Page 25 of Obsession

“I’m not an idiot,” I snapped.

He straightened his shoulders. “Yes, well, I have to make sure. The realtor will be here with a lock box for the front door on Friday morning.”

“I understand.”

He patted down his stubborn cowlick again. “I’ll be going now.”

“That would be lovely.”

He waved at me awkwardly and backed down the lane, gravel popping under his tires. When I was certain he couldn’t see me anymore, I sprinted for the hill and down to the beach.

The sand was packed from the rains and the tide rolling in, but I needed the ocean. I needed the sea spray on my face. What was I going to do without it? How was I supposed to just pick up and go?

How would I survive?

I dropped to the sand heedless of my skirt, sat cross-legged, and stared at the lacy fingers of the tide until the moon rose over the water. I didn’t feel the cold, didn’t feel anything really. Sometime between dark and light, I stumbled into myworkroom and found oblivion on the mattress I kept in the corner.

I woke when my alarm told me to wake and washed on auto-pilot. The idea of drying my hair required far too much energy. I sprayed in some gel and left it to wave where it wanted. I simply didn’t care.

It was late enough that the sky was starting to lighten. I still had to use my torch app on my phone to climb the stairs to my room. I found a navy skirt that was long enough so I could wear my brown boots without tights. I unearthed a heather-gray sweater set at the back of my closet. I brought it all back downstairs to my studio, so I had enough light to get ready.

I looked like death. Pale and drawn from lack of sleep and sadness. A sudden need to make sure Blake didn’t know he’d defeated me finally put some color in my cheeks. I shook out my hair and stared into the mirror.

He had no clue who I was, but I simply could not look weak. Not if I wanted to finally talk to him about the house. I had to find some way to buy it back from him.

Renewed with purpose, I grabbed my liner and highlighted my eyes. It was a little heavier than I usually wore for daytime, but it suited my wild hair. It was time to take on Blake Carson and find a way out of this mess.

Chapter Ten

“Morning, Blondie.”

I waved to Violet on my way in. Thankfully, she was more interested in her daytime guard, Angie, than having a conversation this morning. Having an executive parking spot had netted me an extra fifteen minutes before I was due. I wanted to be up at my desk and ready to go before Mr. Carson left his icy gray cage of an office.

He could watch me all he wanted today.

I slapped my badge against the sensor, and the elevator rose to the top floor. I scanned his kingdom. The extended atrium-like vestibule that showed off the cool beauty of the glass. The huge lobby with its tonal seats that made it feel grand and rich.

More proof of how well he was doing. Everything shone, everything showcased what his special glass could do. All of it had bought my grandmother’s house.

I hated it.

My first day had been full of wonder. Today, I only saw everything I didn’t have. Everything his money was taking from me.

When the doors opened, I stalked out of the elevator. I set up at my desk and tried not to stare at the opaque door to his office.I put my headset on and started burning through bottles of soda and my email list.

Blake’s checklist was eternal, but I kept up with him. When I opened my folder—now dubbed The Pit of Despair—and thought I was almost done, there would be more there. Four bottles into my Pepsi Max brigade, I finally cried uncle and took a walk around the executive floor. I found a vending machine and took a much needed bathroom break.

“Blondie.”

I turned toward Jack’s voice and backed up to his doorway. “Hey there.”

“You’ve been a damn machine today. Are you trying to outdo Blake?”

“Maybe.”

He laughed and laced his fingers behind his head as he swayed in his chair. “It’ll never happen. I don’t want to see you burn out.”

“I can take whatever he dishes out.”

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