Page 74 of The Billionaire's Beauty

“Well, that only leaves option three,” Damon says, nailing me with a dire look. “You tell us what the issue is, and we try to figure out a solution.”

I don’t like the sound of that. For one thing, it should be obvious to anyone with half a functioning brain that Bellamy’s absence from my personal and professional lives will take some getting used to. Plus, I don’t intend to discuss the current depths of my despair with anyone, especially these two clowns.

“Look,” I say. “Things have been a little dicey this week because I don’t have an executive assistant. I’d hoped to start training one by now, but the agency keeps sending over underqualified candidates. The guy they sent over on Tuesday didn’t even make it until lunchtime.”

Ryker glances over at Damon and frowns. “Is that the guy they found having a panic attack in the men’s room after Griff showed him the ropes and told him his expectations?”

“Nope,” Damon says tightly. “That was Monday’s guy.”

“That’s right,” Ryker says, snapping his fingers as his expression clears.

“It wasn’t a full-on panic attack,” I say. “I think he was hiding. Obviously, he wasn’t ready for a big-boy job. The agency will send someone new over next week and things will settle down.”

“That’s the point, jackass,” Damon says with rising frustration. “The agency is now refusing to send anyone else over to work with you. And I’m pissed that I need to get down in the weeds with this petty executive assistant bullshit. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

I shift uncomfortably, feeling a vague stab of guilt.

“We’ll find another agency. I’ll get someone hired and trained. Problem solved.” I down another healthy portion of my drink. “Are we done?”

“Problem solved?” Ryker chokes back a laugh. “Did he actually just say that?”

“He did.” Damon looks substantially less amused. “As if his real problem isn’t Bellamy.”

I flinch, the sound of her name a nasty zap to some unidentifiable but tender point deep inside my body. “There’s nothing to solve. She’s gone. That’s that. Don’t mention her again.”

“Yeah, but why is she gone?” Ryker asks.

“Try to keep up,” I say, glaring at him. “She’s going to law school at Berkeley. And I just told you not to mention her again.”

“They have law schools here,” Damon says quietly.

There’s something empathetic in his expression that borders on pity. I don’t like it. I don’t like it so much that I down the rest of my drink and get up to make myself a refill.

“Yeah, well, her father lives there.” I add ice a little more forcefully than I need to, causing a couple of cubes to ricochet out of the glass and onto the floor. “Anything else? Since you two seem determined to continue this pointless conversation?”

“Yeah.” Ryker again. “We have an office out there. Why don’t you relocate?”

I pour too much tonic into the glass, causing it to fizz and overflow. Cursing, I look around for a towel, mop up the mess and toss the towel aside. Then I plant my hands on the cart and lean into it, staring out at the rose garden and trying to get my thoughts together.

Why don’t I relocate?

Like I haven’t thought of that and a million other unworkable scenarios to keep Bellamy in my life.

Why don’t I move out there? Why don’t I beg her to move back here? Why don’t we split the difference and settle in Kansas City?

Why don’t I throw myself at her feet and tell her I can’t breathe without her?

“Yeah, that won’t work,” I tell them.

“Law school’s only three years,” Damon says without missing a beat. “You could do the long-distance thing. It’s not like you don’t have a jet to get back and forth.”

My throat gets tighter all the sudden, probably because I feel a swell of rising emotion. What emotion? No fucking idea. But it feels hot. Hard. I press my lips together, determined not to open my mouth unless I have some control over what might come out.

“Don’t badger him, Damon,” Ryker says. “For all we know, Bellamy wanted a clean break. Is that what happened, Griff? She cut you loose?”

I try to answer him, but now my mouth doesn’t seem to work. It feels like I’m cranking the handle to control someone else’s body.

“Griff?” Ryker says. “Is that what happened?”

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