Because I hadn’t found a good enough reason to get over myself.
The expense would make things tight for the rest of the year, but I didn’t mind keeping close to home to give Zara something she needed. One thing I’d learned from my past mistakes was to do what I could for the people I cared about when I could. People I loved. That stopped me in my tracks three tables away from where the two of them were sitting and waiting for me.
I loved her. The prickly, surly, caring, infuriating, driven, talented, and beautiful woman who hated me.
Sitting back down in stunned silence, I tried to keep up with their conversation. We ordered dessert. Kathleen gushed about all her ideas for next year. The job was ours to lose. She also hinted at some big news that would change things for the better for us, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Zara.
Outside, I draped my arm over her shoulder and we waved to Kathleen when she stepped into her taxi. The second the car disappeared from view, Zara shrugged my arm off her shoulder.
“I’ll email you the draft of the presentation I have so far. Let me know your notes and I’ll incorporate them.”
“We can work on it together, Gingersnap.”
She flinched like that word hurt her now. “No, we can’t. Bye, Leo.” She kept her gaze down, taking a half-step before committing to her escape.
My stomach pitched and knotted.
I stood outside the restaurant long after she was gone, trapped in my own head, trying to figure out what the hell I’d do if she couldn’t love me back.
35
Zara
I stared out my office window. At least I had a view, even if another building obstructed eighty percent of it. The lunch with Leo had been a mistake for sure, but he’d tried to use Kathleen against me. How was I supposed to push forward with everything when I couldn’t stop thinking about him? And while I was mooning over him, he was having conversations with Kathleen behind my back.
A voice broke into the back and forth in my head. “Zara, can I see you in my office?”
I jumped up from my chair.
Bill stood in the doorway. He never came to my office, he always sent Valerie to do his fetching. “Now.”
I scrambled, grabbing a notepad and pen off my desk. “Of course.”
He was gone before I stood back up.
Rushing down the hallway, I stepped into his office as he sat in his chair.
“Things went well with Winthorpe.”
“Yes, Bill. They’re going well. Kathleen came by today for lunch to discuss how much everyone enjoyed themselves.”
His head dipped slightly. “And Stark? Have you maneuvered your way into a more favorable position?”
“About that.” I stepped forward with my notepad crushed against my chest. “We’re working on a pitch to win more business than what Winthorpe is currently offering. With the relationship we’re building with Kathleen and an increased roster of events, it would be possible for both companies to work together to maximize profits.”
“Are you sure I don’t need to assign someone else to help?” He wrapped his fingers around his chin.
And steal my commission? “I have it handled. One hundred percent.”
“Don’t let me down, Zara.”
“I won’t. I promise.” Backing out of his office, I barely kept myself from whacking my notebook against my head. Why the hell had I done that? Under-promise and over-deliver had always been my motto, and here I was running my mouth to Bill about how I had this all locked down. Screwed, that’s exactly what I was.
My day went too quickly after lunch, the hurtling rollercoaster setting me down in my apartment alone. Stella’s words had rung in my ears the whole time Leo and I were sitting beside one another—pretending to be together, but never feeling further apart. When I’d shut down my computer and left, all the lights were off in the office. The last one to leave once again, only this time it felt way too early.
In the lobby, the slurred shout of my name made me wish I’d stayed upstairs longer, at least until she could’ve been poured into her taxi after the booze had been put on the company tab. The bar and grill connected to the lobby was quick and easy for business lunches and dinners for most people in the building. For Valerie, it was a convenient spot to get blitzed Monday through Friday without spending a dime.
“Leo Wilder’s your fiancé?”
I tucked my hand inside my coat. Why hadn’t I taken off the ring? “It’s late, Valerie, and I’d like to go home.”
“You badger my dad into giving you a raise and making you a full-time planner and you’re getting married to a pro football player.” She sipped from her martini glass, stumbling with each step.
“He’s retired. Can I go now?” I bit the inside of my cheek. Couldn’t one of her sloppy friends come out here and get her to buy them another round?
My escape was blocked when she got in front of me, more gin splattering on the floor between us, each of my steps matched by a wobbly one of her own.
“You think you’re so much better than me.”
I knew I was. Not because she worked for her dad’s company—plenty of people did—but because she lorded it over everyone and coasted on the hard work other people put in. Screwing others wasn’t a game I played even though I’d been on the receiving end multiple times—and not the pleasurable kind. I bit down so hard I tasted blood in my mouth.
“Go back to the bar.” I stared straight ahead, which only seemed to infuriate her more. People like her always wanted to provoke a reaction so they could play the victim. Fight or flight isn’t the only coping mechanism when facing down a threat. Scientists have also discovered freeze as a natural reaction like a deer in your headlights in the middle of a quiet country road at night. But I couldn’t blame this on instinct. This was me curling up into ball letting a drunk bear with claws out bat me around until they got bored. Survival took on a different form when the predator had a direct line to the guy writing my paychecks.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m running things here.”
A man with an earpiece walked out of the bar toward us. “Ma’am, we need you to step back into the restaurant.”
I took the momentary distraction to make my escape. But it didn’t stop is-this-Vegas Valerie from spewing even more vileness before being escorted back inside with her completely empty martini glass.
Work tomorrow would be a barrel of laughs. I gave it fifty-fifty odds that she remembered any of it. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d forgotten a conversation with me.
I opened the door to my apartment. My keys fell from my hand. The jingling clink was the only sound other than my gasp. It wasn’t dark and dim inside. There was light. Lamps, a coffee table, and a sofa. I stepped inside, covering my mouth with both hands.
In the center of a coffee table, there was a piece of paper with a gift card taped in the inside.
“Leo ordered it.”
I jumped, yelping, and spun around.
Stella stood in my doorway behind me. “His name was all over the paperwork.”
“He did this?” The room had been transformed. Earth tones with pops of color. It radiated warmth, comfort, relaxation and an unworried lifestyle I’d yet to taste—but here I felt as though I lived it. Some things I wouldn’t have chosen for myself, but for him to do this for me? It was perfect.