Still rooted to the spot, she allowed Anthony to pick them up for her as her heart began to pound.
She couldn’t believe it. It was him. Here. She thought he was in Hong Kong or Beijing. Why was he back already?
She turned around—and seeing Ben was like slamming into a brick wall. She couldn’t even muster a fake smile and simple “hi.”
His stare bore into her. It wasn’t the same hungry-wolf look that she had been accustomed to seeing during her week with him, but it wasn’t dissimilar, and it had the same effect of rattling her to the bones.
Anthony, having picked up on the words “my place,” raised his brows. Ben didn’t e
ven look like he noticed Anthony, but Kimani knew Ben noticed a lot of things that other guys tended not to.
Somehow she had convinced herself that she was never going to see Ben again, so she had never prepared for what she would say if their paths did cross. From his lack of response to her messages and letter, she had assumed he wouldn’t ever want to talk to her again.
Luckily, she was saved from the prolonged agony when a female campaign volunteer called out, “Anyone need a lift to their precinct?”
“I should grab her offer,” Kimani said, turning to Anthony for the doorhangers and folders. She felt stupid for not even saying hello to Ben, but she didn’t want to stick around.
“I’ll help carry the stuff,” Anthony offered.
“I’ve got it,” Ben said sternly, perhaps the only person impervious to Anthony’s smile.
Anthony handed over the stuff with a touch of reluctance. He held out his hand. “I’m Anthony, one of the precinct captains.”
Ben looked at Anthony for the first time. He shook the young man’s hand. “Ben. Lee.”
“Oh! Are you related to Gordon?”
“He’s my uncle.”
Anthony brightened and shook hands more warmly. “Nice to meet you.”
“I should catch my ride before she leaves,” Kimani said. She tried to take the doorhangers and folders from Ben. “I can get these.”
But he didn’t release his hold of the materials. “I’ll give you a lift.”
No, no, no, no! She didn’t want that. Several weeks ago, she had longed for the chance to talk to him, to tell him how sorry she was—face to face, not via a letter. But now that she had reconciled herself to the fact that she would never have that opportunity, now that she had accepted he probably hated her guts, she preferred that he was out of her life.
“I’m perfectly fine taking the bus, too,” she said, “which is what I had planned on doing.”
Ben ignored her. “Bataar has the car parked in front.”
Her mouth went dry. Hurry, think of something!
As if sensing an alternative might prove helpful, Anthony said, “Or I can drive. In fact, given where you’re walking, it’s probably best you have someone with you.”
That wasn’t the solution she was looking for.
“I’m sure, as a precinct captain, you’re needed here,” Ben said to Anthony.
When she didn’t budge, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to take Anthony up on his offer, Ben grasped her elbow and guided her toward the doors. She opened her mouth to object at being dragged out as if she were a child refusing to leave the candy store. She wasn’t his to boss around. She wasn’t his...pet. Not anymore.
“I don’t need a ride,” she said when they were outside. She spotted his silver Porsche Panamera.
Whatever you do, girl, don’t get in that car.
But maybe he just wanted to escort her off the premises because he didn’t want her around him or his uncle. She couldn’t blame him.
At the car, they stopped. She turned around. Meeting his gaze, she faltered. She couldn’t make out the emotion in his eyes. Her insides crumbled, but mustering her courage, she said softly, “I tried to reach you, but I take it you didn’t want to be reached—which I totally get.”