Page 96 of Going Deep
“Yes, you did,” came a dry voice. Lola strolled up to stand next to Simon. When she looked at Michael, her gaze did not hold welcome.
“Michael,” she said politely, and he’d have sworn the words had frost on them.
Dismissing him, she turned to give Simon a loving smile. “I’m going to check with Edward about our lesson time for this week. I’ll meet you upstairs in ten?”
“Sounds good.” Simon pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Love you.”
“Love you,” she responded. She turned to Michael, frosty once again. “Michael.”
“That’s my woman,” Simon said, watching her go with a smug smile. “Isn’t she something?”
“She’s something, all right,” Michael murmured and resisted the urge to check himself for frostbite.
Simon waited until Lola had disappeared into the crowd, then swiveled on his stool to face Michael. “All right, back to you. Where were we?”
“I fucked up.”
“Right. What are you going to do to fix it?”
Agitated, Michael shoved his empty glass away. “I have to apologize.”
“An excellent start. For what?”
Michael frowned. “What do you mean, for what? For lying about the Center.”
“And?”
“And dumping her.”
“And?”
“And, what?”
“Jesus, you suck at this. You think that’s all she’s mad about?”
He almost wished Lola were here. He’d rather deal with the frost than riddles. “Isn’t it?”
“This is just a wild guess, but maybe, just maybe, she’s mad about why you lied.”
Michael scowled. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“She also might be mad about you trying to buy her a job,” Simon continued gleefully, “but a consensus on that has yet to be reached.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Michael muttered. “I just got her the interview. I wasn’t going to insist Miriam hire her.”
Simon held up his hands. “Don’t tell me, tell her.”
Michael pushed back from the bar. “I need my phone.”
“Go get her, tiger,” Simon called after him
Michael just shot up a middle finger and kept walking, Simon’s laughter following him. He wove through the crowd, impatient to get to his office, and his cell phone. I need to talk to my woman.
Which turned out to be a lot more complicated than he’d expected.
He called, but she didn’t answer her phone, and his texts went unread. Not wanting to risk driving on three whiskeys, he called a ride share, and after a stop at an all-night convenience store for some very expensive flowers, went to her apartment. But after fifteen minutes of knocking on her door, he finally accepted that she wasn’t home.
Where could she be?
