Page 123 of Playing A Risk
“At first, that’s why I stayed. I was waiting for him to see if he left before me. I lost track of him and the time when I started taking shots.”
“Not one of your finest moments,” I say dryly.
“Sorry, babe. It had been a rough day.”
And today’s going to be another one.
She takes hold of my chin and turns my head to hers. “I’m sorry I turned off my phone. Sometimes, I need time to think so I don’t react and say something I’ll regret.”
“It’s not that.” My chest heats as my stomach knots. “Beauty, we need to talk.”
“If this is about what happened with Jami, you heard him. It’s over between us. There’s nothing more to worry about.”
I push off the couch because I can’t face her when I tell her. “It’s not that either.”
“Okay, then. What is it? Is it about my contract? Shit. Did someone go to the board and turn me in?” She jumps to her feet and tugs on my arm.
“No, beauty. Your job is still intact.”
“Is this about your mom?”
All the pressure of her questions erupts like a volcano.
My mind sputters out of control. “No. Yes. Fuck, it’s all of it.”
“I’ve put you through too much. I told you once that Jami will always have a piece of my heart, but I’m going to work on releasing that for good.”
She pads to the window and wraps her arms around her waist. “You deserve to have all my heart, and I vow to give it to you soon. Just give me a little time because it still stings a little. You know?”
I rub the back of my aching neck. “I’m sure it does, but?—”
“Don’t say it, Hunter. Please.” She spins to me. “I’m already losing Melanie. I can’t lose you on top of it all. It’ll be too much and I’ll break. Give me time and I promise I’ll make this up to you.”
I close my eyes and sink into myself. This is going to rip her to shreds.
The screeching of my fire alarm startles me as it blares throughout my penthouse. Dorothy runs by me.
“Shit, Hunter. The bacon’s on fire. Do you have baking soda?” She yanks the electrical cord out of the socket.
I rush to her. “Just throw water on it.”
“Hell, no. That will set the whole kitchen on fire. I need an extinguisher or baking soda.”
“There’s one in the utility closet.” I take off in search of it, my blood racing.
I find it and run back to her. “Do you know how to use one of these things?”
“No. Don’t you?”
“Fuck, no. I barely cook.” My hands shake as I skim over a picture that explains what to do if needed.
I pull on the hose and point it at the griddle. The dry chemical powder sprays all over the counter, smothering the fire.
She scratches her head as she assesses the damage. “I guess that’s one way of getting you to stop breaking up with me.”
It’s so typical of her to find some remnant of humor in a situation like this that I can’t help but laugh.
I place down the extinguisher and take her in my arms. “You, my love, are going to be the death of me.”
