Authors: Cari Quinn
She wasn’t completely sure she was right—part of the problem
with operating on little to no actual facts—but from the look on Diana’s face
as she spared her a glance, she’d guessed correctly.
The goddamn bastard.
“How do you know we slept together?” Diana asked, her voice
much quieter than Kelly expected.
“He told me.”
“He told you.”
“Is there an echo in here or what?
Yes, he told me.” That’s
what he’d said, right?
How could she have misheard that one?
Diana finally set down her cloth and her spray bottle and
faced Kelly squarely.
“We didn’t sleep together, Kelly.
I don’t know why he
told you we did, but maybe he wanted some space.” She shrugged and picked at
her flawless manicure, suddenly seeming a hell of a lot less confident.
“Are we
done now?”
Kelly gripped her elbows.
“And you expect me to believe you
over him?”
All at once his words came back to her.
Another woman
invited me into her bed tonight, Kelly.
And I accepted.
“I don’t care what you believe.
I’m just telling you the
truth.” Her lips curved in the shadow of a smile.
“But before you canonize him,
we had a…moment, let’s say.
One where one or both of us was missing some vital
pieces of clothing.”
“I’m sure you’ve been in that position often,” Kelly
replied.
“Both the lacking clothes and being left before you could get them
back on.”
“This conversation’s over.“ Diana resumed making her list on
her whiteboard.
“In case you didn’t hear my announcement that I’m stepping back
into the company, I’m now your boss.
And pretty soon you’re going to be
skirting the line of insubordination.”
“Won’t be the first time,” Kelly said under her breath.
“Leave that door open,” Diana said, clearly assuming their
conversation was finished.
Kelly stared at Diana’s trim ankles, wrapped in thin straps
of buttery leather.
She had flawless skin and long, lustrous brown hair that belonged
in a shampoo commercial.
What was it like to be that sort of woman?
To be
pretty and perfect and so certain of herself, even if the mask had dropped
briefly.
“Did you love him?”
“What?” Irritation laced the question.
“Spencer.
Did you love him?”
Do you still love him?
Does
he love you?
Is that why there’s no room for me?
Diana laughed softly.
“Who can say what love is?
It’s such a
fluid thing.
Here today, gone tomorrow.”
Her blithe answer brought tears to Kelly’s eyes.
As if it
were that simple for her.
“For you, maybe.
For some of us it doesn’t work that
way.”
When Kelly’s voice cracked, Diana glanced at her in alarm.
“Then I’m truly sorry for you.”
Kelly wiped her eyes.
Her parents might’ve been unreliable,
but the one thing they’d taught her was the importance of love.
She wouldn’t
allow herself to turn off that side of her nature, as much as it hurt right
now.
She loved.
She wanted to be loved in return.
And one day,
she would be.
“Don’t be.
I’m better off.”
“If you say so.
I have a lot to get done, Kelly.”
“Why aren’t you going to the new Virginia store?
Since
you’re so eager to take over, wouldn’t it make the most sense to start there
fresh?”
“Not that I owe you any answers, but Spencer’s handling
Virginia.
He’ll be there for the next year, and in the meantime, I’ll be here.”
Kelly swallowed thickly.
“What do you mean, he’ll be there?”
“He’s moving to Virginia, as was planned.
God, do you always
talk this much?”
As was planned.
That he hadn’t told her shouldn’t matter anymore.
They’d
already broken up, if they’d ever been together.
But it was just one betrayal
too many.
What was she going to do?
Wait until Spencer came back from
Virginia, then slink around trying to pretend she didn’t care what was going on
between him and Diana?
Deny she was dying inside every time she looked at him?
Maybe she could turn off her feelings if she tried hard enough.
In the
meantime, every day would be hell.
She’d always look at him and Diana and
wonder.
Maybe he would never come back.
He’d stay in Virginia and
then she’d be left to wander past his office, remembering the day she’d come in
on him and Leigh.
She’d never really gotten the story there either.
Maybe Leigh
was next on his list.
And if she didn’t think of that day, she’d remember working
with him all night long.
His mouth on her breasts, his face in her hands.
But
worst of all, she’d remember the night he’d taken her love and stomped on it
before she’d even had the nerve to offer it to him.
Or she could cut her losses.
She’d remember regardless but at least she could get away
from this place and not have to see him in every corner.
She could start moving
on.
Kelly reached up and unclipped her nametag, shocked that her
hand could be rock steady when she was about to do the craziest thing she’d
ever done.
But it was also the most sane.
“I’m leaving,” she said quietly, relieved her eyes were dry.
She wouldn’t cry anymore.
“Good.
Leave the door open.”
“I mean I’m leaving permanently.” When Diana turned, Kelly
set the badge on the conference table where she and Spencer had stared at each
other so heatedly.
A week ago.
Just a week.
A lifetime.
Diana shrugged as if she didn’t care one way or another.
Why
should she?
Kelly was just another cog in her parents’ wheel.
“Your choice.”
“Yes.
My choice.” For once she wasn’t going to be afraid.
She was going to be just fine without the store.
Without Spencer.
She had two
legs and she was going to stand on them.
On her way out, she shut the door.
* * * * *
Spencer picked up his cell, saw the readout and blew out a
breath.
It was late, and he’d stupidly hoped Kelly was calling.
Of course not.
“What do you want, Diana?”
“Your girlfriend quit,” she said shortly, sounding about as
pleased to talk to him as he was to talk to her.
After last night, he couldn’t claim to be surprised.
The
scene between them had been even bloodier than the one he’d endured with Kelly.
Less emotionally scarring, definitely.
But the humiliation factor had been
sky-high.
On both sides.
“Excuse me?”
“Your girlfriend.
The one who had you so twisted up last
night.
Surely you haven’t forgotten her so soon.”
He hadn’t given her Kelly’s name.
But Diana had probably
done some snooping around and put things together.
Then he realized what else
she’d said.
“What do you mean she quit?”
“She said she was leaving, set down her badge and punched
out.”
“Why?”
“Oh I don’t know.
Wild guess is she’s not too happy with
you.
She gave me some speech about not being afraid to love, yadda, yadda.”
He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose.
He’d
rather be anywhere right now but this crappy hotel room in Virginia.
“Did you
confront her?”
“Of course not.
She’s my employee.
Or she was.
No, she
confronted me, full of righteous indignation.
Why did you tell her you slept
with me?
Trying to save your rep?”
He laughed drily.
“After last night, I’m thinking my rep’s
pretty much destroyed.
Have you taken an ad out somewhere yet?”
A long pause.
“Look, let’s just forget it.
I made a deal
with you.
You wanted your damn store, you have it.” She didn’t say anything
more before she hung up.
Spencer threw his phone across the bed and lay back against
the pillows.
By now, she had to have received his delivery.
But she hadn’t
called.
She probably wanted a clean break from both him and the store.
He
couldn’t say he blamed her.
But how could she walk away from the thing she loved most in
the world?
Whatever the reasons, that had to kill her.
He stared at his cell,
needing to hear her voice.
If he could reassure her somehow, if there was just
a way they could be friends even if they weren’t lovers anymore.
If only he could chop off both his arms and not miss them.
Talking to her again would be selfish.
But as hard as seeing
her again would be, knowing he never would was a hundred times worse.
He
couldn’t imagine walking into The Book Nook and not finding her there.
The mere
thought of it made his chest hurt.
He just needed to know she was okay.
That was all.
If she
sounded all right, he’d say happy birthday and hang up.
And he’d find a way to
move on.
Eventually.
* * * * *
Later that evening, Kelly came home to a note that she’d
missed a floral delivery.
But no worries, she could find it in Arthur the
super’s office.
Sometimes being sort of friendly with the super was a mixed
blessing.
She had no interest in those flowers.
They couldn’t be from who she
wanted them to be from so why bother even going to get them?
She went downstairs to collect them anyway, figuring if
someone had gone to the time and expense, she’d at least bring them up to her
apartment.
But when she saw the bouquet of white daisies—not painted, just pure
white and yellow blooms—the sight made her throat tighten.
Whoever had sent her those flowers knew her pretty damn
well.
Alana.
It had to be.
Or maybe Nicky.
They’d spent a couple
hours commiserating over the past week and he’d slipped right back into her
life as if he’d never left.
They’d gone to dinner and a movie tonight, and he’d
made her laugh when she’d figured that was pretty much a lost cause.
Even if she didn’t have love, she had wonderful friends.
And
that meant the world.
Kelly carried the box up to her apartment, choosing to take
the stairs rather than the elevator.
Anything to delay opening the tiny white
card.
Was it wrong she wanted to pretend for a while she had someone in her
life?
A boyfriend, a lover.
Whatever name she called him, she needed the
illusion for a bit longer.
She set the daisies down in the front hall and walked away
to wash her hands.
Then she drank a glass of soda and stared at the clock.
Came
back, circled them.
God, they were gorgeous.
There had to be two dozen of them,
each flower more perfect than the last.
And deluding herself wouldn’t help anything.
She pulled out the card and thumbed it open.
These flowers aren’t half as beautiful as you.
Happy
birthday.
Sucking in a breath, she dropped the card as if it had
caught fire.
Of course it was unsigned.
Maybe Alana wanted her to think Spencer
still cared.
That was a best friendly thing to do, wasn’t it?
A quick phone call ascertained that no, Alana had not
pretended to be her make-believe boyfriend for the day.
Nor had Nicky.
Or her
parents.
Or anyone else she could call within the tri-state area.
After she’d exhausted all the possibilities, she sat down on
the floor with the phone in her lap.
She should call him.
Just say thanks and
that was it.
Easy, breezy, buh-bye.
If she didn’t start bawling, she’d be in business.
She dialed his cell and got voicemail.
Naturally.
He’d be
working.
As always.
She left the quickest, most inflectionless message she
could then hung up and closed her eyes.