Page 129 of Enthrall
“I’m meeting Lotte for brunch.” Cameron smiled. I’ll see you two later.”
Within moments he’d stepped inside the elevator and the doors shut on him, taking our conversation with him and hopefully never to be repeated.
“What was he doing here?” said Richard.
“He wanted to talk to me.”
“About?”
“Us.”
Richard stared at the lift. “Well?”
“He cares for you so much he just wanted to know that I love you and I want to be with you.” There, I said it, and it felt wonderful to share the truth.
“He’s worse than my mother,” said Richard, shaking his head. “I didn’t like waking up and not seeing you there. What happened?”
“I told you. I didn’t want to be late.”
“I’m sure your boss would understand.”
“I’ll make him some coffee.”
Richard waved that off. “I’ll make it.”
I grabbed the appointment book off the desk and followed him down the hallway and he wrapped his arm around my waist, kissing my forehead.
“What’s in the Frederick’s bag?” He opened the door to the coffee room, allowing me to go on ahead.
I bit my lip and handed him the diary.
He peered down at today’s date. “You were having a pretty serious conversation with Cameron. What brought that on?” He walked away, keeping his back to me.
“I Googled you,” I admitted.
“I Googled you too.”
“Really?” My attention stayed on the glass pot.
He made his way over to the coffeemaker and rested the book aside. He set about brewing fresh beans. How strange, I could plan such a rendezvous and yet talking about it terrified me.
“I’m afraid nothing came up on you.” He shook his head and smiled. “We may need to remedy that.”
My face fell as thoughts of the articles flashed back to me.
“I imagine what you read about me blew your mind?” he said.
I opened the cupboard and reached in for two mugs and placed them on the counter before us.
“You read about Emily?” he said.
Brown liquid trickled and sputtered into the pot, the scent of coffee filling the air.
He ran his fingertip along the box of filters. “We hadn’t decorated the nursery yet. We couldn’t agree on the color scheme. She wanted yellow. I fucking hate yellow.”
“I’m so sorry, Richard.”
“I could have gotten used to yellow.”
