Just as I’m rushing out of the doorway, Nigel comes in and we collide.
My purse tumbles down and all the contents spill out. Kavan’s phone crashes to the ground, bounces once and lands face up.
I drop to my knees and sob.
Nigel crouches near me. “Juliet, I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head. “No. Don’t be.”
“I ran right into you.” His hands move quickly scooping up my wallet, a hairbrush and a package of gum. “It looks like your phone survived the fall.”
“That’s not mine.” I glance up. “It’s Kavan’s phone.”
He grabs it. “Why do you have his phone?”
“It was in my office.” I push to stand. “I think he read something on my laptop. I’m worried that he thinks I betrayed him.”
“You would never,” he says as he slides back up to his feet.
“I wouldn’t.” I sob. “There’s an article on my laptop about him. It’s not the one I submitted. This one is more personal. I’m scared that he thinks that I submitted that one.”
His hands reach for my shoulders. “We will find him, Juliet.”
“Where would he go?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I do know that Mr. Bane will be back. We need to give him time and when he’s ready he’ll be back.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Kavan
Whoever said nature does a body good didn’t get shit on by a magpie.
Fortunately that didn’t happen to me, but I saw it right in front of my eyes.
A couple walking hand-in-hand around the edge of a lake got a load dropped on them.
I would have cursed the damn bird all the way to hell, but they laughed. I heard them telling each other that meant that they were the luckiest souls on this earth.
They have that wrong.
I’m the luckiest soul.
Juliet Bardin loves me.
I lean back on the park bench I’m sitting on and stretch out my legs. I drove for hours with the music in my car blaring, and my soul feeling lighter than it has in years.
I woke up to find Juliet missing.
I scoured every inch of the penthouse for her but she was nowhere, so I doubled back to her office and that’s when I saw the open laptop.
I wanted another read of the fantastic article she wrote about Bane Enterprises and our promising future.
I read that, and then beneath it I caught sight of the sliver of another document.
I’m not a nosy bastard, but I saw my name, so I clicked.
It changed my life.
I read that article titled My Mr. Bane three times before I stood up in a daze and got on the elevator.
My heart was too full. My head crowded with so many plans for the future that I couldn’t think straight.
I pressed the button for the garage instead of the lobby and when the doors slid open I saw my car.
It’s always been my escape, so I took the keys form Alcott’s hand and headed out.
“Are you feeding the birds?” A gray-haired woman standing a few feet away asks me.
I look at my empty hands. “Not unless they’re eating air.”
She laughs and glances back at me. “You’re a funny one, are you?”
“My girlfriend is a riot.” I smile. “Me, not so much.”
She walks slowly toward the bench, relying heavily on the wooden cane in her hand. “What’s your girlfriend’s name?”
“Juliet.”
“Does that make you Romeo?”
I look right at her. “That makes me Kavan Bane.”
Her eyes flit over my face from behind wire rimmed eyeglass frames. “It’s nice to meet you, Kavan Bane.”
“It’s nice to meet you too…” I hold out a hand hoping to lure her name out of her.
“I never give my name to strangers.”
I huff out a laugh. “You know my name, so I’m not a stranger.”
That earns me a pat on the knee. “What are you doing out here all by yourself? Where’s your Juliet, Romeo?”
“It’s Kavan,” I correct her.
“I prefer Romeo.”
Nodding, I bite the corner of my bottom lip. “I’m trying to figure out how to tell Juliet that I love her.”
“Don’t drink the poison,” she quips.
I laugh. “That never crossed my mind.”
“I know the perfect way to do it.”
I look out at the vast blue water. “How?”
“I love you, Juliet.”
Those words have been running through my mind for days, maybe even weeks.
“That doesn’t feel like enough.”
Her dark brown eyes scan my face. “You’re not one of those cookie-cutter romantics, are you?”
She can’t know how fucking funny that it is. I work to hold in a laugh, but I fail.
“I take it you are?” she asks. “Seeing as how you got such a kick out of that.”
“I want to be an original romantic,” I explain. “I want to do something that will show Juliet how deeply I love her.”
She edges herself forward on the bench. “Trust me, Romeo, keep it plain. Make it simple. All your Juliet wants to hear are those three words.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Juliet
“It’s been twelve hours,” I stress to Nigel. “Should we call hospitals? How long do you have to wait to file a police report for a missing person?”