That was a problem. I had been methodical about building up those walls, and yet Tori had gotten in. Maybe that’s why my reaction to the news of her being a ‘matchmaker’ had been so strong. Maybe it had less to do with her profession, and more to do with my brain subconsciously latching on to a flaw that could be exploited to put her firmly back into the category of meaningless, disposable, and replaceable, with all the other woman I’d dealt with since Natalie. The comment about her husband cheating on her? That had been unnecessary, and honestly mean. What other reason would I have to say something like that, other than an attempt to push her way?
I vowed not to let another woman get her toe into the door to my heart. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my sanity when I could find women to fulfill my physical needs and then send them on their way. I never had a problem doing that, even when, inevitably, there was a woman who thought she could ‘change’ me. She and her tears were sent packing too. So maybe Tori’s anger with me was for the best. Our flirtatious interaction at breakfast — before the blowup— left no doubt in my mind that if the meal had gone as planned, Tori would have been in my bed again, instead of just her scent lingering in my sheets.
What I needed to do was leave her alone. Send her flowers, and an apology of course, but leave it at that, and go back to normal. Before yesterday, I had barely known she existed, so I had to get back to that place. I had no delusions it would be easy.
— 3 —
— Tori —
“I know, Lauren. Yes, I know. Yes, Lauren, I’ll be sure to let him know. Well, no, I don’t usually… okay, well why don’t we try a different approach?”
I massaged my temples, fighting the urge to scream as I listened to my client vent about her string of unsuccessful dates. Physically, Lauren was very attractive, but the girl complained like it was going out of style, and couldn’t seem to understand that a grousing woman, to most men, was patently unappealing. She had been a client for almost three months, and I had coached her through it repeatedly, but it never stuck. I was honestly hesitant to put my other clients with her, because I knew she was going to ‘grow up’ to be a nagging ass wife.
It took another thirty minutes of fielding her gripes before I was able to get her off the phone, and I laid my head on my desk, exhausted from the effort. Working with my clients used to energize me, but now, it sometimes felt like a punishment. With a heavy sigh, I brushed that feeling to the side, knowing it was the residual bitterness of my marriage and divorce talking.
“Hey stranger.”
Startled, I looked up to see Desiree standing in my doorway. I was used to her unannounced trips from her home in Chicago to visit me in Dallas. They happened so often my assistant didn’t page me anymore when Des came in, she just let her through, but I hadn’t expected one so soon after our return from the Maldives. I had thrown myself into work as soon as we got back, not wanting to think about what had transpired between Avery and me. The frequent communication I usually shared with Des, which had already been dwindling, was an unfortunate casualty. We had talked a little, each confirming that the other was home safe, and Des apologized for Avery, but that had been it. Still, I was excited to see her, looking beautiful in her post-honeymoon glow.
“Des, hey!” I pushed back my chair and stood, greeting her with a hug. “What are you doing here?”
She hugged me warmly in return. “I came to make sure you were okay.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I led Des to my desk to sit down. “What makes you think I wasn’t okay?”