“Clear, but went in the wrong direction.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
He glances at a guy walking, keeping his mouth clamped closed until he passes. In a hushed voice, he says, “Warner is his own worst enemy sometimes. He might have said one thing, but he misses you.”
His persistence is persuasive, causing my heart to ache for a man who broke it, but I can’t fall into that trap. Warner and I had so many opportunities to fix what was built on quicksand, but we didn’t. It was always easier to ignore than go back and revisit what we had done wrong. Ever since I left his penthouse, he’s been passing by the restaurant like he has business in the area when it’s obvious he’s just spying. I’ve had to reckon with that in my own way. He’s not crossed any boundaries, but his presence, even in the vicinity, makes it hard to put him behind me when he keeps popping up.
The real rub is hearing how he misses me because the way I’ve been missing him has been devastating. I’m shattered after I see him, reopening wounds that are never given time to heal properly. “I’ll think about?—”
“Jimmy?” The warmth of that voice coats my insides, calming the gymnastics class currently being taught in my stomach. I would have expected the opposite.
When Jimmy shifts, I’m exposed, coming face-to-face with the man I thought I could walk away from and leave in the past. That hasn’t happened. I think about him more than I should, considering how things ended.
Warner stands outside an open office, staring at me, and reminding me of how he would stare at me when I first came home with him. I’m sure the shock of seeing me now matches the same feeling he had back then.
I didn’t expect to see him, but I knew the potential was out there. Why does he look more handsome than I remember, especially when I thought he was already perfect? His hair is a little longer—not by much but enough to be unruly, which is so damn sexy and has me wishing I could run my fingers through it. Like he is now. It’s the vest he’s wearing with no jacket that I can’t get over the most. It’s almost like he sensed me coming by and pulled out all the stops. He says, “My arm’s not broken.”
He was never one for small talk. “Looks good.”
“It’s skinny compared to my other one, but I was once told I’m a little doughy.” A lopsided grin lifts his cheek.
“You were never doughy. Whoever said that lied to you.”
“Mmm.” He nods, pressing his lips together. “I suspected as much, but good to hear.”
“So,” Jimmy says with a thunderous clap, “I’m here to drag you out for a beer, but I can meet you down there.”
Warner chuckles. “Last time you came to the office like this, I never made it to the bar.”
“I’ll come looking if that happens. Or better yet, Delaney can make sure you arrive safe and sound.” He glances at me. “Does that work for you?”
It’s a terrible idea, like me standing here. Too late to turn around now, and it doesn’t seem like I have much choice but to babysit the CEO. Since I’m not looking to make a scene at Warner’s office, I reply, “I’ll take care of him.” The words come so naturally. As odd as it feels to admit, I’ve missed caring for him. Since he’s healed from the concussion and the broken arm, I’m not sure I’d have a place in his life anymore.
Jimmy nods, looking from Warner to me and then back at him again. “I’ll see you at the bar.”
I’m curious if it’s the same bar where he once took me, or if he’s had the nerve to go back for a burger. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at my behavior. I was pushing hard to trigger him every chance I got. Looking back, that plan didn’t even make logical sense, but I sure was committed to it.
When Jimmy walks away, I’m left standing there on my own. I pull the velvet box from my bag and take a few steps closer, holding it out in front of me. “I can’t keep this.”
His gaze dips to the box. When his stunning blue eyes land back on me, he asks, “Why not?”
“Because it’s real.”
He blinks twice, but I see the connection isn’t made. “I’m going to need more,Sas—Delaney. What else would it be?”
“Not real. Even if you did believe I was your wife when you gave it to me, you didn’t remember who I was. So why would you buy a stranger something so expensive?”
“We were going to an event, and I wanted you to have something to wear.”
I’d been so busy staring at him that I missed the set of eyes on us from a nearby desk until I glanced out of my periphery. Swallowing becomes harder as my throat thickens from having an audience. I hold it out to him again, coming closer in hopes he’ll take it, and whisper, “I appreciate the gift, but I hope you kept the receipt.”
“I didn’t, so I guess you’re stuck with it.”
“Warner . . .” I don’t know what I’m even saying. I feel as disconnected from him as he was to the idea of my returning the necklace. I thought I hated him when I walked out of his apartment, but I hate this distance between us more.
He angles closer. “Can we talk in my office?” he whispers.
I hesitate. This isn’t how the return of the necklace played out in my head. I wasn’t prepared for a conversation with valid points or comebacks. The details of how we came together and why we broke up have become hazier with each week that passes, other than one thing that led to another and lies were told.
