Rowan did her best to look away. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“Well, I do.” James’s voice was louder now. “I’m crazy about you, Saybrook. I know you’re crazy about me.” He leaned forward, his eyes wide. “I already lost Poppy. I cannot lose you.”
“Please.” Rowan angled away from him. “I need you to go.”
James took a step around her desk, toward her chair. Panicked, Rowan spun around so he couldn’t see the papers, covering the top page with her hand. “Don’t shut me out,” he pleaded, catching the back of the chair and turning her back to face him.
The papers slipped from the sudden force; Rowan struggled to keep them on her lap, but a few fluttered to the ground. James cocked his head, his gaze drifting to the carpet. His name was on the top page. In bold lettering. A beat passed. The star-shaped Nelson clock in the corner ticked loudly. Rowan could almost detect the exact moment James realized what she was hiding.
“What are you doing with those?” James said in a tight voice Rowan had never heard before.
“Nothing,” Rowan said quickly, scooping them up and shoving them behind her.
He shot forward to grab the papers. Blocking him with her body, Rowan shoved them into a desk drawer and slammed it shut hard. James’s brow furrowed. He leaned over her to pull at the knob, half his weight on her.
“Hey!” Rowan cried out, pushing him away. “That’s confidential!”
James leaned into her again, his eyes blazing. “I thought we were closer than that.”
“We’re not a we anymore,” Rowan said firmly, shoving him off her once more. “Like I said before, James. Go.”
Slowly James stood up, never taking his gaze off her. His jaw was clenched, and his nostrils flared. There was something coiled and tense about him, as if he were a snake ready to strike. Terror washed over her. Maybe he’d come here to test the waters. And now, with her pulling out the prenup, acting so strange, he knew that she suspected him.
Rowan thought of the balcony off her office, the same as the one off Poppy’s. All that separated her from Poppy’s fate was the thin sliding-glass door behind her, the low terrace wall, and then the long fall to the street. Was that door locked? She couldn’t recall.
James took a step closer to Rowan. Rowan rolled back, hitting her desk. James took another step, trapping her.
“Rowan, Rowan, Rowan,” James said quietly, his breath hot on her face. He reached out and touched her cheek. Rowan flinched and squeezed her eyes shut, feeling his fingers graze her skin. Her jaw began to tremble. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to hurt her right now. There were people just outside the office. But what if he’d cracked? What if he wanted revenge even if it meant he would be caught too?
“You’re going to make me look like a cheating shithead so that everybody has an easy scapegoat, aren’t you?” James whispered angrily.
“You’re insane.” Rowan’s voice sounded stilted, not her own. “I’ll call security.” Her fingers inched toward the phone.
“No, you won’t.” James trapped her wrist against the desk with the flat of his hand. Rowan tried to reach for the phone with the other hand, but James grabbed that too. He had her pinned down in a Twister-like position, one hand crossed over the other. His nails dug into her skin.
“Please,” she whispered, trying to wriggle free. Her whole body started to tremble. “That hurts. Stop.”
“Everything okay in here?”
Rowan looked up. James shot away from her, his hands at his sides. Danielle Gilchrist stood in the doorway, a folder tucked under her arm. Her head was cocked, and there was a crease in her forehead. Her gaze moved from James to Rowan. Rowan was keenly aware of how hard both of them were breathing.
“I was just leaving,” James said, stomping across the office and pushing past Danielle.
Danielle watched James storm down the hall and then looked at Rowan, a worried expression on her face. “Do you need me to call security?” she asked in a small voice.
Rowan ran her hand over the back of her neck. It was sweaty. She was sure her face was flushed too, and her heart was still pounding. “Just make sure he leaves,” she mumbled.
Danielle nodded slowly. Understanding seemed to pass between them, and then she turned in the direction James had gone.
A moment later, Rowan’s cell phone bleated, startling her. Swallowing hard, she pulled it from her purse. On the screen was a familiar number. “Harvey?” she asked tentatively.
“Yes,” answered her doorman. “Just letting you know that I looked at the tape. I have a recording of when your friend left.”
Rowan glanced nervously at her office door. “What time?”
“Six forty a.m.”
Rowan’s knees buckled. She might have muttered “Thank you”; she didn’t really remember. Six forty. Only ten minutes after she’d left.
And with plenty of time to get downtown before Poppy died.
22