“So, no more kissing buddies?” Breslin questions and I can’t help but detect a note of skepticism in her voice.
“Yup.” I begin setting up some ads for the new quadruple x vibrator. “There will be no more of that.”
“Kit?”
“Yes?”
“Did something happen?”
I hate lying to her, but talking about it will only make the woeful feeling gnawing in the pit of my stomach worse. “Nope. We just decided doing that stuff was…complicating things. Blurring the lines.” I wave a hand. “Making everything murky.”
“Right.”
She starts to follow that up with something else, but I cut her off.
“Sorry, B. Gotta go. Juan is having an issue with his computer and I’m pretty sure he just broke the copy machine.”
Juan raises an eyebrow as I hang up the phone.
“Guess it’s not just me you’re dodging,” he murmurs.
I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s only nine-thirty, so my lunch break isn’t for another three hours, but I really need to clear my head.
“I’m starving.” I get up from my desk. “There are these amazing breakfast sandwiches on the upper west side.”
“That’s at least forty minutes away, isn’t it?”
Exactly.
“I’ll drive fast.” I grab my keys and purse off my desk. “If Jess asks where I am, cover for me.”
“Fine, but you owe me.”
“I’ll buy you two sandwiches,” I tell him as I exit my office.
And bump right into Amber.
Crap on a cracker.
Her face lights up when she sees me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I hold up my keys. “Sorry, can’t talk. I have to go run a very important errand.”
She frowns. “Oh, okay. I have to go back in and shoot a scene, but maybe we can talk later?”
Since I can’t think of any excuse not to, I concede. “Sure.”
Brushing past her, I make my way to the elevator. As I press the button for the parking garage, I wonder if I should call Preston to check up on how the renovations my Nanna insisted on having done to my parents’ house are coming along.
However, if I do that, I’ll have to deal with him being extra grumpy because of the situation with his brother.
Which isn’t fair because it’s not like I had anything to do with their decision. I was just as blindsided as he was by the news.
Gritting my teeth, I step out of the elevator and amble in the direction of my car.
Swear he can be so damn stub—
White-hot pain permeates the back of my head, stealing the strength from my knees and the breath from my lungs…
And then everything goes black.
Chapter 7
Preston
I watch four men carry cedar planks through the front door. “What are those for?”
Paying me no mind, they make their way down the stairs leading to the basement.
Assholes.
Kit said she had no problem with them revamping the exercise room downstairs, but they don’t need wood to replace a few machines.
I follow behind them.
“One of you better answer me. Now.”
The one in charge lets out an irritated sigh. “The owner wants us to build a sauna down here.”
I’m not opposed to the idea, but Kit might be. “I don’t recall discussing this.”
“That’s because you’re not the owner.” The guy shrugs. “Look, man. If you have a problem with the sauna, I suggest you take it up with the woman who’s paying us to do our job.”
I’d rather swallow battery acid than deal with that old bat. Or her jack-off sidekick.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone. “Don’t do a damn thing until I call my wife.”
The men groan as they drop their supplies on the floor, no doubt wondering where the fuck my balls are.
Tough shit. I know how important this house is to Kit, and I made her a promise that I’d look after the renovations. These chumps can wait a few goddamn minutes.
She picks up after the fourth ring. “They want to build a sau—”
“Hello,” a male voice answers.
“Who the hell is this?”
“My name is Peter. I’m an EMT. I believe we have your wife in the ambulance.” There’s a short pause. “According to her driver’s license, her name is Kit Bishop? Is that correct? And are you her husband, or is there someone else I should contact?”
My brain scrambles as I process his words.
“Yes, that’s her name and yes, I’m her husband. What happened to her?”
And why the fuck are they asking me these questions instead of Kit?
“We’re not sure. A security guard found her unconscious in a parking garage and called 911. Does your wife have any medical conditions? Is she a drug addict or—”
“No,” I growl, the heavy feeling in my chest growing worse with every passing second. “What hospital are you taking her to?”
“Presbyterian.”
“I’m on my way,” I tell him before I hang up.
I’m about to call a cab, but then I realize that will take too long. The drive from here to New York is already two hours, and I can’t afford to waste any more time.
I need to get to her.
But I don’t know how I can…because I don’t have a car.
Fuck.
“I have to make a quick run to the store because we forgot something,” a voice calls out behind me.
That’s when I remember there’s a work van sitting in the driveway.
“Give me your keys.”
The guy looks at me like I’m crazy. “What? No.”
I shove him against the wall and wrap my hand around his throat. “I wasn’t asking. Either hand over your motherfucking keys or never take another breath again. Choice is yours.”
His eyes go wide as I tighten my hold. I can tell he wants to protest, but he’s in no position to.
“They’re in my pocket,” he chokes out.
I swiftly fetch them out and release him.
“You’re fucking crazy,” he coughs as I run out the front door.
He’s right. I am crazy.
Especially when it comes to her.
Chapter 8
Kit
“Good news is the CT scan showed no permanent damage,” a doctor informs me. “I’m still waiting on a few more lab results, but as long as those come back normal, I’m inclined to say you probably just have a mild concussion.”
“Oh, thank God,” Juan says beside me, dabbing his eyes with a tissue.
With the way he flounced in here crying and carrying on after I called him, you’d think it was him that got hit over the head instead of me.
“Does that mean I’m free to go soon?”
The doctor mulls this over for a bit before answering. “I’d really like to keep you for observation.”
Nuh-uh. Not happening.
“I feel fine, doc,” I assure him, because the last thing I want to do is stay here so they can poke and prod around some more. Or worse, leave me by my lonesome for hours and then charge me up the ass for my extended visit.