Page 26 of A Temporary Forever

Because it’s not about me at this point. It’s about the entire ensemble.

And because the success of this mission is in the hands of a man whose behavior and words bring all my insecurities to light.

In the hands of a man who—for the love of God—waits for me as the elevator door opens, wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a white T-shirt that hugs the perfect V of his lean but strong body.

Caleb in a suit is handsome, but this casual version of him is pure foreplay. His light brown hair is damp and in disarray, as if he’s just towel-dried it.

A five o’clock shadow covers his square jaw. His dark blue eyes are almost black as he pins his hooded gaze on me.

He stands there with the backdrop of the city glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire wall behind him.

His eyes rake up and down my body, and I feel so misplaced I freeze. God, I hate how this man makes me feel.

Before I find my mental faculties, the door starts closing. Caleb leaps forward and pushes a button, I think to reopen them, and I stumble outside.

Jesus. Could I have orchestrated a worse entrance?

Caleb eyes me, amusement dancing across his face. “Am I getting an encore performance?”

Yeah, I should’ve changed. And I shouldn’t have drank all that water in the car. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He raises his eyebrows, but thank God, doesn’t comment. He turns on his heel and points to a door, which I assume is the powder room.

I step in gingerly and let out a long breath behind the closed door. Jesus, this bathroom is larger than my apartment.

I sit on the toilet, engaging my muscles to void my bladder in a dripping motion.

The idea of starting this encounter while Caleb listens to my full stream is mortifying. Merde.

I finish my business and refresh my smudged makeup before I step outside. The powder room is in an alcove near the elevator. Both are on an elevated platform—the size of a ballroom—that opens up to a beautiful living room.

I find Caleb sitting on a sofa lining the wall of windows. A glass staircase leads up one side, and bookshelves line the wall on the other side. The room is cavernous, but also somehow homey.

And the king of the house doesn’t hurry to offer any morsels of hospitality. He just sits there, waiting.

I take two steps down from where I’m standing, my heels clicking loudly on the wooden surface before they dig into the soft carpeting of the living room area. “You sent a driver.”

In my frenzy to get to him, I didn’t even get achance to evaluate what that was about. Why would he do that? Like a consolation prize?I’m not helping you out with your visa, so at least I gave you a ride home?

“You’re Saar’s friend, and your neighborhood didn’t feel safe.”

“My building was perfectly safe before you broke the door.”

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “That doorknob was barely hanging.”

I swallow the retort on my tongue.Focus on the mission, Celeste.“Thank you.”

His eyebrow jerks up, and then he furrows it, studying me with suspicion. “What are you doing here, Celeste?”

I square my shoulders. Showtime. “I figured out what you can gain from the arrangement.”

“I thought the price was too high.” He smirks, throwing my words back at me.

“Well, maybe I realized I have more to lose, and that put a new value on the arrangement.”

“So you came up with a counter offer?”

“Yes.”

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