Page 63 of Inarticulate

“Just look at him.” Kelly implored her with Bambi eyes. “He’s remorseful. Even I can see that under that intimidating glare of his.”

Savannah weakened, glancing toward the glass door. Keenan had regressed. He was back to scowling at her. The exact same expression as the night they met.

“What’s the harm?” Kelly added, grabbing her handbag off the counter. “You said you were leaving tomorrow anyway.”

The harm was all soul deep. Her stomach had been wrung like a dishcloth and she wasn’t sure if she could hide it if they spoke again.

“Good luck.” Kelly placed a hand on Savannah’s shoulder. “No matter what you decide, I hope it involves you sticking around in Seattle a little longer. The majority of us thought you were doing a really good job, and I don’t think who you were screwing changes that.” She lowered her voice. “And just to let you know, he’s already got one hand on the door.”

Savannah swallowed, hard, and wished every one of Kelly’s retreating steps toward the lobby didn’t feel like she was being shoved to the wolves. The swish of the door followed soon after, giving her an excuse to down the full glass of wine in three painful gulps.

She didn’t need to be informed of his presence. She could already feel him beside her, probably preparing to sink another knife in beside the one still embedded between her ribs. His solid frame slid onto the barstool Kelly had been seated on, and the unmistakable scent of his aftershave sank heavy into her lungs. He was there, right there. All sexiness and superiority wrapped up in a casual package of jeans and leather jacket.

“Leave.” She raised her glass then glared at the non-existent contents.

“Can I get you another one?” Grant strode around the bar, shocking her with his presence.

“Yes,” she gasped like an addict being offered a fix. “Please.”

The bartender inclined his head and reached down to the small wine fridge, his gaze scrutinizing her unwelcomed companion. “And you, sir? Can I get you anything?”

“No,” Savannah grated. “He’s leaving.”

Grant nodded and poured her wine. “Do you need anything else before I head back into the restaurant?”

“No.” She would leave mere minutes after him. Once the cool liquid in her glass had finished sliding down her throat, she would be out of here. Away from Keenan, to spend her last night in Seattle alone.

“Okay. I’ll keep coming in to check on you.” Grant walked to the end of the bar and out of view.

The hair on the back of her neck rose, the silence thick and nasty in the air. The alcohol in her stomach solidified, making her nauseated. Keenan was staring at her, she could sense it, feel it.

“I’ll have to inform our legal team, yet again, that Grandiosity staff are on the premises and causing trouble.” She kept staring straight ahead. “Our case for bullying and manipulation continues to grow stronger by the minute.”

He turned his body toward her, his knees bumping her stool. He could kick her chair for all she cared, she still wasn’t going to look at him.

“Just leave,” she murmured. “Run back to Penny.”

Announcing her jealousy wasn’t the best strategy, but intoxication didn’t play by the rules. Her veins were filling with fire, the temperature growing by the second. Soon her face would be flushed and her palms sweaty.

A bang exploded beside her, tearing a gasp from her throat. She glanced at the perpetrator—Keenan’s heavy hand now palm down against the counter. He’d slapped something against the wood. A piece of paper beneath his fingers.

A note.

Her head told her to walk away. To run.

It was the rapid beat of her heart that demanded she read the words that became exposed as his arm slid away from the bar and back to his side. He revealed a bright yellow Post-It scribbled with the words—Let me explain.

She fought the fragility taking over her and laughed. “Please leave, Mr. Black.”

There was another slap on the bar, another bang of sound that made her gasp. And yet again, she had no will to stop herself from looking at the new message.

Would you have spared me the time of day if you knew I was the CEO’s son?

She stared at the question, reliving their past with his new position in mind. The answer was easy. Obvious. That was the problem. This thing between them should never have happened, yet he manipulated the silence to make sure it did.

His hand fell heavy again and this time she didn’t startle at the sound of palm against wood.

Would you have given me a chance if you knew who I was?

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