I squeezed my eyes, doing my best to find normalcy. Grasping the frigidness inside that still remained like a never thawing glacier, I was glad my misplaced yearning couldn’t melt it.
I was better than this.
Better than him.
Sidestepping where his arm wasn’t latched to the cabinet, I ducked around a rack of hanging slacks and cloaked myself with government. “I think you over-estimate yourself, Mr. Everett. I don’t care if you thought about me and I don’t appreciate thinking about what you were doing to yourself in the shower.”
I grew bolder as he stood there silently, a malevolent glare in his gaze.
Sage had enough of my embrace and crawled back to her spot on my shoulders. With my arms free, I let them hang proud and regal with my back tight and smile plastic. “If you thought you could overpower me, make me weak in the knees, and force me to go on a date with you, you failed yet again. Not only am I even more determined never to see you again, but you just gave away two very significant pieces of information that mean you’re not nearly as mysterious as you think you are.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow raised, the faintest sign of confusion lurking beneath the heated coal of his irises. “And what exactly is that?”
I grinned condescendingly. “Out of all the department stores in New York, you happen to choose Belle Elle. And out of the three chains we have in the city, you chose the head office. Why is that? Because you thought you might bump into me?” I shook my head. “Pity. I must admit you came at the right time and coincidence decided to shove us together but only to allow me to clarify that no matter what you say or do, my answer will forever remain no—”
“Seeing as you’re taking way too much pride in thinking you figured out my shopping habits, let’s move on. What’s the second thing I’ve revealed?” His patent leather shoes squeaked as he moved, once again hinting he wasn’t as comfortable as he implied.
His uncertainty fed my resolution. I held my chin high. “That you aren’t just a man in a suit looking for a quick one-night stand in a bar.”
“I’m not?” His face shut down. “How can you tell?”
“Because you have a son. Because you care enough to spend a fortune on something ridiculous because it’s based on self-worth, not the wardrobe. And because you and this unknown Larry person obviously have some resemblance of a heart. Otherwise, that kid wouldn’t want to have anything to do with you, yet he willingly curled into you to play Angry Birds.”
His posture resembled a furious predator. “You’re more observant than I gave you credit.”
“No, I’m normally this observant.” I clipped onto the walkway to freedom as if I was Dorothy on the yellow brick road to the wizard. “You just don’t know me.”
I strolled away before he could reply.
Chapter Fifteen
“THIS INVITATION JUST arrived for you.” Fleur waltzed into my office the following day in a pink and yellow sundress that somehow flirted the line between work-appropriate and beachwear.
I glanced from my laptop to the flocked envelope she held, hating the way my mind took the interruption and ran swiftly from human resource issues to once again thinking about Mr. Everett.
I’d successfully pushed him away more times than I would admit. I did not need him in my brain anymore. I didn’t even know why he was in my brain.
We had some weird form of connection, but I wouldn’t buy into the bait and I definitely wouldn’t be seduced by a man I couldn’t stand.
“Who’s it from?” I held out my hand as she approached my desk and placed the heavy invite into my awaiting fingers.
“It has a return address. Chloe Mathers, I believe.”
“Chloe Mathers?”
Why do I know that name?
A memory tantalized me with some long ignored recollection, begging to be caught and tugged.
Chloe Mathers...
Fleur smiled and showed no intention of leaving as I spun the envelope in my hands and sliced it open with a letter knife.
I frowned, pulling free a single card with bronze accents on the corners and the standard description of being invited to a get-together.
My mind slammed into remembrance.
“Oh, no,” I groaned. “That Chloe Mathers.”
Fleur planted her hands on my desk, intrigue all over her face. “Who is she? It doesn’t sound like you like her.”
“It’s not that I don’t like her. More she doesn’t like me.” I flipped the invite upside down, trying to see something personal or hint that perhaps she’d sent this to the wrong person.
“She was the most popular girl in school. For a few months of the year, when it came time for school parties or proms, she befriended me. She and her little group of stuck-up witches would ply me with sleepovers—that I didn’t want to go to, but my dad made me—and hold a seat for me in class—which I never sat in because they just cheated off my work—all to drag me to Belle Elle and get them discounts on dresses and shoes.”
“Children can be such brats.”
“Yep.” I nodded distractedly, remembering how much I’d hated high school. How every hour I spent in the faculty classrooms and listened to teachers drone on was a waste because, unlike my peers, I didn’t get to go home and play outside or hang with sweet boyfriends on the weekends.
Once the bell rang, David picked me up and drove me to Belle Elle where I’d work until well past most other students’ bedtimes.