Page 37 of Playing With Fire
“I hope you’re hungry. I managed to get reservations at Starlight,” Gregor says as we walk into the presidential suite of our hotel.
Perhaps I’m jaded, or truly ungrateful, but except for being slightly larger, this hotel room looks like any other I’ve stayed in. I don’t really see the need for all this space for only two nights, but I’m supposed to be trying to make this work, so I shove the negative thoughts to the back of my mind.
“Sounds great. I’ll get ready.” I offer him a smile and grab what I need from my bag. The restaurant is only a few doors down, so I don’t hesitate to throw on my dress and heels.
As I freshen my makeup, my thoughts wander. In my mind, we’re in a small oceanfront house with a covered deck that connects to the master bedroom. There are no skyscrapers, no horns honking, no fancy dinners. There’s local fish grilled on a small charcoal grill on the deck, and a bottle of wine we drink with the waves as the background noise of our conversation. We stay in bed naked all day with the doors open, watching an ominous storm rage over the water in the distance as the warm summer breeze rustles the curtains and hands begin to wander.
It doesn’t take long for me to realize that in my fantasy, where my mind is allowed to roam unchecked, it’s a pair of amber eyes—not deep blue—that look down at me as the weight of a solid frame descends along my body.
Shit.
Besides,my brain chides,Gregor’s never been a stay-in-bed-all-day kind of guy. To be fair, there was a time in my life when I loved that about him.
Perhaps I’m changing, and that isn’t his fault.
But it’s not really mine, either. It just happens.
When I come back into the living area a few minutes later, Gregor’s talking to someone on speakerphone while he writes on the notepad with the hotel’s emblem across the top.
“Yes, I can do that,” he agrees.
“You’re sure? Your announcement about being gone this weekend was fairly abrupt.” I recognize the disapproving voice of John Cox on the other end of the line. “If you and Shannon are having problems and need more time, I can ask?—"
“No, it won’t be a problem,” Gregor responds quickly, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Everything should be resolved by Monday and I’ll be able to make the trip. Shannon and I are better than ever.”
“Glad to hear it. This is a big deal, Hartley. You get this done and we’ll have your name added to the sign by Friday, regardless of how the trial goes.”
“Understood.”
“Great. I’ll send you the info for the trip. Your flight is Monday morning at eight-thirty.”
“Got it. Thank you for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
Gregor taps the button to disconnect the call and turns to see me leaning against the doorway. His eyes are shining with excitement. “You heard that, right? They’re going to make me partner.”
“Congratulations, Greg.” I give him a sincere smile because I know he’s wanted this for so long. Part of me wonders what feat he’ll chase once his name is on that sign because he’s always looking ahead, but now’s not the time to ask.
“Shall we celebrate?” he asks, holding out his arm for me to take. “And may I say, you look breathtaking.”
I nod my head in thanks, afraid if I open my mouth the truth will spill out.I feel like a fraud. We aren’t better than ever. I don’t even want to be here with you.
At dinner, Greg orders champagne and appetizers. The phone call really worked to put him in a good mood, and we manage to talk about Serafina for a while and how quickly she’s growing. Eventually, I decide it’s as good a time as any to tell him my news. Perhaps we can celebrate both of our career wins together.
“I was hired by LongRiver Healthcare. I signed the employment contract earlier today.”
I’m elated. I’ll have my own benefits, my own retirement contributions, and even a sign-on bonus, so my account will have forty grand in it by Monday. I keep that information to myself, though.
I watch Gregor’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare as he tries to get his anger under control.
It doesn’t work.
“That’s really what will make you happy?”
“It’s a start,” I reply, my hands growing clammy and my heart beating faster with the confrontation.
“Were you going to consult me about this?”
“No, Gregor. I don’t need your permission.” My tone is firm, but not aggressive, as I set my fork down on my plate, my appetite gone.
