I smiled. It was good to hang out with another girl. Not that Cary couldn’t also be appreciative of a hot guy, but nothing beat girl talk. “You won’t hear me complaining.”
“Lucky bitch.” Bumping shoulders with me to show she was teasing, she said, “How about that roommate of yours? From the photos I saw, he’s gorgeous, too. Is he single? Wanna hook me up?”
Turning my head quickly, I hid a wince. I’d learned the hard way never to set up an acquaintance or friend with Cary. He was so easy to love, which led to a lot of broken hearts because he couldn’t love back the same way. The moment things started going too well, Cary sabotaged them. “I don’t know if he’s single or not. Things are . . . complicated in his life at the moment.”
“Well, if the opportunity presents itself, I’m certainly not opposed. Just sayin’. You like tacos?”
“Love ’em.”
“I know a great place a couple blocks up. Come on.”
* * *
Things were going well in my world as Megumi and I headed back from lunch. Forty minutes of gossip, guy-ogling, and three awesome carne asada tacos later, I was feeling pretty good. And we were returning to work a little over ten minutes early, which I was glad for since I hadn’t been the most punctual employee lately, even though Mark never complained.
The city was thrumming around us, taxis and people surging through the growing heat and humidity as they crammed what they could into the insufficient hours of the day. I people-watched shamelessly, my eyes skimming over everyone and everything.
Men in business suits walked alongside women in flowing skirts and flip-flops. Ladies in haute couture and five-hundred-dollar shoes teetered past steaming hot dog vendor carts and shouting hawkers. The eclectic mix of New York was heaven to me, stirring an excitement that made me feel more vibrant here than anyplace else I’d ever lived.
We were stopped by a traffic light directly across from the Crossfire, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the black Bentley sitting in front of it. Gideon must’ve just gotten back from lunch. I couldn’t help but think about him sitting in his car on the day we’d met, watching me as I took in the imposing beauty of his Crossfire Building. It made me tingly just thinking about it—
Suddenly, I went cold.
Because a striking brunette breezed out of the revolving doors just then and paused, giving me a good, long look at her—Gideon’s ideal, whether he’d been aware of it or not. A woman I’d witnessed him fixate on the moment he’d seen her in the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. A woman whose poise and hold over Gideon brought out all my worst insecurities.
Corinne Giroux looked like a breath of fresh air in a cream-colored sheath dress and cherry red heels. She ran a hand over her waist-length dark hair, which wasn’t quite as sleek as it’d appeared last night when I’d met her. In fact, it looked a little disheveled. And her fingers were rubbing at her mouth, wiping along the outline of her lips.
I pulled my smartphone out, activated the camera, and snapped a picture. With the proximity of the zoom, I could see why she was fussing with her lipstick—it was smeared. No, more like mashed. As if from a passionate kiss.
The light changed. Megumi and I moved with the flow, closing the distance between me and the woman who’d once had Gideon’s promise to marry her. Angus stepped out of the Bentley and came around, speaking to her briefly before opening the back door for her. The feeling of betrayal—Angus’s and Gideon’s—was so fierce, I couldn’t catch my breath. I swayed on my feet.
“Hey.” Megumi caught my arm to steady me. “And we only had virgin margaritas, lightweight!”
I watched Corinne’s willowy body slide into the back of Gideon’s car with practiced grace. My fists clenched as fury surged through me. Through the haze of my angry tears, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and disappeared.
Chapter 3
When Megumi and I stepped into an elevator, I hit the button for the top floor.
“I’ll be back in five minutes, if anyone asks,” I told her, as she stepped off at Waters Field & Leaman.
“Give him a kiss for me, will you?” she said, playfully fanning herself. “Makes me hot just thinking about living vicariously through you.”
I managed a smile before the doors closed and the car continued its ascent. When it reached the end of the line, I exited into a tastefully ornate and undeniably masculine entrance foyer. Smoky glass security doors were sandblasted with CROSS INDUSTRIES and softened by hanging baskets of ferns and lilies.
Gideon’s redheaded receptionist was unusually cooperative and buzzed me in before I reached the door. Then she grinned at me in a way that got my back up. I’d always gotten the impression she didn’t like me, so I didn’t trust that smile for a minute. It made me twitchy. Still, I waved and said hello, because I wasn’t a catty bitch—unless I was given good reason to be.
I took the long hallway that led to Gideon, stopping at a large secondary reception area where his secretary, Scott, manned the desk.
Scott stood as I approached. “Hello, Eva,” he greeted me, reaching for his phone. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
The glass wall that separated Gideon’s office from the rest of the floor was usually crystal clear but could be made opaque with the push of a button. It was frosted now, which increased my uneasiness. “Is he alone?”
“Yes, but—”
Whatever else he said was lost as I pushed through the glass door and into Gideon’s domain. It was a massive space, with three distinct seating areas, each larger than my boss Mark’s entire office. In contrast to the elegant warmth of Gideon’s apartment, his office was decorated in a cool palette of black, gray, and white broken only by the jewel-toned crystal decanters that decorated the wall behind a bar.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city on two sides. The one solid wall opposite the immense desk was covered in flat screens streaming news channels from around the world.
My gaze swept the room and caught on the throw pillow that had been carelessly knocked to the floor. Beside it were indents in the area rug that betrayed where the couch feet were usually planted. The piece of furniture had, apparently, been bumped askew by a few inches.
My heart rate sped up and my palms grew damp. That awful anxiety I’d felt earlier intensified.
I had just noticed the open door to the washroom when Gideon stepped into view, stealing my breath with the beauty of his exposed torso. His hair was damp, as if from a recent shower, and his neck and upper chest were still flushed, as it became when he exerted himself physically.
He froze when he saw me, his gaze darkening for an instant before his perfect, implacable mask slid effortlessly into place.
“It’s not a good time, Eva,” he said, shrugging into a dress shirt he’d had draped over the back of a bar stool . . . a different shirt from the one he’d been wearing earlier that morning. “I’m running late to an appointment.”
I gripped my purse tightly. Seeing him so intimately brought home how badly I wanted him. I loved him insanely, needed him like I needed to breathe . . . which only made it easier for me to understand how Magdalene and Corinne felt, and to relate to any lengths they might go to in trying to lure him away from me. “Why are you half dressed?”