Page 16 of The Charmer's Gambit
“Sure, down the hall is the master bedroom. I’ll stay out here to wait for the food.”
I swallowed. “Thank you.”
My stocking-covered feet slid a little as I wandered down the marble-floored hallway to the open door at the end. I passed two doors along the way but wanted to be as far away from Will as possible when I made this call. The last thing I needed was for Ryan to hear a male voice in the background.
Shutting the door behind me, I moved to the oversized bed in the middle of the room and leaned against it. The dimming sun cast the room in eerie shadows, befitting my mood. When the phone rang again, I answered it.
“Hi—”
“Where are you?” he demanded.
I cleared my throat. “I told you I’m working.”
“Don’t lie to me, Rachel.”
“I’m not.” Silence settled over my shoulders and scattered goose bumps down my arms. He wasn’t even breathing. “Ryan—”
“You know, when you mentioned having to work, I actually felt bad. I picked up a nice dinner for us to enjoy in your office, so imagine my surprise when I opened the door to an empty room.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. Not because of the darkness coloring his tone, but because of his words. Baker Brown resided in a secure building. Keycards were required after hours, and they were programmed by floor. I also locked mydoor before I left. It was possible a security guard let him up, he knocked without an answer, and he jumped to assumptions, but I doubted it.
He has a key to my office. . .
“Where are you?” he repeated when I said nothing.
My legs started to wobble, forcing me to sit on the bed. “I’m with a client,” I managed.
It seemed that whenever my confidence started coming back, Ryan chased it away with a simple appearance or a tone. How many times would I allow him to do this to me? Why did I put up with it?
Every time he showed up or called, he acted like we were still together. It didn’t matter what I said or how many times I refused, he stillownedme.
And I hated him for it.
I hated myself for allowing it.
“You’re with a client?” he repeated, incredulous.
“A potential one, yeah.” I coughed to dislodge the cotton balls coating my throat. “I’m reviewing their portfolio and assessing the scope of their project.” I purposely avoided a male pronoun. “Baker Brown is drawing up a proposal, and if it’s accepted, I’ll be the primary point of contact.” I stopped explaining.Too much information.
He said nothing for too long. “What’s the project?” I listed a few financial statistics, and he let loose a low whistle. “And they want you to lead it?” He sounded not so much surprised as impressed.
“Yes.” I didn’t elaborate.
“Wow, that’s great, baby! Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shivered at his swift change in demeanor.Hello, Doctor Jekyll. “I didn’t want to jinx it.” It was the best excuse I could come up with on the spot.Because it’s none of your fuckingbusiness, was what I wanted to say, but the words sat heavy in my chest.
“Are you out with clients right now?”
I didn’t correct his use of the plural. “Yes.”
“So that’s why you didn’t answer. Okay. Sorry, babe, I thought . . .” He trailed off on a breath, and I sensed him shaking his dark head. “Hey, we need to celebrate.”
Or we could not and say we did. I bit my lip, considering. “Well.”Think faster, Rach. “Assuming the proposal is accepted, I’ll have to drop all my current tasks to get caught up. There’s a lot of work to do, and they want me to travel, so I have no idea what my schedule is going to look like or when I’ll be free.” It all came out in a rush, a habit when my nerves took over.He’s going to think I’m lying.
“Yeah, no, I totally get that. Of course. We’ll figure it out, though, baby. We always do.”
You meanyoualways figure it out. “Right.” A female voice floated down the hallway, telling me the pizza had arrived. Or maybe Will’s friends from the bar. I frowned. “I’ve gotta go.” My voice sounded stronger. Irritated, even.
