I sighed. “I don’t . . . uh . . . sorry. You were saying?”
“How ‘bout a real drink and some food?” He reached into his leather satchel and pulled out a file. “We can start talking property disbursement and numbers.”
“Sure.” I took a deep breath and pushed Kane from my mind. “About the food and the work, anyway. I don’t drink alcohol while I’m working.”
“You will eventually.” Marcus tipped back his bottle of beer. “Give it a couple years.”
I smiled weakly. “Yeah.”
Kane had to be here. I could feel his presence in the club, warm and commanding. Sitting here was proving much harder than I’d expected.
I took my dark rimmed reading glasses out of my bag and put them on, sending me into mental work mode. Marcus talked while I reviewed the paperwork and nibbled on raw veggies.
“Four homes?” I glanced up from the page I was reading. “So they get two apiece?”
“I don’t know.” Marcus shrugged. “They both want the L.A. place a lot.”
The pull was too strong to resist. I had to at least see him, which I hoped to do without him seeing me.
“I need to run to the bathroom,” I said, returning the paper to its file. “If the food comes, don’t wait for me to start eating.”
Marcus nodded, his gaze scanning the club now, too. Was his mind also somewhere else?
I headed toward the bathroom, waiting until I was past the crowd to change direction. The hallway where Kane’s office was located was empty. I walked to his door quickly, before I lost my nerve.
It was closed. Was he inside? I pictured him in front of his massive wood desk, his brows drawn together in thought.
I wanted to knock. I wanted to barge in, actually, and demand the answers to the questions that had been driving me crazy for two weeks. My hand went to the door, but instead of knocking I laid my palm flat against the dark wood.
If he wanted to see me, he would’ve called. I knew that in my head, but my heart was a different story.
I felt the warmth of a presence behind me and spun around. Kane’s dark, calculating eyes were locked on mine. His palms rested on the door now, one beside each of my shoulders, pinning me in.
My heart pounded as his eyes bored into mine. He wore his trademark scowl and his beard looked a bit shorter. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but something kept me rooted in place. He was angry. At me.
“Nice to see you, Viv,” he ground out. “Something I can do for you and your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Prospective boyfriend, then?”
His bitter tone reignited my anger. “What do you care? You walked out and never called.”
He leaned closer and I took in his smoky cedar scent. “I’m not right for you. But you didn’t need to come here and rub my fuckin’ face in it.”
“Why? Why didn’t you at least call? I thought we had something good starting.”
He dipped his head down and stared at the floor. My pulse raced from his nearness. If only he’d lift his face back up to mine so I could try to read what was in his dark chocolate eyes right now.
“What are you doing with Marcus?” he demanded. “Are you dating him?”
His voice held notes of both bitterness and hope. It told me more than words ever could have. This couldn’t be the end for us. He still felt something, too. I reached out and grabbed a fistful of his black t-shirt, pulling him toward me.
“No,” I said softly. “This is a work meeting. He’s not the one I want . . . you are.”
Kane raised his face back to mine and leaned all the way in, his forehead resting against mine. He pressed a knee to the door between my legs. I arched my back, closing the space between us.
“Careful, Viv,” he said, his voice a low rumble of warning.
“Or what?” My chest moved in and out against his.