Chapter Fourteen
Pound. Pound. Pound.
I pulled my eyes apart. Dried mascara had matted them together after the massive cryfest. I pushed up off the bed wondering what time it was. It was after ten. It had been less than two hours since I’d come home, and I was still exhausted.
“Okay, I’m coming.” My voice came out hoarse and gravelly.
I wondered who was at the door—only approved people were allowed inside our complex. It was probably the property owner needing to schedule the bug guy. We’d received a note in the mail two days ago to call and schedule, but I don’t believe either of us had.
After pouring out all my emotions onto my pillow, I felt better, more centered. Everything would work out. At least the massive ache in my chest had almost disappeared. Losing my job wasn’t my fault. Dylan’s death wasn’t my fault. I’d done nothing wrong in either case.
Sometimes it took diving off into the dark to see the light.
I opened the door and was shocked to see Garrick.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“Come in.” I cleared my throat. “We’ll talk inside.” I opened the door wide, and Garrick followed me into my apartment. “What have you heard?”
“Pete called my office, saying you’d turned in your security pass. I called your office and was told you were no longer an employee of As You Wish. I’ve been trying to call your cell.”
“Sorry, I turned off my phone. I was fired this morning. I still don’t understand why.”
His hand grazed mine, and I laced my fingers in his. We stared at our joined hands. I needed this, needed him. “Thank you for coming.”
With Garrick here, I felt better about the entire situation. Crazy, I know.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come.”
“I’m glad you did.” The gesture was small but intimate beyond measure at the same time. We walked further into the room, hand in hand. “How did you get in the complex?”
He glanced up, his mouth quirked up on one side. “I own the complex. When you told me your address, I couldn’t believe the odds—this is the only one I own. After I realized, I had the security increased because of the photographers.”
I remembered keeping them at bay that morning. His thoughtfulness only made him more endearing. I caught a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror and shuddered as I attempted to straighten myself up. I looked worse than Sawyer had in front of Kurt. But it didn’t faze Garrick.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?”
With a gentle tug, Garrick released my hand, and I tucked my hair behind my ears. “That night with the photographers, something flipped in Mickey. She became a different person.” I sat on the chair, Garrick on the ottoman, and I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to me. “She’s always been a good boss. I’ve never had any issues with her. She works a lot and lives for her company. But when she got into the limo, Mickey became someone else. Cold and distant. She gave me the impression the two of you were an item, and it went downhill after that. Today, I walked in, and she said we should part ways, so I left. That’s all I know. She wouldn’t give me a reason.”
Garrick rolled up his shirtsleeves to the elbow, showing his corded muscles. Geez, he was sexy with every fluid movement. I finger-combed through my hair a little more to straighten out the mess.
My lips tingled as I thought about the kiss from last night. I’d just lost my job, but all I could think about was when I would get another chance to kiss Garrick.
“What was your relationship like before we met? Before I requested you to handle the gala?” he asked, effectively halting my thoughts from getting naughtier.
As I thought back on the last few days, it was still hard to believe I’d been fired. “Before the meeting, she was fine. Excited to get the account. Nothing was too big to accomplish. Your name wasn’t mentioned. When she went to sign the contract, nothing changed. After you and I talked, I went down to the lobby, where I saw Hastings. I said good night and walked out. You were there for the rest. In the limo, she changed.”
He nodded. “She was upset that I’d declined her dinner invitation after you left.”
I swallowed hard. “Did you ever date Mickey or see her socially?”
“No, the first time I met her was at the limo.”
Good. I hated thinking of them in an intimate setting, perhaps on a balcony having dinner. What happens now? I wasn’t sure what to say.
“How does some lunch sound?”
On cue, my stomach growled. “I think you have your answer. I can whip something up right after I take a shower. I’m a mess.”
“You look beautiful. Let me order something.”
“That sounds good, thank you.” The last few times I’d needed someone, Garrick had been there. “You seem to have an uncanny way of showing up when I’m in trouble.”
“I could say the same about you.”
Before I could ask what he meant, Garrick leaned down and kissed me. I melted against him, relishing the feel of his lips against mine. I moaned, hearing a response from deep within him. All too soon he pulled back. It was short, yet I felt as if he stripped my emotions raw. Then he touched his forehead to mine. “I don’t know what I’m doing. This is new to me.”
“What?”
“The desire to be with someone. Being unable to get her out of my mind.”
Oh my.
My voice was just above a whisper. “I’m right there with you.”
“I’m glad it’s not just me.” The vulnerability I heard in his voice eased my own apprehensions. We were in this together.
Things would be okay. Earlier, I’d told myself it would be, but now I’d begun to believe it. Leaving Garrick in the kitchen, I went to take a shower. The warm water soothed me as I washed all the grime from the day away.
I was dating someone. And I liked him.
Is it wrong?
No, it wasn’t.
Live.
I felt like I was doing that. After toweling off, I dressed in shorts and a T-shirt before joining Garrick. A feast was spread out on the table when I entered the kitchen.
“I ordered in from an Italian place I know. I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”
I giggled. “Wow. A sandwich would have been sufficient. But thank you. This is… a lot of food.”
For a second, Garrick looked at the table and chuckled himself. “I guess it is. I got carried away—wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“I’ll eat anything except anchovies or pickles.”
“Pickles?”
“Yes, it’s a desecration to the cucumber. I can’t even fathom it.”
Handing me a plate, he winked. “Duly noted. No pickles.”
“What foods don’t you like?”
He thought for a second. “Peas.”
“Duly noted,” I said, mocking his proper phrasing. Garrick gave me one of those oh-so-swoony winks.