Chapter Eleven
Claire sat at her desk sifting through bills and tried not to think about the weekend. About how much her thighs had ached, and how long it had been since anything had felt so good.
Priorities, she reminded herself sternly.
Her daughter, her clients, and somewhere in there, herself. A few hours with Ryan made for a fun, crazy coincidence. They didn’t exactly change her life.
And her life was here. In this office she’d made for herself, without any help from a man who’d once convinced her to drop everything to support his career.
Not that it had taken much convincing. But she knew better now.
She’d intentionally overbooked herself for the week. Maybe if she said yes to every single person who asked to be squeezed in, she could afford the babysitter she was going to need if she wanted to date again with any regularity. One night with Ryan between her thighs had affirmed that dating was something she did want to do more of before she died.
More importantly, maybe keeping busy would stop her mind from constantly circling back to the feel of his hands on her, the way everything in him was so rough and hard and tender all at once. Back to the memory of how great he could be when he wanted to.
She needed to focus on feeling that way toward other men. It wasn’t like she could just have some reunion every five years when he popped into her life and then went on his way.
She needed someone who’d want to stick around and be there for Maya. She needed someone she could have an actual future with—not just a complicated history.
She’d made the right call in not letting herself get back into bed with him. She’d feel his long, lean muscles press against her back as he stroked her hair, and then it would have been even harder to crawl out of the big, warm bed, slide on her damp underwear, and make her way home, alone.
Work. She had to focus on work, and her life, and everything she’d become since she left Ryan. She was trying so hard to be that person, she barely looked up when Sonia said there was a delivery for her.
“Leave it wherever—I’ve got a client about to come in,” Claire said, flipping through files.
But Sonia didn’t move. “I think you might want to see what it is.”
Claire heard the note in her voice and finally looked up. The petite woman was dwarfed by a giant basket in her hands.
“Jesus!” Claire cried, the exclamation popping right out of her. “Um, put it on the desk. Here.” She tried to clear some space, but the basket completely took over.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I think it’s a present.”
“I can see that.”
With its fat pink ribbon and insane packaging—and were those roses in with the wine, chocolates, and bath salts?—it was officially the most indulgent, over-the-top gift she’d ever received.
“Remember that guy who booked the walk-in appointment the other morning?” Sonia asked.
“What about him?” Claire said warily, putting down a container of lavender bath oil that promised “floating calm.”
“He likes you,” Sonia said with a smirk.
Claire couldn’t meet her eyes without feeling her face turn bright red. “He used to,” she clarified. “But he lives in Chicago and is already home, so I really don’t—”
“Did you read the note?” Sonia interrupted impatiently.
“There’s a note?”
Sonia pointed to a card snuggled in the arms of a teddy bear. Great, just what Maya needed. More toys.
“Did you read the note?” Claire asked as she plucked the card from the bear’s fuzzy arms.
Sonia grinned. “Somebody’s got to look out for you.”
Claire made a face, but she opened the note anyway and read.
You need a break. Let me give it to you.
And then a phone number.
Even if she no longer had his cell phone memorized, she recognized it instantly, a blast that took her all the way back to New York.
She shook her head and closed the card. Like hell she was going to get into some long-distance phone sex marathon with someone who wasn’t in her life as more than fantasy. Ryan may have been right—she did need a break. But the break wasn’t him.
Sonia folded her arms. “Girl. If somebody sent me one of the Cascade’s hand-curated gift baskets, no way would I have that just-stepped-in-dog-shit look on my face.”
Claire’s mouth dropped open. “What did you say?”
“Your face—it’s like, who is this guy, and how come he can’t do anything right? Those bath bombs are expensive. I’ve been eyeing them ever since they added them to the Cascade’s spa. I know we’re not supposed to like them,” Sonia added quickly. “Competition and all.” She paused. “But they seriously smell amazing.”
“No.” Claire shook her head. “Before that. What about the Cascade?”
“That gift basket,” Sonia said slowly, like Claire was the kindergartener and Sonia the one who needed to repeat herself eighteen billion times a day. “The Cascade—you know, the hotel?” Claire nodded. “Their concierge service works with the spa and the gift shops to curate specialty gift baskets. Usually expensive shit for clients who hold their meetings there. And, in your case, one groveling man who has it bad for you.”
No. It couldn’t be. Sonia had no idea what she was talking about.
Claire pulled out her phone and texted the number Ryan had given her.
How’s Chicago? she asked.
I wouldn’t know, he wrote back right away.
And then, before Claire could kick her heart back to beating again, the next message came up on her screen. Pick a day this week. Any day. I’ll cover lost wages. Plus interest.
What are you talking about? she typed.
How’s Wed? he asked, ignoring her question.
She pulled up her schedule on her computer. The names all swam before her. She had no clue what she was doing.
Wed is fine, she texted, even though she had no idea.
Text me directions to your house. I’ll pick you up at 9.
After-school gets out at 5, she wrote back.
Got it. See you then.
She stared at the phone until she realized that not only was Sonia looking at her, but so was her next appointment, who couldn’t tell which was more interesting—the shocked look on Claire’s face or the ginormous gift basket with every kind of upscale product known to Washington.
“Ganache?” she asked the woman.
“How’d you get so lucky?” she said with a laugh, taking one of the creamy chocolates Claire offered.
I fell in love with a man who was wrong for me when I was too young to know I deserved better, Claire thought with a pang to her heart.
But she looked at the picture of Maya smiling on her desk, and the words didn’t come out. Chocolate filled her mouth, sweetness and cream on her tongue, and she wasn’t sure what was happening to her, that Ryan Thomas could pop up in her life again and just like that she was back in his hold.