CHAPTER THIRTY
Cole
Lori and I stand across from each other at my desk with no more than five minutes to spare before the line on my desk phone rings with a client update. I spent thirty seconds of that time staring at her, unfamiliar, barely contained anger, pulsing through me that may or may not have everything to do with her walking away from me at the party. Apparently, being called my wife after seeing her ex was disturbing enough that she forgot she was actually at the party to do a job. Or maybe it was the fucking orgasm I gave her right before she saw her ex.
“Do you love him?” I ask, because her answer defines how I move forward, how we move forward.
She blanches. “What?”
“Do you love him?”
“God no.” She steps forward and presses her hands on the desk, leaning in closer to me. “No, Cole. I do not, nor have I ever, loved Lance.”
“Then why do you hate him so much?”
“You just asked if I love him,” she counters.
“As the saying goes, there’s a fine line.”
“I never loved him. I was—”
“Infatuated,” I supply again.
“With his talent, which is far different from loving him. And it wore off even before I left him.”
“And yet you walked away from me in that room, and attempted to refuse to leave with me,” I counter.
“Not because of him. A man had just suggested I was your wife, which as your intern is a problem.”
“One in two hundred people we met together tonight suggested such a thing,” I say. “You overreacted.”
“You’re right,” she says. “I did. Had that man mistaken me for your wife any other time, I probably wouldn’t have reacted like I did, but Lance rattled me.”
“That pretty much tells me what I need to know.”
She pushes off the desk. “What does it tell you?”
“If you didn’t care about him, he couldn’t rattle you.”
“Then I guess I’m not as strong as you, Cole. Lance is a part of all the bad I left behind. When that man called me your wife, it scared me. I don’t want to end up working four jobs to survive the rest of my life.”
I straighten and fold my arms in front of me. I get why she’s afraid of losing her second chance, but I don’t like how much power Lance has over her.
“He is nothing to me,” she says, as if reading the questions in my mind, “and maybe I shouldn’t care this much that you believe me—I mean, we’re just having sex, right?—but I do.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because like everything else with you, I can’t seem to not do it. You’re like a drug, and it’s making me crazy.”
“Not crazy enough, apparently,” I say.
“No one has ever made me crazy like this, Cole. No one.”
My phone rings and I pick up the line. “This is Cole.”
“Did you miss me?” Ashley asks.
“Yes,” I say simply. “Why are you still taking my client calls from Paris?”
“Because I’m the contact everyone knew could get to you. And I still can.”
“Who’s the client?” I ask.
“Tara Knight.”
“Hold on,” I say. “I’m putting you on speaker with Lori Havens, my new—”
“Me?” she asks.
“No. She’s the future me.” I put Ashley on speaker. “Tell us about the case,” I order, folding my arms in front of my chest again, and looking at Lori, who is looking at me.
“Hi, Lori,” Ashley says.
“Hi, Ashley,” Lori replies.
“Tara Knight called me in a panic,” she says.
“As in the superstar actress?” Lori asks.
“Yes,” Ashley confirms. “Her. She’s the client. David Curry, the equally famous actor, is dead. He overdosed. The police think she gave him the drugs. She says she’s being setup because they hate her father, which we know is true, since Cole represented her father in a securities fraud case, and got him off.”
“And several members of law enforcement fired,” I add for Lori’s benefit.
“She’s holding off the police,” Ashley says, “but she needs you, Cole. I already booked you a private jet. Normal airport and spot. It’s ready now.”
“Didn’t you quit?” Cole asks.
“About that. Can you pick up?”
I grab the line. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Yes. He’s a bastard. I want to come back. Do I have a job?”
“With a fucking raise,” I say. “When can you be here?”
“Two weeks? Can you make it that long?”
“We’ll make it work.”
“Good. Then I’ll book you a hotel room now. Do you need one for Lori?”
“Yes,” I say. “I do.”
“I’ll text you the details. There’s a car waiting on you in the parking garage to avoid party congestion at the front of the building.”
“You did all of this from Paris?”
“And I’ll be doing it from New York City soon. Later, boss.” She hangs up.
I set the receiver down and refocus on Lori. “We’ll go by your place and then mine on the way to the airport.”
“No,” Lori says instantly. “No, I need to—”
“Do your job,” I say, leaning on the desk again. “And with a chance to say you worked on a case this high profile.”
“I’m quite clear on the opportunity this represents,” she says. “I’m anxious to work the case. That’s not the problem.”
No, I think, Lance is the problem. “You’ll get your own room.” I grab a few files and stick them in my briefcase. “Grab whatever you need from the office and let’s go.” I round the desk. “Unless you’ve decided you can’t do the job, because this is the job, Lori.”
“I can and will do the job and do it well,” she says. “I told you. I’m with you. I’m staying, but I’ll meet you at the airport. That’s all I was going to say.”
“I’ll take you by your apartment.”
“I’ll meet you,” she insists. “My mother is perceptive. She’ll figure out there is something between us.”
“Your mother works nights.”
“And we are in a small building where everyone knows everyone.”
She cuts her eyes. She’s lying. I don’t like being lied to, especially by someone I’d actually started to believe mattered to me. I should leave her behind. Fuck. Who am I kidding? There isn’t a chance in hell that I’m leaving her behind. “Let’s go,” I say, rounding the desk.
***
Lori
Cole and I slide into the backseat of the car, and despite the small space dividing us, we’re miles apart. “Where to?” the driver asks.
I give him the cross street a block down from my apartment, and my fingers curl into my palms, my dread over Cole being anywhere near my apartment building driving me insane. This isn’t how this was supposed to play out tonight. We were supposed to go to his place. We were supposed to do a lot of things. I have a lot of time to think about our talk in his office and his fixation on Lance and what it means. He wouldn’t care about Lance if he just wanted to fuck me. And I wouldn’t have to risk so much for Cole if I just wanted to have sex with him. That’s what I missed in my grand plan to end things tonight, or rather, what I refused to admit. There’s more to my connection with Cole than sex. We’re not the blossom that matures and fails to bloom. We’re that new bud that begins to blossom from the moment it’s given life.
We turn one block from my apartment and I speak up. “You can stop here.”
“Keep going,” Cole interjects, without looking at me. “I’ll tell you when.”
I don’t argue. Cole obviously knows my intent and he obviously knows my address since he stops the driver in front of my building. “How did you know where I live?”
“It was in your file,” he says, looking over at me for the first time since we began the drive. “I have an excellent memory to go along with my ability to read people.”
There’s an undertone there that says he’s read me and doesn’t like what he’s seen. “What does that mean exactly?”
“Change into travel clothes,” he says, as if I haven’t spoken. “We’ll be in the air most of the night and change before we see anyone.”
I open the door without inviting Cole to come up with me. He opens his door and my heart thunders in my chest. I could charge ahead to the apartment. I could leave him behind, but instead, I meet him at the back of the car. “Suddenly I’m a different person than I was three hours ago?”
“I said no such thing,” he replies.
“In other words, you think you just finally saw my true colors. You’re really being an asshole, Cole Brooks.” I turn and walk away feeling the weight of his stare on my back. God, I feel this man in every possible way, but it doesn’t matter. He’s decided we’re over which should please me. That’s what I thought was best, but now, it feels pretty bad.
With that thought I dash for the door, key in the code and when I turn and look behind me, I find Cole resting on the car, arms and feet crossed. I breathe out and enter the building, all but running up the five flights of narrow stairs. Once I’m inside the apartment, I lean on the door and take in what Cole would see, a crap apartment with crap furniture since we sold the good stuff. I need to get us out of here sooner than later.
I pull my phone from my purse and dial the high-end restaurant I used to work at on the weekends and ask to be put on the on-call schedule. Once that is done, I hurry into the bedroom, change into jeans, switch to my Chanel purse, and then realize that I have no suitcase. I sold that too. I grab a large and medium duffel bag from the closet, and make do, quickly filling them both. Once I’m packed, I call my mother.
“I was just wondering how your party went?” she greets.
“Interesting,” I say, choosing my reply cautiously. “Actually, I’m headed out of town. It’s a big case, a movie star, actually, that my boss is representing.”
“How exciting. How long will you be gone?”
“I have no idea. I’m concerned about leaving you,” I add, only I realize now that wasn’t my first thought, which means on some level, I know she’s really better now.
“Don’t be,” she says. “This is good for you and me. I can stay with Marie Anne though if it makes you feel better.”
“You’re going to use this to move in with her, aren’t you?”
“I’m not going to use this to do anything but celebrate your success. When do you leave?”
“Now and by private jet,” I say. “I’m at the apartment. My boss is downstairs waiting.”
“How really, truly exciting. Call me when you can give me details.”
“I will,” I say, shoving a bag over my shoulder. “I love you, mom.”
“I love you too, honey.”
We disconnect, and I gather my briefcase and duffels, and head for the door.
I find Cole still leaning on the car. I hurry toward him and he meets me part of the way and takes my bags. If he notices I don’t have a suitcase, he doesn’t comment. He says nothing, actually, and once he’s set the bags in the open trunk and shut it, I decide I can’t leave things like this.
“Cole—”
“We’re fuck buddies, Lori. Let’s leave it at that.”
He starts to turn away. “If that’s all we are then why are you this pissed at me?” I call after him.
He turns and faces me, his jaw hard, eyes harder. “I’m just giving you what you wanted, sweetheart.” He doesn’t wait for my reply. This time when he starts walking, he doesn’t stop until he’s in the car.
What I want. Only it’s not what I want. In this moment, with Cole walking away from me this time, not me him, I know that I want more with Cole. I know we’ve always been more, which was why I both pushed him away and why I dared to risk so much with him. And I know, I know, that if I don’t speak up now, if I don’t tell him what I feel, it’s over. And I don’t want it to be over. I rush toward the car.