“Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“You too.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will, just sitting here waiting for Mr. Perfect to crash into my life.”
I laugh a little. “And what warrants a man perfect, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She smiles down at her drink, breathing in. “The kind of man whose world revolves around me. The kind who is so utterly devoted, I’d forget who I am without him.” She looks up at me, and I stare at her, a little dazed. “And when he kisses me, nothing else exists. Not much to ask, is it? Just good, old-fashioned love. The pure, rare kind.”
Leave, Ty. Leave now. “Rare is the key word there, Lainey,” I say, and her soft smile fades. “I saw it in my parents’ relationship, though, so I hope you find it, too.” I’ve never met a woman who has worn her heart on her sleeve so unapologetically. Whether it’s appropriate or not is beside the point. And, frighteningly, I’ve never met a woman who has reeled off her desire for the one thing in this world I would possibly unlock my heart for; a love like my parents had.
I turn and walk away, ignoring the black-haired beauty who is off her stool and heading my way, my pace picking up. For the first time in . . . I can’t even remember, I’m not interested. Not in her, anyway.
THE NEXT MORNING, I SWIM an extra ten lengths. And I polish my shoes extra shiny. And I fasten the knot of my tie with extra precision. And I trim my stubble extra carefully. And double-check my hair. Twice. And, of course, I do all of this because it’s what I do every morning. With this much care and effort.
Herb tips his hat like every other normal morning as I pass his desk in the foyer, glancing down at his watch. “Early this morning, Mr. Christianson.”
“I have a long day,” I call, arriving at the driveway. But Egor isn’t waiting with my car, like normal. I turn and see Herb on the phone.
“He’s on his way,” he says as I check the time. I can’t moan. I’m half an hour earlier than every other day of my working life.
In only a few minutes, Egor is pulling up to the curb. “Sorry, Mr. Christianson,” he says, holding the door open for me. “The key cabinet in the garages was playing games. And, well, you’re early.”
I don’t acknowledge his observation and jump in. “No problem, Egor. Did you get the tickets?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Very kind of you.”
“Good. Enjoy.” I pull the door shut and get on my way, and I make it to my office and park before my phone rings. “Mother,” I greet as I get into the elevator.
“Ty, darling, did you RSVP to your cousin’s wedding invitation?”
“I will.” I press the button for the thirteenth floor and have a quick check of my reflection, running a hand through my waves and slapping a cheek.
“Good. D—” She cuts off, and I glance at my phone to see the service has dropped.
“Damn. Mum? Mum, can you hear me?”
“There you are,” she shrieks, making me pull my mobile away from my ear. “I was saying not to forget.”
“I’ll have Gina do it this morning.”
“I don’t know what you’d do without that woman.”
“Neither do I.” The doors of the lift slide open and I frown, looking for that woman. Then I remember; I’m early. I make tracks to the kitchen, prepared to make my own coffee. “I’ll call you later.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll call you in the morning, as usual.”
“Bye, Mother.” I hang up as I land in the kitchen, being confronted with the elaborate coffee machine. I stare at it and the millions of buttons on the front. “Right,” I say, dropping my briefcase and grabbing a mug from the stand to the side. It can’t be that difficult. I place my cup under the spout and scan the various selections of coffee, spotting my preferred choice. I press the button labelled Americano and wait. And wait. And wait some more. “Come on,” I mutter, pressing it again. Nothing. Growling under my breath, I start scanning for any obvious signs for why the machine isn’t spitting out my morning hit of caffeine, noting there are no lights lit up. “Ah,” I search for the on/off button and flick it on, smiling, a bit too proud of myself. Then I make my selection again. And get spat at with coffee. “No.” I jump back, out of the firing line of the spray. “No, no, no.” My panicking hands fumble for the off switch again, unable to avoid the coffee being fired at me. “Motherfucker.” I look down at my chest, finding I’m drenched in shitty brown liquid. “Fucking great,” I rant, snatching up my case from the floor and stalking out of the kitchen. No fucking coffee, and now I look a state.
Chucking my case on the couch in my office, I yank my jacket off and throw it down, tugging at my tie. “Perfect fucking start to my day.” I drop into my chair and unbutton my shirt, shrugging it off and dumping it on my desk.
The door to my office opens and Gina appears, looking every bit as stunned as she should. I’m here before she is, and I’m half-naked at my desk. “What’s going on?” She scans my office. I know she’s looking for a woman.
“Thought I’d come in early.”
“Naked?” She wanders in, giving me suspicious eyes.
“I had an accident with the coffee machine. What the fuck is wrong with that thing?”
“It’s temperamental.”
“No shit.”
“A bit like you this morning. No lay last night?”
My eyes narrow, and I turn to my computer, keeping my mouth shut.
“Oh my God, you didn’t get laid last night.” She’s in the chair opposite my desk in a second, looking at me, shocked. I guess she should be. “And now you’re super grouchy.”
“I’m not grouchy,” I snap, very grouchily.
She recoils, eyebrows high. “Okay.”
“I’m not grouchy,” I repeat, this time calmly. “I have a long day, and I needed to be in early.” I open my emails and start scanning through, deleting the obvious ones—the ones from conquests.
“Okay.” She accepts easily, though I know my assistant, and I know she knows I’m talking bollocks. “I’ll get your coffee.” Gina gets up, collecting my shirt and tie as she does before wandering over to my couch and gathering up my coffee-stained suit jacket. “I’ll send these to the cleaners.”
“Thank you.”
“You have spare shirts in your bathroom.”
On a tired sigh, I get up and make tracks to the bathroom. Shirts. Yes, I have lots of shirts, but no fucking jackets or ties. “Day gets worse.” I grab one and shrug it on, buttoning it up as I follow my feet back to my desk. So, I’m doing casual today. It won’t hurt. “All that time wasted this morning.”
“What?”
I look up and find Gina with my coffee. “Nothing.” I accept gratefully. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“You tell me, since you’re here early for your long day.”
“Gina,” I breathe tiredly, and her lips straighten, holding back her grin.
“You have a meeting with Sal and Pyra Lingerie at ten.”