I stripped my bed and laundered the linens, placing them in vacuum-sealed bags with a dryer sheet, something I’d somehow retained from small talk in the employee breakroom.
As I roll my suitcase toward my bedroom, I realize my apartment is just as sterile as Gaige’s office is. I’ve stayed in hotel rooms that have more life to them than my home does, and it makes me feel even more depressed.
I know he works a lot. It’s one of the things we discussed.
Does he also use the free time he did manage to find to get lost in someone else to take the edge off his loneliness like I do? Did he do that last night after I declined dinner?
Not my business. Not my concern.
And none of it matters.
I’ve already sent the email to Mr. Black. I no longer work for BBS, despite the reason for coming back to New York no longer existing. I won’t go crawling back to either. I won’t be in this apartment much longer. I may not be in the city much longer. It won’t take long before I have to start dipping into savings, but if I’m smart, I can make that money stretch for a while. I’m not a big spender. I haven’t had time to spend money because of how much I work—worked. I hate that I have to start thinking about things in the past tense, but I guess it’s good to get used to it.
My stomach grumbles, but I ignore it. The only things I need are a shower and sleep.
Chapter 35
Gaige
I’m back at the BBS offices because where else would I be? Licking my wounds in private would probably make more sense, but silence for some reason hurts more than the chatter in the breakroom.
All day the guys spoke around me, but mostly left me out of their ribbing. When they did bring me into their conversation, it had nothing to do with Leighton or the job we were working on. Either they’re great at reading my mood, or they were briefed to leave me the fuck alone about it. As the day drew on and turned into evening, the majority of the guys drifted out, the ones in relationships heading home to their significant others.
Before, I would cringe at the thought of having to go home to the same damn person day in and day out, but picturing Leighton as the woman I got to leave the office and run home to each day? Hell, I wouldn’t even want to come to work. I knew I’d try to find a way to convince Deacon to let me work from home. He wanted her to come to work for BBS, and that sounds like the perfect plan to me. She could ride my cock while talking on the phone to organize shit. I could type up court briefs for clients while she sucked my cock. It would be the perfect work situation for both of us.
Then I remember that she’s gone. She’s in New York and I’m here. She’s got no interest in me or my cock. What we had no longer exists. It has run its course. She had enough and dipped out.
The elevator dings, and a thrill of excitement runs through me. It’s late, like two in the morning late, and I’ve been the only one here for two hours. Jude got his happily ever after this way not long ago. Parker showed up and kissed him not ten feet away from where I’m sitting, but it isn’t Leighton walking in here in the middle of the night to confess her undying love.
It’s just fucking Wren, and he looks pissed.
“Hey,” I say when he approaches. “What are you doing here?”
“Deacon is a vindictive dick,” Wren mutters.
I cock an eyebrow. Deacon is a levelheaded guy, always has been.
“What did you do?”
Wren narrows his eyes at me. “Nothing.”
“Something,” I argue.
“I helped him.”
“You helped him, helped him, or you Wren helped him?”
“Is there a difference?” I slow-blink at him. “He couldn’t get Deke to stop crying. I offered to hold him.”
“And?”
“I held the baby.”
“And?”
“The baby stopped crying.”
“Okay.”
“And now I’m here in the middle of the night because he needs something.”
Maybe Deacon is a vindictive dick if he’s forcing Wren out of bed in the middle of the night because he was able to get the baby to stop crying when he couldn’t.
Wren heads to the coffee pot.
“It’s like the man knows just when I’m about to have fun with my girl,” he mutters.
“Aren’t you always about to have fun with your girl?”
He and Whitney have a very active home life.
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “But tonight, man, you should’ve seen her. We ordered this thing online that she—”
“Enough, Wren. I don’t want to know.”
He chuckles. “Still having girl trouble?”
“I’m here alone, aren’t I?”
“Don’t give up. I saw that picture. The proof is there.”