“I’m sitting,” she managed through clenched teeth.
Enrico took Andrew’s chair from his desk and glided it next to her. “Unfortunately, Marcello in Milan has not been working out the way we had hoped.”
She swallowed. “We?”
“Andrew and I.” Enrico pressed his lips together. “I have sent him back to Milan.”
Andrew was in Italy. He wasn’t even on this continent. “For...” She stumbled. “For how long?”
“This may be good news for you, Gwendolyn.”
“How can any of this be good news for me?” Her eyes shot open wide. Did I just yell at my boss?
“Scusa?” Enrico stared at her with a wrinkle above his nose.
Exhausted, she swiped at the lashes she hadn’t bothered coating with mascara this morning. “I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling well.”
“If Marcello does not work out and we have to let him go, Andrew will have to resume the position.” He studied Gwen’s face. “I have given him until the end of the year.”
The end of the year. She glanced at the puppy calendar tacked to the corkboard next to her desk.
Thanksgiving was the following week. She wouldn’t see Andrew until next year? Or... A choking sensation tickled the back of her throat. Or not at all if this Marcello didn’t get his Italian act together.
She’d been biting her lip so hard she feared she would break the skin. “So why is this good news for me?”
“You have far exceeded our expectations. On Thursday night, Andrew and I had dinner and we spoke about you at length.”
Thursday night. The night before the show. The night before he made love to her. “What did he say exactly?”
“He said the work you have been doing showed him you could handle both yours and his position here in New York, if he were to remain in Milan permanently.”
“On Thursday you asked him to go to Milan?”
“Yes.” Enrico nodded. “It was a last-minute request, but Andrew was happy to accommodate me.”
Gwen’s stomach turned over again. Happy. He was happy to take off.
“You and I will talk more about the new position for you if it becomes necessary,” Enrico said.
“We have not made any final decisions.”
“Enrico, these photos of the show were just dropped off.” Thalia came into the office and placed a thick stack on Gwen’s desk.
“Ah, yes. Thank you, Thalia,” Enrico said.
Gwen couldn’t make eye contact with the girl. They’d been talking about how Salvatore may or may not have expected something for the dress. Then Gwen left with Andrew, who had escaped to Milan. This was why people shouldn’t shit where they eat!
“What are these for, Enrico?” Gwen tapped the photos.
“For today, we would like you to review these proofs and work with the art department to create the media kits for Salvatore’s collection.”
The ‘we’ cut deep into her heart, but Gwen pushed out a strong, “Okay. I’ll get that done today.”
“Then go home if you are still not feeling well.” He stood and smiled, suggesting he had nothing further to say and didn’t know she and Andrew had been intimate after the show.
“I’ll be fine.” Gwen closed the door behind Enrico and spun around the office.
Andrew had to work in Milan until the end of the year. And he knew all of this when he made love to her. Even though he wouldn’t be strolling in any moment, his absence left a gaping void greater than his presence. A part of Andrew lingered, watching her.
She picked up the stack of photos, carelessly letting pictures of model after model slide past her fingers. Then she came across one of herself. The green dress stood out from all the neutral colors in the other pictures. Gwen yanked that photo out. Behind it, a photo of her and Andrew made her heart pound. She studied his face for the truth he’d kept from her. She hoped to see a man hiding a secret and planning a massive getaway.
No, all she saw was adoration. Adorato.
So why didn’t he tell her? Before, or after.
After had been cut dramatically short when the argument started about her medical issues. S he’d finished the fight by storming away. No resolution.
In a burst of frustration, Gwen threw the photos in the air. She wanted to forget that day. The glossy prints rained down around her with flashes of white from the backs fluttering like doves released at a wedding. This felt more like a funeral, though.
Her hands shook, rolling Andrew’s chair back to his side of the office. She slammed the executive swivel so hard into the desk, a small glass container of paper clips fell over. After debating whether or not to leave the mess, she took the high road and cleaned them up. The empty space in front of Andrew’s phone jarred the hell out of her.
The picture of Andrew and Cate was gone.
Gwen braced her body against the desk, staring at where the photo had been. Just the week before, Andrew had moved the frame to make room for art layouts they had been looking at. It had struck Gwen how he had picked it up with no emotion as if it were his stapler.
Yet now that stupid frame, the one Gwen purchased, was in Milan. With Andrew.
IN HIS MILAN OFFICE, Andrew sat with his arms folded and his chin leaning against his wrists as he listened to the rain pounding against the windows.
He stared at the photo of him and Cate, but all he saw was his own reflection in the glass. Cate’s eyes seemed to narrow at him, disapproving what he’d done.
It ate at him how Enrico had to tell Gwen he’d gone to Milan. It ached to think about how she’d take the news. His phone lay on his desk, dark, cold, and dead, only coming back to life since he’d plugged it into his laptop.
Somewhere in the twelve thousand miles he traveled— including the multiple stops he made—his charger had gone missing. He clicked on his laptop to do some work, and the Auto Play icon popped open. He took a breath. Managing his photos from the show was normally delegated to his Milan assistant. Knowing she would sort and upload them to Dropbox, accessible to the entire department for use on the company’s website and other materials, Andrew brought the pictures up to view them first.
With a few more clicks, thumbnails dotted the screen one by one. The size of the files made the process crawl. He passed the monitor several times while getting resituated as the last set of photos materialized.
Gwen’s face appeared in one small box after another. His jaw quivered as they came into focus.
They weren’t just pictures of a colleague at an event, smiling or pointing. Many were ones he’d snapped as he watched her from the shadows. Her face, her hair, her shoulders swallowed up the frames. These photos were all he had of her, now.
Her smile reminded him how much she had wanted him. For most of his adult life, Andrew felt not just wanted, but hunted. Gwen hadn’t made him feel like a prize, though. With her, being desired felt different. Natural.
He’d have trouble shaking the feel of her beneath him, powerful yet supple. Her combination of curves and strength brought out another side of his passion. Wild. Dominant. She took every ounce of what he had to give and gave back just as much. He could be himself with her, and that made her impossible to resist.
Gwen could handle the real Andrew.
Yet, he couldn’t ignore feeling blindsided by the news of her health. While it would have been startling to hear, had she’d been upfront, she’d made it seem like no big deal. Either she’d been careless with her health or she hadn’t intended on opening up to him. Even if they were in a relationship?