It was the businessman on the phone, not exactly what I wanted and yet his cool, perfectly formed words soothed me.
“Sinclair,” I breathed, because I didn’t know what else to say.
There was a beat of silence. “Yes, I fully comprehend the seriousness of it. I’m in the middle of a meeting though. I will call you back.”
Click.
I stared at the home screen of my phone blankly for a second, absorbing the rush of disappointment that crashed over me. Of course, he was busy. I had no right to even call him in the first place. He was at the most my new friend, and at the worst, my ex-lover. You simply didn’t call someone like that to vent, especially if it was about his or her goddamn partner.
“I’m going insane,” I murmured to my wide-eyed reflection.
After a few deep breaths and chastisements, I washed my hands and went back to the kitchen where my sisters were chatting away amiably, as if nothing had happened.
I guess nothing really had.
“I was just inviting Cosima to the annual Romani International charity gala next Friday,” Elena said as I reclaimed my seat. “It’s an organization that advocates for the rights of nomadic peoples across the world. I thought, maybe, and I know it is late notice,” she cleared her throat, “you would like to attend too?”
It was Sin’s charity. My heart fluttered at the thought of discovering more about it and of seeing Candy Kay again.
“I would love to.”
Elena and I smiled at each other for the second time that day, for the second time in over five years, and the tenderness I felt ached like a bruise.
My phone began to ring and I looked down at the screen with surprise: Faire Developments.
“Excuse me.” I slipped off my stool again and made my way to the balcony. “I should take this.”
Cosima caught my eye as I moved passed her, now clad in a robe, and I knew she was suspicious of my behavior. I ignored her and hustled outside.
“Hello?”
“Giselle.” His voice was warmer. “I’m sorry about the delay. You sounded upset.”
I sighed and leaned against the railing separating me from the nine-story drop. “I was but that’s no excuse, I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“I’m flattered that you called me.”
“Really?”
“Of course, it means I am the first person you think of when something bad happens. That’s no mean status.”
“No, I guess it isn’t. Although, I was upset partially because of you.”
“Ah, I suppose that makes sense.” I could hear the humour in his voice. “What did I do this time?”
I smiled even though my words still hurt. “Elena was talking about your sex life. About, well, about how you went home last night and ‘practically attacked her’.”
“I see.”
I waited for him to elaborate or for me to somehow die of embarrassment but neither happened.
“I told you it was silly, I’m sorry, I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Nothing you ever feel is silly, Elle.” He sighed. “But what did you expect? Elena is my girlfriend.”
“I know.” God, I felt like a complete idiot.
“Don’t feel stupid,” he ordered, somehow reading my mind. “It’s the fucking situation that is stupid, not you.”