“Don’t call. Walk over there and get it.”
I can almost feel the blood drain from my face. “Yes. On it.” I step away from the doorway, drawing a calming breath that isn’t calming at all. I knew I’d have to see him today. I just didn’t think it would be right now. I glance at the clock on the wall beside my desk. Eight ten. If I’m lucky he won’t be in yet and I can get Jessica to pass along the contract to me the instant it’s ready.
Spurred by that possibility, I hurry down the hallway, waving at the pretty, happy blond receptionist, barely remembering a time when I was like her. I steel myself for the potential of seeing Shane and round the corner. Jessica is behind her heavy mahogany desk, looking stunning in an emerald-green dress that contrasts with her striking light blond hair, while Shane’s door stands open. His lights are on but there is no stopping now.
Her eyes land on me. “Happy day two. That’s longer than some of Brandon Senior’s former secretaries made it.”
I stop in front of her desk. “I have thick skin and a history of working for assholes,” I assure her.
“And you’re visiting me early.”
“I offered Brandon Senior coffee and he commanded me to present myself here to pick up a contract he’s waiting on.”
“It’s right here.”
At the sound of Shane’s voice, my gaze lifts to find him standing to the right of Jessica in his office doorway, his suit a dark gray, his tie light blue, his expression impossible to read, and a folder in his hand. “Is it ready for me to take it to him?”
“Yes,” he says, and I am certain he will punish me for this morning with a power play, forcing me to walk to him, so I step around the desk. At the same time, Shane pushes off the doorjamb, and before I can prepare for the impact, he’s not only striding toward me, he’s radiating that dark energy I’d noted after his meeting with his brother. That’s where I rank now.
Too soon, and not soon enough, he’s in front of me, too close considering Jessica’s watching us. For several beats, we just stand there, him towering over me, big, broad, and intimidatingly in command in ways beyond who he is in this building.
He offers me the folder. “It’s all yours,” he says, his voice low, terse.
I reach for it and he doesn’t let it go, holding my stare as he adds, “And now we’re done here, Ms. Stevens.”
Ms. Stevens. I didn’t even know he knew my last name. The formality, along with the certainty that his statement has nothing to do with the contract and everything to do with him being done with me, cuts like glass, despite that being my necessary goal. I tell myself to politely say thank you, but I just can’t. I nod and he releases the folder, allowing me to turn and walk away. And somehow I manage to do just that: walk, calmly and professionally, even though the explosion of emotions inside me has me ready to launch myself forward and get to the bathroom before they get the best of me.
I exit the hallway to the lobby, wave when the receptionist greets me, and keep moving, exiting the offices, to the exterior section of the floor. I cut to the bathroom to the right of the elevators. Shoving open the door, I pass three empty stalls and enter the final larger one, and lock myself inside before sinking against the door. My chest is tight, the ball of emotions I’ve been suppressing for months building there, threatening an eruption I can’t have now. This has to wait until I’m out of here, but really, it’s so appropriate that secrets and lies have forced me to Denver and now they’re tearing me apart while I’m here.
Pressing my hand to my face, I shove hair from my eyes, only to have the folder fall to the ground, the contract slipping out. I squat and grab it and my gaze catches on the name “Nina Thompson” and the conversation I overheard last night comes slamming back into my mind. I told you Shane would buy the Nina Thompson story.
The exterior door opens, jolting me into shoving the paperwork into the folder and standing. Footsteps sound and I move to the back wall to avoid being seen.
“Emily.”
I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of Jessica’s voice. “I’m in here,” I say, but make no move to open the door.
“You okay?” she asks, now at the other side of my stall.
“Yes,” I lie, because if she believes it, maybe I will too. “Of course.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Okay. That went well.
“I buzzed Brandon Senior,” she continues. “I told him he’d have the contract within an hour to buy you some time. Open the door.”
“Not yet.”
She’s silent a few beats. “How do you know Shane?”
“I … What?”
“Obviously there was something between you two and it didn’t start here.”
She’s direct and in a world wrapped in lies, I actually respect that about her. I inhale and open the door. “I don’t know how to answer.”
“He trusts me. You can too.”
“Has he told you?”