him kissing me on New Year’s Eve in front of everyone. Not that anyone noticed. “But I haven’t talked to him about what happened. I told him I needed time. Today he sent me a text that just said, ‘Time’s up.’”
“Time’s up?” he repeats.
I nod and shake my head. “I don’t know what that means—exactly.”
“My guess is your time’s up.”
I blink at him. “Okay, so what does that mean?”
“Hopefully it means he’s got his head on straight. If it doesn’t, it means that I’m going to pay him a visit.”
“Palo . . . ,” I sigh.
He shakes his head and reaches out to take my hands between both of his.
“I love you. I’ve listened to you talk about this guy since the day you started working for me. I know that you’ve had a crush on him, and I know he’s been a dick to you—which is stupid since you are one of the sweetest women I know.”
“Palo,” I whisper, feeling my chest get warm at his words.
“I swear if I didn’t like men I would make you mine. My mom would be thrilled beyond belief if I brought a girl like you home, but that’s never going to happen. Still, this guy is an idiot for not taking anything you are willing to give him,” he says.
My chest gets warmer.
“He’s had his heart broken,” I tell him, not even sure why that matters exactly. It’s the only defense I have.
“Did you break his heart?”
“Well . . . no.”
“Then he’s just an idiot. You’re not the one who hurt him. You’re Libby! Sweet, beautiful Libby. He’s a dick for treating you like crap.”
“I love you,” I blurt. His hands tighten around mine.
“Ditto, love, which is why I’m worried about you.”
“I’ll be okay,” I assure him, not sure if I’m lying or not.
“I know, in the end, you will be. But I’m worried about the time between then and now. You like this guy. You have for a long time.”
“I know . . . I also know I probably shouldn’t like him,” I admit.
“No, you shouldn’t,” he agrees.
This makes my stomach drop. He tugs my hands, forcing me closer.
“As much as it kills me to say it, you need to explore this. I’m worried about what will happen, but I know that if you don’t explore this thing between you two, you will regret it and you won’t be able to move on. So if he comes to you, listen to what he has to say, and then decide from there what to do.”
Biting my lip, I think about what he’s just said. I know he’s right. I won’t be able to move on until I figure out what’s going on between Antonio and me. I’m also scared to hear what he has to say.
“I’ll hear him out.”
“Good.” He gives my hands a squeeze. “Now I need to get back to work before Josie’s hair falls out. I left her in foils in my chair.”
I gasp. He never leaves a client.
“She’ll be okay.” He waves off my worried look and stands. “Are you done for the day?”
“I’m done here. I still need to run a few dresses back to clients,” I say as I stand.
He nods in understanding.
“Get home safe. If you talk to Antonio tonight, I expect you to tell me everything he says when I see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll call,” I say as he leans down to kiss my cheek before he leaves the office.
After leaving the salon, I head to one of my clients who lives just down the block. I drop off two dresses that she had rented out for New Year’s. Then I head to the East Side and drop off three more dresses to another client. By the time my cab pulls up outside my place, it’s already after eight in the evening. I’m not just tired—I’m exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping well these last few days. Not with everything that has happened.
I unlock the door and go inside the apartment, stopping dead when I see Mackenzie lying on the couch in a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt.
“Hey.” She lifts her head off the arm of the couch. I notice that her eyes are red and puffy. Then I see the mass of tissues that has collected on top of the coffee table.
“What’s going on?”
I shut the door.
She starts to sob, covering her face with her hands.
“Is the baby okay?” I ask as my stomach fills with worry.
“The baby is fine,” she whimpers, pulling her hands from her face.
“Is it Wesley?” I ask.
She covers her face once again and cries harder, making me worry about Wesley’s reaction to her being pregnant. I hope he didn’t say something about not wanting the baby. I resolve that if he did, I’ll get in a cab to go kick his ass.