Page 120 of Fixing to Be Mine

“She’s not answering questions,” I say over my shoulder. “Respect her space.”

They keep their distance but continue screaming her name.

My hand stays in hers as she guides me closer to the building.Park Towerssparkles in golden letters above the entrance.

The guard nods as we approach, and the doors slide open. When we slip inside, the noise cuts off, as if someone flipped a switch. I immediately feel out of place.

She exhales slowly, but her stiff posture doesn’t change. She’s not rattled, but I can see the difference in her here versus in Texas. She’s tense, calculative, and wearing armor I haven’t seen.

The elevator opens, and she presses her thumb against the pad. We zip upward, and she leans against the mirrored wall, lost in her thoughts.

“Do you deal with that all the time?” I ask.

She nods. “Since I was a young child.”

I squeeze her hand. “How?”

She glances over at me. “I didn’t have a choice. I was trained for this life from birth.”

“You walked through it like you were bulletproof,” I mutter, impressed.

She stares at me for a long moment, like she can’t believe I’m here. I pull her closer, and she wraps her arms around my waist.

Leaning forward, I press my lips against her forehead. “You’re safe.”

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she says, squeezing me a little tighter as the elevator doors open.

We step into a private foyer, and then she unlocks the door and allows me inside first.

Two walls are made of glass with crisp lines, offering a view that stretches across the city. I can see the river and Central Park.

“This is your home?” I take a slow glance around.

Everything is beautiful and expensive, but it doesn’t feel lived in.

Stormy sets her bag down on a marble counter. “It never felt like one.”

“Yeah, I get that vibe. Doesn’t feel like you.” I notice how the air smells like lemons and money, and every wall is millennial gray.

This makes me chuckle.

“What?”

I shake my head. “The color on the wall.”

A pretty smile touches her lips, and it’s the first one I’ve seen since we deboarded the plane.

“I need to grab a few phone numbers from my office upstairs. Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here, waiting.”

She disappears up the stairs. There’s something about the way she walks away with her shoulders squared and jaw tight. I hope she takes a quiet moment for herself while she’s up there.

I move to the windows and stare outside. Buildings stack on top of each other, and it’s beautiful, in a way. Nothing like Valentine, where the sky’s so big that it’s easy to forget your name.

I hear her voice before I see her.

“No. First thing tomorrow. Not a call, in person. Just make it happen.” She’s direct. Upset. I can hear it in her voice.

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