Page 23 of Enemies, Lovers & A Valentine's Baby

He’s an evil I’ve resigned myself to tolerating if I’m forced to be in the same room, but that’s about as far as I can go. I draw the line at asking him for anything, much less answers that he wouldn’t give even if I tried.

“Anyway,” I continue, “it’s not like I can just walk over to casually talk to him. He lives in Seattle, remember?”

Her eyes shift, and the knot in my stomach tightens even more.

“Actually,” the words come out slower than usual, “he moved here a few months ago,” she says as my eyes widen with surprise. “Greg helped him buy his new place.”

She raises her hand as my face flushes and mouth opens. “You told us you didn’t want to hear anything about him, remember?” I close my mouth as I can’t think of a quick enough comeback.

“Whatever really happened between Greg and this woman—whatever’s still happening, he knows about it, Lila. I can feel it. You just need to—”

“Sue,” I say softly, interrupting her spiral.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. If it were anything else, anyone else, you know I’d do this for you. But not him. Remember how you were my therapist for months! He told me I was useless, that I was wasting my life away, and that I—” I pause, cutting myself short.

I refuse to go down that road. Not today.

“I’m sorry. I just…can’t.”

Chapter 8

Cold Resolve

Cole

I walk briskly out of the elevator, making my way down the hallway to my office. A hand in my pocket and hair tousled slightly, I know the aura I’m giving off, successful, strong, put together, and even though it doesn’t exactly match what I feel inside, it’s good enough for me. I replace the pensive frown I can feel on my face with a nonchalant expression as a few employees scramble past me, doing their best to look busy. Their greetings only elicit a curt nod from me.

I know that if most of them were asked to describe me anonymously, they would say I’m the spawn of the devil. Cold, difficult, calculating, someone who doesn’t care who he has to hurt to get what he wants.

They’re not wrong.

I wasn’t always this way, though. Once upon a time, I was a completely different man. I was the guy who brought a girl flowers on the first date, opened her door, held her seat out for her. I was the type to go all out to see to it that the people I cared for were happy.

That mirrored my professional life. Ever the consummate people-pleaser. But all it ever brought me was hurt and disappointment. So, I made the decision to lock those emotions up deep inside myself. I had to be tougher—it was the only way.

I shake my head, snapping out of it. Today is not the day to go down memory lane. As I get closer to my office, I rotate my shoulders in my tailored black suit to release some of the tension trying to creep up.

Soon I’m sitting in my plush leather chair, staring out the glass windows of my office at the beautiful scenery outside.

The warm Boston sun casts a golden glow on the city. It’s just a little after 8:00 A.M., but it already looks like it’s midday because of how bright the sun is. Pale clouds hang fluffily in the sky, contrasting brightly against the soft shade of blue.

My mind starts to wonder, and before it has a chance to take me down that familiar dark path, a sharp knock on my door thankfully brings me back to reality.

I shake my head and sit still for a moment.

A curt knock sounds twice again, and a second later, the door is pushed open.

My assistant, Allie, walks up to my table, her head buried in the file she has open in her hands, scribbling some things into it.

“Good morning, sir,” she greets, finally looking at me.

“Good morning, Allie.”

“Sir, there’s a—um…woman here to see you,” Allie says, glancing at me anxiously.

“I thought you told me I didn’t have any appointments today,” I say, a single brow raised as I wait for her response.

She fiddles nervously. “That’s true. She was not on the schedule.”

---