“I’m glad you like them. They really are beautiful.”
She was a socialite, the wife of a powerful investment banker, so she spent her time at yoga and planning the next party. “Maybe we should have those at the baby shower instead. A nice springtime flair.”
“Great idea. I’ll take care of it.” I eyed the elevator when it came to a stop, realizing we were at the seventeenth floor.
Oh no.
The doors opened, and there was Jake.
Standing in a black suit, one hand in his pocket, not wearing a wedding ring.
Fucking asshole.
His eyes settled on me, not giving any reaction at all, and he stepped into the elevator and joined us.
He stood right beside me, several inches taller, his cologne the same scent I remembered.
Barbara didn’t notice anything and kept talking. “I was also thinking…” The elevator stopped again on the tenth floor. “I’m gonna stop by Cassandra’s apartment and give her a kiss.”
Oh no.
Barbara walked out.
The doors shut.
And Jake was immediately on me. “You’re just going to ignore me forever?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan.”
He moved in front of me, the elevator still moving, but the sounds of the mechanisms above us were absent because he blocked everything out. He looked down at me, his green eyes still a paradise. “Look, it’s not how it seems—”
“You’re married, right?” I was cold, not raising my voice and letting my emotion get the best of me. It hurt me badly, but I refused to show it, refused to let this man take more of me than he already had. I’d trusted him—like an idiot.
“Yes. But—”
“Then it’s exactly as it seems.” I stepped back to get away from his handsome face, to take a step back from his sexy cologne, to put some distance between us. “I don’t sleep with married men. And I shouldn’t have slept with you to begin with, not when you’re a client. And even if you weren’t my client, I still wouldn’t sleep with you because I’m not a homewrecker.”
“Nancy and I haven’t been happy in a really long time—”
I put my hand in front of his face. “I don’t care about your excuses. You’re married to her—period. And if she found out about us, I would be through. Do you realize how much your lie has fucked with me?” Now I did raise my voice. “It was already risky enough when I thought it was just you. But knowing there’s a woman in the picture…she could destroy me.”
“But she won’t because she doesn’t know.”
“Thank fucking god.” I pushed my hand into his chest and forced him back.
He didn’t fight my shove and stepped back. “Look, I’m leaving her.”
I shook my head and stared at the lights above the door, waiting for the wonderful moment when we would reach the ground floor.
“I’ve been wanting to leave her for a while.”
“I don’t care, Jake. I don’t want to be with you ever again—whether you’re married or not.”
“She lives in London for work, and I live here. It hasn’t been working for years—”
“Shut up.” I sealed my hand over his mouth so he would stop talking. “I don’t want to be with a cheater. Because if you cheat on her, you’re gonna cheat on me. Not interested.” I dropped my hand and realized we were close to the bottom.
“It’s not like that,” he argued. “I actually feel something for you—”
“And I felt something too,” I snapped. “But that all went to shit when I knew the truth. It’s done. It’s over. Just leave it alone.” The elevator reached the bottom floor, and the door started to open.
“Baby—”
“Shh!”
The doors opened and revealed Deacon Hamilton, wearing a suit with his satchel over his shoulder. His brown eyes shifted back and forth as he looked at both of us, like he knew there was tension in the elevator.
Jake and I just stood there, as if we didn’t know what to do, as if we’d just been caught.
Deacon stepped to the side slightly, lifting his arm. “Getting out or…?”
I snapped out of it. “Yes. Jake, we’ll talk about that new accountant later.” I walked out of the elevator first, didn’t look back to see Deacon’s expression, to see if Jake was following me.
I just got the hell out of there.
Four
Cleo
It was nine in the evening when I walked into my apartment.
Place was a fucking pigsty.
There were clothes all over the place. I usually didn’t even make it to the bedroom because I was too tired. I plopped down on the couch, turned on the TV, and slept in my clothes, drooling all over the pillow.
Dishes had piled up in the sink, so high I couldn’t add a single dish on top without it rolling to the tile. My fridge was empty except for a carton of expired orange juice, a couple bottles of water, and a pack of sliced American cheese, which I snacked on when there was nothing else to eat.