Tempting the Billionaire (Love in the Balance 1)
Before he left, he put in a call to Keena and another to Angel, letting them know he’d be unreachable for a few days. Then he climbed behind the wheel of his Porsche and pointed south. When guilt began to nag him, he cranked the radio. If he gave in now, he’d make an emotional decision. And that was a bad idea, considering a certain someone had taken over his emotions.
Chapter 31
Crickitt balanced the to-go cup holder on one hand and rang Shane’s doorbell with the other. She’d called the office this morning and Keena let her know Shane was “unreachable” for a few days, which she assumed meant Shane was planning on spending some extra time with her. An assumption she began doubting as she pressed his doorbell for the third time.
They had agreed to wait and see each other tomorrow at her insistence, but she woke up missing him and couldn’t resist the urge to drive over to see him. Last night he’d asked her to stay, and she told him no. Not until this morning did she recall the flash of hurt in his eyes at her refusal. Remembering the tender way he kissed her good night at her doorstep caused tears to burn her throat.
Their relationship was shifting, moving them closer to one another. But it wasn’t a tectonic plate shift happening gradually and quietly over many millennia. This was more of a seven-point-oh-on-the-Richter-scale earthquake forcing them together. And she, for one, had been knocked on her butt.
She clapped the brass knocker on the door, but still no answer. Until now, she thought Shane had been knocked on his butt, too.
“Hello, Ms. Day,” came Thomas’s friendly greeting. He was dressed in his driver’s finery, cap in hand.
“Good morning. Have you seen Shane?”
He shook his head. “No, but he called a few minutes ago. Asked me to check on the place, then gave me the week off.” He glanced at the tray in her hand holding two coffees and a bag of Danishes. “Didn’t he tell you?”
The tray shook in her hands. He hadn’t told her. But that’s not what bothered her. What bothered her was why he hadn’t told her.
“I’m sure he left me a voice mail,” she said dismissively. “Darn phones, they never work when you need them to.” Shane had called everyone. Everyone but her. Her premonition tingled, but she refused to give it her attention. Especially with Thomas looking on.
“Guess he won’t need this, then.” She lifted a Styrofoam cup out of the tray. “Coffee?”
Thomas grinned. “Thank you, Ms. Day.”
She handed off the Danishes, too, her stomach suddenly unfit for food. Wherever Shane went he hadn’t bothered to tell her. After all they’d shared…or rather, all she thought they’d shared.
* * *
As promised, Crickitt returned to work on Wednesday. Shane did not.
Throughout the day, she left a few voice mails on his cell. She tried to sound casual, relaying messages and ending with a cheerful “Give me a call when you can.” Where was he? And why did he take off? He seemed fine the last time she saw him. He’d kissed her, pressed her against the door, and promised to see her today.
But by the end of the day, he hadn’t returned her calls or her e-mails. Drained, she entered her apartment and mumbled hello to her mother, who stood over a pot of homemade chili and quizzed her conversationally. How was work, how was Shane, what did you have for lunch? Crickitt dutifully answered her questions before heading to bed early with a headache she didn’t have to feign.
In the morning, Crickitt poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot her mother had brewed. She glanced into the hallway at her parents’ luggage lining the wall. It was just as well they were leaving. She could expect an equally long day today and tomorrow if Shane didn’t show up. And she didn’t expect him to, probably because she was afraid to hope he would.
Crickitt bottomed out the coffee mug and rinsed it in the sink. She reached for a banana on the countertop as her mother strolled into the kitchen, a well-worn book open against her pink bathrobe.
With her free hand she straightened Crickitt’s shirt collar. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
She gave her an overexaggerated shrug. “Nothing’s going on, Mom.”
Chandra Day tilted her head to the side in an age-old gesture of disbelief.
“Shane’s out of town,” I guess, “so it’s really busy at work.” She shrugged again, as if that would really sell it.
Chandra watched her daughter for a few seconds before sighing. “He’s a good man, Crickitt. I have a sense for these things. I could tell that about your father, too. Remember when we first met Ronald? He treated us to that fancy Japanese dinner where they cooked the food right in front of you.”