Chapter 12
Five days.
One hundred and twenty hours.
Seven thousand and two hundred minutes.
That’s how long Grey had been trying to exist without Evie, and he’d been failing miserably. He had left Seattle one man and had come home another. Everything looked different around him. His life was unrecognizable. Where his world once seemed bright with optimism, now it appeared dull in comparison.
In his office, sitting behind his metal desk, he regarded the drafting table across the room, aware that there were clients to make happy. With taking the long weekend off from work unexpectedly, he was already days behind on a couple of projects. But new ideas weren’t coming. He’d never been less inspired in his life. What seemed important before no longer mattered anymore, only Evie did.
She was everywhere, in his mind, even in his damn office, haunting him wherever he went. His thoughts kept circling back to her, again and again, chasing him. All he wanted to do was forget her and move on, and even that had been impossible to do.
He heaved a long sigh and turned in his chair, facing the bank of windows, glancing out at the city. Seattle’s skyline had always inspired him. Some of the buildings climbing high into the clouds were his designs, and some were buildings that had been there for years. But this skyline was the reason he’d gotten into architecture.
When he went to his father’s office every so often as a child, he’d been mesmerized by the lines of the buildings, the curves. They were perfect, like Evie’s…
“Enough,” he growled to himself, rising from his seat.
Though, even then, his gaze fell on the desk that Evie had used while she worked for his company. Fuck, she won’t leave me alone. He pressed his fists against the table and breathed deeply, his chest tightening, muscles surging with adrenaline. He wasn’t sure how much more of this punishment he could endure.
“Who pissed you off?”
When he slowly lifted his head and turned toward the doorway, he found his assistant, Janet, entering his office. Today, her short, blond bob was curled slightly, her fingernails painted a bright blue, matching the color of her fitted dress. “No one pissed me off,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black slacks.
Janet’s brows rose, her soft brown eyes searching his. “Mmhmm,” was all she said as she stopped in front of his desk, a file folder in her hands. “Okay, well that’s a lie, but let’s move on. Your first meeting today is in an hour, which means we have the chance to talk about what’s going on with you before you kick-start your day.”
He leaned his back against the window and arched a brow at her. “Do I look like I want to talk about it?”
She gave him a very thorough once-over then nodded. “Yes.”
“No,” he corrected.
She smirked, giving him that hard look she owned so well. “All right, so then let me clarify. You might not want to talk about it, but you should, because if you don’t, you are going to explode and take your anger out on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
While she had a point, Janet could be as intrusive as his mother, and he certainly didn’t let his mother push him around. “Do you have a reason for coming in here, more than just to annoy me?” he asked.
“Of course, I do.” She moved to the black, industrial chairs in front of his desk and took a seat before addressing him again. “We need to discuss something very serious, in fact.”
“Which is?” he asked, thinking he didn’t even want to know.
She crossed her legs, placing the folder on her lap and opening it, revealing papers. “I have the final check for Evie Richards here.” She sorted through the file and pulled out a slip of paper. “While I could have asked someone in accounting to sign off on it, I wondered if you might like to deliver the check to her yourself.”
Grey read between the lines and narrowed his eyes at her. The twinkle in the depths of hers sold her out. He moved to the front of his desk, resting against the edge and crossing his arms. “Janet, have you been spying on me?”
Her gaze lifted to the ceiling as she nibbled her lip. She finally said, “Spying sounds so harsh. I checked in on you.”
He gave her a flat look. “And the difference between the two is…?”
“Well, originally, I was concerned when you decided to go on some random vacation completely out of the blue,” she explained. “Which by the way is the first vacation you’ve been on since”—she pursed her lips, pondering—“actually, I can’t recall a single time you’ve been on a personal trip since I started working here.”
“That’s because I haven’t been on one,” he confirmed.
She nodded as if her point had been proved. “Then I’m sure you can understand I was quite worried about you.”
“What exactly were you afraid of?”
She held his stare. “That you’d joined a cult.”
He chuckled. Her dramatics always amused him. “You do realize that in itself is crazy,” he pointed out.
“It is not,” she defended, hands pressing against the file folder. “People join cults all the time. One day, they are normal people. The next, they are giving away all their money and moving to remote areas never to be seen or heard from again.”
“You thought that I would actually be that person?”
“Totally plausible,” she said, eyes bright with conspiracies clearly running rampant in her mind. “So then, what kind of assistant and friend would I be not to make sure you weren’t throwing your life away?”
He stared into her firm gaze and restrained his chuckle. “You watch too much television.”
“Maybe.” She half shrugged with a soft smile, leaning back in the chair. “But let’s get back to the point. Because you were acting so unlike yourself, and out of concern for you, I checked on who were you were traveling with.”
Janet would be privy to that information, too. She had total access to his life, including his credit cards because she organized his life for him and he implicitly trusted her. Regardless… “You could have asked me who I went with and I would have told you.”
“Well, yes,” she drawled, giving him a knowing look. “But what if you really had gone insane? You might have lied to me and given them all your money or something.”
He stared at her blankly. “Do you honestly believe that I’m the type of man who would join a cult?”
“Weirder things have happened,” she said, dead serious. “They happen every day, all over our country.”
He snorted and shook his head at her. “I think it might be time to ban you from television. Soon, you’ll have a secret room with conspiracy theories taped to the walls.”
“Who says I don’t already.”
A long pause.
She gave a full belly laugh. “Just kidding. I’m not at that level yet, but I was concerned. Truly.”
“Well, thank you for being worried, I do appreciate that.” Janet had been with him long enough that she was like family, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her. But that meant she was clingy like his mother. Always hounding him, always in his business, even if it was done out of love. “But I’m not in a cult, and I don’t foresee joining one in the future either.”
“Good,” she said with a firm nod. “However, you still have a choice to make.” She shook the check in her hand and added, “You can deliver this check to Evie yourself. Or you can stay in your office and keep pouting.”
“I. Do. Not. Pout.” He frowned.
“Oh, yeah?” She pointed at his face, a big smile on hers. “Pout. Scowl. Glare. Whatever way you want to look at it, you’re miserable. So instead of sitting in here and hating the world, go do something about it.”
Grey glanced at the check in Janet’s hand. His heart raced at the thought of seeing Evie again. He wanted to see her…touch her…taste her, of course, he did. But he’d done enough already to shove himself into Evie’s life, and that hadn’t ended well for her. Actually, it hadn’t ended well for anyone.
From what the staff at the resort told him before he departed that same day to catch a private flight home, Holly cancelled her wedding. Grey wanted to know how Evie was holding up. But she hadn’t come to him, called, texted…nothing. He wouldn’t force her into anything again. His missing her was his punishment.
Determined in his next steps, he turned around to his desk and picked up a pen. Janet handed him the check, and after he’d signed it, he offered it back to her. “Send it by courier.”
Janet’s brows shot up, voice softened. “I think you’re making a big mistake here.”
“While I appreciate that you’re looking out for me,” he said slowly, ensuring she heard him. “I do not wish to discuss this any more than we have. That will be all, Janet.”
Being the amazing assistant—and friend—she was, she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
* * *
Only a few blocks away from Pike Place Market, Evie stood in the center of the bare room that would house a new up-and-coming media company that partnered with top brands to publish mobile apps and advertising. In three weeks, they’d leave behind their dingy office space and move into the elite downtown core of Seattle, where they’d make their mark on the world.
Evie studied the space. It was everything she’d hoped it would be and more. Bare white walls led down to dark barnwood floors, and above her, the industrial pipes had been left exposed. She’d been given a blank canvas to create the modern and fun environment the company was looking for, which she would give to them. And the project was precisely what she needed to get her head back in the game and off Grey.
She’d done the whole getting-over-a-guy routine before. Hell, she’d left Holly and Seth behind before, and had gotten past the hurt she felt with them. Surely, then, she could get over Grey. They barely had any history. One weekend. Plus, some working hours. That was it.
Yes, she was moving on already.
Determined to get her mind off things, she approached the bank of windows, staring out at another brick wall. While she liked the industrial feel of the building, the space didn’t have the views that Grey’s building…
Dammit, Evie, stop it!
She dropped her head into her hands and breathed deeply, then began rubbing her temples, trying desperately to erase Grey from her mind. He was there in her thoughts. All the time. Never fading. His touch. His voice. His smile. Those smoky eyes. Crap, even his cologne. She could forget nothing.
“Evie.”
She gasped, startled, spinning around, finding her assistant, Monica, standing by the elevator with a hand on her hip. Her long, black hair framing her round face was perfectly in place as always. The tattoos covering her arms rocking. Even her cute, fifties-style cherry-print dress was normal. The concern on her face was anything but usual.
“Oh, my God,” Evie said, laughing, pressing a hand to her thumping heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I said your name four times,” Monica said with a smirk, approaching then and handing Evie a cup of coffee. “Is everything okay? You look frazzled.”
“I’m fine.” Evie sighed, accepting the cup. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“No probs.” Monica spun in a slow circle, taking in the open room as Evie had done. “Well, this space is pretty incredible, isn’t it?”
Evie sipped her coffee and nodded. “I don’t think we’ve ever worked on such a new space before.”
“We haven’t,” Monica agreed, glancing toward the bank of windows before adding, “Do we have total control of the design?”
“Total freedom with the elements,” Evie explained, hugging her paper cup with both hands, embracing the warmth. “But they’re pretty strict on wanting a modern design with a retro flare.”
Monica blinked. “They want modern but retro?”
“Yes.” Evie laughed.
“People are so confusing,” Monica muttered, shaking her head.
“I can’t disagree with you there.” Evie scanned the space again, sipping her coffee, imagining all the modern furniture with a couple of retro accents to give the clients the vibe they wanted. “But I actually think what they want is going to work in this space,” she finished.
“You’re the expert,” Monica said, then she practically purred, “When do we get to go shopping?”
“Later today.”
“Oh, goodie!”
Evie laughed at the gleam in Monica’s eyes. Sure, Monica was damn good at keeping the schedule organized and the clients happy, but her eyes lit up whenever they started on a new project, all because they got to spend other people’s money. Monica had a full-fledged shopping addiction, and she’d made a career out of it.
“So,” Monica drawled, shifting from foot to foot. “There’s something else we need to talk about.”
Evie swallowed the coffee in her mouth. “What’s that?”
“Greyson Crawford’s…” Instinctively, Evie froze as Monica added, “…firm delivered our final payment before I left the office.” She reached into her purse and handed Evie the check. “Looks like Grey signed it himself.”
Evie ran her fingers across Grey’s signature. Every check before this one had always been signed by the CFO of his company or someone else in accounting. Why did he sign this check himself?
Was he thinking about me? Did he want me to know that I had been on his mind? Does that mean something? Or is this just a check that he signed?
Round and round Evie went. Back and forth her mind returned to him, no matter how many times she told herself to get over it. Her heart squeezed, her soul feeling empty without him. And the power of that admission to herself was simply staggering. She barely knew him. They only had three days and a few hours of an additional night together. What if they had longer, would this need for him get worse or fade away?
She drew in a deep breath then lifted her head and smiled, handing Monica back the check. “Well, that’s done then.”
Monica tucked the check away in her purse and then regarded Evie for a long moment. “Is it done, though?” she asked softly. “Because from where I’m sitting, and judging by how sad you’ve been since you came home from your trip, it seems anything but done.”
Evie hesitated, staring at a woman who’d become her best friend over the last years of working together. She tried to clear her mind of all the messy emotions, making this simple, sticking to the facts. “Do you think it’s weird that I miss him?”
“Weird, hell no,” Monica said with a laugh. “He’s tattoos, sex, and alpha yumminess. Also, let’s not forget that you said he gave you the best sex of your life. I think anyone would miss that.”
If only it were that easy. “But it’s not the sex that I miss,” Evie explained, trying to get out what she felt so she could begin to understand it herself. “It’s all of him. It’s the way I felt around him. It’s how comfortable I was with him.” Emotions began to tighten her throat, but she pushed them away, feeling like now that she’d started talking, she couldn’t stop. “I miss how happy I was with him, how content I felt, how easy life seemed when I was with him. Is that normal for me to feel that way?”
“Frankly, I think you’re asking the wrong person if you want to know about normal relationships,” Monica said, shifting the straps of her purse higher on her shoulder. “Greg and I had a shotgun wedding after a month of dating when I was nineteen.”
“But you’re still together and happy, so I think that makes you entirely qualified to answer that question.”
Monica gave a lopsided smile. “Maybe.” She drew in a deep breath before speaking again. “If I know anything about love, it’s that it’s hard to find that special someone who makes you light up inside. If Greyson Crawford made that happen for you, then I say go and tell him and see where it goes.”
“Easier said than done,” Evie said aloud this time, dropping down onto the floor to sit cross-legged. “If he wanted something more,” she stated, as Monica sat down across from her, “he could have said: ‘I want to give this a real shot.’ But he didn’t.”
“Okay, that’s a valid point,” Monica agreed, setting the skirt of her dress over her knees. “Though maybe this is all as complicated for him as it is for you.”
“You could be totally right about that,” Evie agreed with a soft nod, placing her coffee mug between her crossed legs. “But I’ve been hurt enough. It was scary to start dating again after Seth. The thought of opening my heart to a guy like Grey outright terrifies me.”
Monica paused then nodded. “Love is risky. Scary as fuck, really.” Her head tilted, her eyes narrowed in concentration. “However, what if he’s really never found that one, and that’s why he’s been so closed up. I mean, it sounded like you two had something incredible. Magic like that only happens once.”
Evie glanced down at her coffee cup and sighed heavily, thinking that’s exactly what Violet had told her, too.
“For as long as I’ve known you,” Monica added softly, breaking into the silence. “You’ve never been the type to sit around and mope. So, what are you going to do?”
She smiled and offered, “Drink to get over him?”
“Oh, hell yes, it is Friday night, after all.” Monica slapped Evie’s leg, her eyes twinkling with ideas for the adventure ahead of them. “Let’s get this shit done here so we can get shit-faced.”
“Deal,” Evie said with a laugh.
Tomorrow would come, and the next day, and hopefully each day that passed, she’d miss him less until she forgot the name: Greyson Crawford.