Page 84 of Playboy Boss

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Life was good. After a great meeting with Jacob Moreau, the contract to purchase basically signed, Konrad was ready to get back to Houston. He’d told Dallas he intended to bring a surprise guest to guys’ nights. Scottie and his relationship would be in the open. To his circle at least, which was the only thing that mattered to him.

The job situation would have to be handled with delicate precision. Scottie would get a permanent job and leave on her own accord, hopefully in no more than two weeks. No one would have to know the real reason. Then, when enough time had passed, he’d tell the whole world she was his.

These thoughts exhilarated him. This plan he’d thought up made him step harder on the gas pedal. He needed to get to her. Fast.

He parked in his prime parking spot and flipped down the visor to take a look at himself. He met his own gaze. Blue and intense. His straight nose. Had he always looked so much like his mother? The conversation he’d had with Scottie about his mother was hard. That part of his life had always been hidden. No one really knew what had happened with her—the overdose, the suicide. The neglectful husband and father who saw family as a burden. He’d avoided facing the truth because it had always been too painful.

He stared harder into his eyes. With Scottie, he could face himself. Finally. And she wouldn’t run away. After hearing about his mother and still not running away … she was the real deal. And knowing who he was before, the player. The noncommittal guy who kept his distance because being close was scary. Nothing he could tell her would make her leave him. Abandon him. He couldn’t survive her abandonment, not where his heart was concerned.

He pulled out his phone, a smile on his face. God, he loved her.

Me: I’m coming for you. I hope you’re ready for me.

He laughed at his text. She was his, bottom line. And after today, his closest friends, who were his only family, would know about her. Pride filled him. Scottie was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He got out of his car, half wondering why he’d not received a text back. He glanced at his Richard Mille watch. Only half past four. She should be at her cube. He frowned, turning to face the VIP parking spot he’d given her. And…

No car. Scottie wasn’t there.

His heart raced and so did he as he moved quickly inside the building and into the lift. Several people stopped to chat with him. A woman who’d been eyeing him since her company leased a suite from Korr Properties tried to chat him up. But, he couldn’t think straight.

In the Korr Properties suite, he went to Scottie’s cube. Empty. Where the hell was she? He walked back to reception. Susan had been flipping through a magazine. The phones usually died down around that time.

“Konrad!” She was surprised. “You look … scared.”

“Where’s Scottie?” he demanded, making her jump.

“Uhh … I … she left this morning.” Her eyes were wide, scared. “Said she didn’t feel well. I called the temp agency, and they offered to send someone for today. I told them no since you were out. Was that okay?”

“I didn’t know she was ill.” He pulled his cell phone out again from his suit jacket pocket and called her. Still, no response.

Konrad calmed some though. If she was ill, then she must be sleeping. Something felt wrong. Without responding to Susan, he pivoted on his heels and remerged into the suite. With unsteady hands, he poured himself a glass of scotch. He drained it and quickly poured himself another.

One of his accountants stood at his door. He shook his head. “Not now.”

She frowned. “But I—”

“I said not now.” He opened his door, letting it close behind him.

His heart raced a thousand beats per second. Scanning his office, he felt cold. Weird, since it had been the end-of-summer heat. He usually felt warm in the office.

Walking to his mini bar, he noticed his dry cleaning was hanging on the garment rack he kept for extra dress shirts. Nothing seemed unusual there.

His phone vibrating in his pocket made him jump. Elation took him. Scottie! He pulled the phone from his pocket again. Not Scottie.

Fabian P: Heard you’re bringing a guest to guys’ night? Spill it, Korr.

Fuck! He put the phone on the bar, scrubbing his face. God, he needed to calm down. He should sit. Get his bearings. Scottie had to be home in bed. Where else could she possibly be?

As he walked to his desk, he saw his chair had been pushed under the desk. He yanked it out from under the desk and saw the hookup list he’d written taped to the seat. Oh, God, no. His heart stopped. The glass of scotch fell from his grip, crashing to the floor and shattering.

No. No. No. No.

He snatched the list from the chair, lifting it to his eye line. Scottie had seen it. Scottie had found this. She’d read it. She knew who Temp S.R. was. The worse thing that could have happened, happened.

He turned toward the dry cleaning hanging on the rack. Could she have found the napkin in the dry cleaning? Konrad thought the napkin was long gone—not waiting in the shadows for him to be happy, only to pounce and ruin his life.

If Scottie believed this list, believed she was just another on a list, she would never forgive him. He crushed the napkin in his palm. Weren’t they past that? For the first time in his life, he wanted to cry. He wanted to weep for tasting happiness and then maybe losing it.

What could he do to correct this? In the only way Konrad knew how to make things better, he stormed out of his office, leaving everyone in his wake to stare, and jumped in his car. First stop, Space City Pawn.

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