Hero

“You received a message today at nine oh seven … Lexie, it’s me,” my grandfather’s deep voice rumbled into the room. “I hate the way we left it last night, sweetheart. Call me. We need to talk …” Upon listening to the irritating answer service lady’s options, I deleted the message, needing to be numb from the pain he’d caused me too.

 

“You received a message today at ten forty-four … Lexie. It’s Effie. What has happened? Caine wouldn’t let me into his apartment this morning. He was a snippy little shit and he’s never like that with me. He says he’s changing the locks. What’s going on? Call me right away.”

 

The ache in my chest intensified at the panic in Effie’s voice. Caine was shutting her out too. I squeezed my eyes closed, rubbing at the throb of pain behind them. What on earth had I walked in on last night? What secret was he hiding that had set him off?

 

I sighed and pressed the button again.

 

“You received a message today at two twenty … Hey, it’s me,” Rachel greeted. “I’m just calling to see how the ball went last night. I still can’t believe you attend balls. Wait. Was it a ball? Or a gala? Or do you just call it a party? What is the difference and does anyone whose head isn’t up their ass actually give a fuck? Did you wear the Jenny Packham, you lucky bitch? Please tell me that hot Neanderthal didn’t rip it off your body and ruin a three-thousand-dollar dress. On second thought, don’t tell me anything. If my jealousy increases over a certain level, I will have to end our friendship. Anyway, gorgeous, call me. I want the delicious details …”

 

Tears clogged my throat and I stubbornly swallowed them down. I’d cried enough tears today to fill a very deep well.

 

I was done.

 

I had to get a grip on myself so I could face Caine tomorrow with some goddamn dignity.

 

Bracing myself, I pressed the button again … a little breathless with anticipation.

 

“You received a message today at three oh two … Lexie.” Effie’s voice dashed my hope that I’d hear from Caine. “I just wanted you to know that Caine cooled down and he dropped by to see me … He told me what happened, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry. I’ve tried reasoning with him, but I … I think he’s hiding something. Just … don’t give up on him. When he goes Mr. Big Chill on me I know he’s feeling things deeper than usual. It’s his way of coping. I … Please don’t give up on him …”

 

The familiar sharp stinging in my nose declared the arrival of my tears before I could halt them. The sound of Effie begging me to help someone we loved killed me. Because I wanted to … God, I wanted to if it meant Caine would come back to me …

 

But … he hadn’t left a message.

 

There was this huge part of me that was hurt beyond repair … a huge part of me that was so tired of coming in last with the people I loved. A huge part of me that was sick of doing all the saving.

 

And I realized that more than anything right now I needed to take care of me. My whole life was up in the air … because of him.

 

I had a heart to heal and a career to fix.

 

I didn’t know if I had it in me quite yet to fight some more for Caine.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 25

 

 

The look on Caine’s face as he approached my desk the next morning tore apart any remnants of that hope I’d been holding on to. Although he wasn’t cold, he was carefully polite.

 

I stood up from behind my desk as he came to a stop and there was a part of me that took pleasure at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes. His features were drawn tight with tiredness. He was still beautiful but now in an unkempt way I wished wasn’t so appealing.

 

It was nice to know that he was affected by our breakup. However, it didn’t change anything, and I could see that in the way he carefully nodded his greeting to me. “I’ve been in touch with an agency. They’re sending a temp out on Wednesday.”

 

Panic gripped me.

 

We had only today and tomorrow left together.

 

It made me react without thinking. “Whatever it is you’re hiding, it won’t change how I feel about you.”

 

Last-ditch effort.

 

He stared me directly in the eye. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I am. But this is done now.” He took a step back. “Of course I’ll see to it that you get a month’s pay and you can use me as a reference.”

 

“Tell me you don’t love me,” I said quietly to his retreating back.

 

He froze at his door and then a few seconds later glanced over his shoulder at me. “I don’t.”

 

I slumped back into my chair as he slammed inside his office.

 

The hope shattered, slicing me to ribbons.

 

So this is what this feels like.

 

 

“Your schedule is on my computer, as are all your contacts, and notes from recent meetings that are relevant to matters that are still in progress.” I put a USB drive on his desk. “I’ve put them all on there for you because it’ll be better for your new PA to start with fresh information. If he or she has those notes it’ll confuse him or her, and that could be inconvenient for you. I kept notebooks on my daily duties along with instructions, as well as your personal preferences. There’s everything from standard e-mail and invite responses to your favorite dry cleaner.”

 

I looked up from my notepad and locked eyes with a contemplative Caine.

 

“Thank you, Alexa. That’s extremely helpful.”

 

The careful politeness between us made me want to scream, but somehow I managed to curb that instinct, along with my inclination toward smart-assery. I wanted to end things between us with dignity. Not sarcastic shrewishness.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

He looked down at the papers in front of his desk. “Do you have any prospects for a job? I can put you in touch with the temp agency I use.”

 

“No, thank you,” I said quietly. “I think I’m going to take some time to reevaluate my career.”

 

“That sounds like a plan.”

 

I just managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. How could it be that I’d had sex with this man on his desk (more than once), and now we were acting like two complete strangers?

 

That horrendous ache seemed to have taken up residence in every part of my body and it threatened to overpower me. I shook it off. “We have a meeting with Jeremy Ruger in forty minutes,” I reminded him.

 

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