He dropped his hands and walked away to stare out the window, combing one hand through his hair. When he turned back to her, anger made his jaw hard and his eyes opaque. “I can’t tar you with the same brush as Teresa. You couldn’t have engineered my bout with the flu. But you are a damned skillful opportunist.”
Chloe had expected this, even deserved it, but she still felt as though he’d drawn back his fist and socked her in the stomach. “When someone you love depends on you, you can’t always make the decisions you want to,” she said evenly. “You offered me the job without any prompting from me.”
“I offered you the job so I could screw you in my office whenever I wanted to.”
Even though she knew he was lashing out because she’d hurt him, his crudeness made her angry. “And you wanted to win your bet, didn’t you?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he said, but she caught the flash of guilt in his eyes.
“I heard you talking to Gavin and Luke about using me to win. That’s why you took me to the charity dinner. Was screwing me in your office part of the wager?”
He gave her a long, level look. “You are so far wrong about that.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“It wasn’t relevant.”
“It involved me, so I think it was relevant.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked away, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“How can I, when you won’t tell me?” His refusal to explain made her angry. With jerky movements she unhooked the earrings from her earlobes and removed the bracelet from her wrist, holding them out to him.
He yanked his gaze back to her before he reached out and scooped the jewelry off her palm. The anger that had fueled him seemed to evaporate as he closed his fingers on the sparkling baubles. His voice was hollow as he said, “I hoped you would keep them.”
“You know I can’t.”
When he lifted his eyes to hers, she nearly cried out at the desolation in them. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he’d felt more for her than she believed. But it didn’t matter now. She had made her decision.
Without thinking she reached out to him, but his expression made her pull back her hand as though she’d gotten too near a bonfire. Except this bonfire burned with the cold of a glacier.
“I’ll need my jacket,” he said, nodding toward her.
“Of course.” She’d forgotten she was still wearing it. Shrugging the warm garment off, she held it out. He took it in a way that avoided even brushing her fingertips. When a shiver ran through her, she wasn’t sure if it was from the air-conditioning or from the icy contempt radiating from Nathan.
“Tell Ben and Ed I’ll be in the Rolls,” he said as he settled the jacket over his broad shoulders.
She opened her mouth to say good-bye, but he’d already pivoted toward the door. All she could do was watch him stride away from her.
She wanted to throw herself facedown on the plastic of the sofa and wail, but she had to keep herself together for Grandmillie.
Looking down, she realized she still had Nathan’s tissues clutched in her hand. She opened her fingers and smoothed the crumpled packet back into its neat, rectangular shape. This would be the memento she treasured as the last thing he ever gave her.
CHAPTER 29
Nathan strode along the sidewalk with his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved in his pockets. He’d left Ben and Ed at his apartment. He didn’t feel good about that. But he didn’t feel good about anything right now, which was why he was headed for the R and D lab on a Saturday night.
He hoped no one else was pathetic enough to be there, because he was damned lousy company.
As he walked, he felt another wave of disbelief and anger roll through him, and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t known Chloe long enough for it to hit him so hard.
This was Gavin Miller’s fault, with all his tripe about finding a woman who didn’t care about the money and the power. Nathan yanked his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and scrolled to the writer’s number.
“You are a prize ass,” he growled when Miller answered.
“So I’ve been told, but what’s my specific crime tonight?”
Nathan was pissed off to hear amusement in the other man’s tone. “Your moronic wager.”
“More trouble with the opposite sex. I shouldn’t be surprised. Meet me at the Bellwether Club. I’m buying.”
He didn’t want to be at his home. He didn’t want to be at Trainor Electronics. He might as well go to the club and get drunk.
He pivoted in the direction of the club. “Be there in twenty.”
“You look like hell,” Gavin said as he slouched into the leather chair across from Nathan. He wore jeans, like Nathan, but with a black turtleneck and tweed jacket.
“You look like someone pretending to be a writer.” Nathan had already tossed back one scotch and was sipping his second.
The waiter slid an empty crystal tumbler onto the table in front of Gavin. “Will you be sharing the scotch, sir,” he asked, nodding to the bottle on the table, “or would you prefer bourbon?”