Instead, I force myself to walk.
I walk down the wide corridor, my gaze fixed on the elevator bank at the far end, passing Janice at her massive desk.
“Have a nice day,” she says, her voice chirpy and professional.
I give her a single, curt nod, not daring to meet her eyes, and continue on.
After pressing the down button, I stand stock-still, staring at my distorted reflection in the polished brass of the elevator doors.
Did I really just say all that?
The elevator arrives with a light chime.The doors slide open.I step inside.The ride down is a blur.I don’t think.I don’t breathe.I just hold myself together, my focus narrowed to a single point:
Get.To.The.Car.
The doors open to the dim quiet of the underground parking lot.My heels echo loudly on the concrete.A frantic rhythm.I spot Matthew’s car and make a beeline for it.I reach the trunk and let the heavy stack of petitions drop from my arms.They land with a loud, messy thump on the trunk lid.
And with that sound, the breath I’ve been holding since I walked out of that office finally leaves my lungs in a long, shuddering, ragged exhale.
My shoulders slump.My legs feel like they might give out.
I brace my hands on the metal of the car, drop my head, and whisper to the empty lot.
“Holy shit.”
FIFTY THREE
I DON’T KNOW how long I stand there, braced against the car.My forehead is pressed to the tall stack of petitions on the trunk.The entire confrontation with Harold Bancroft replays in my mind on a horrifying loop.My breathing is loud and ragged, my body trembling with the remnants of the adrenaline rush.
A distant sound penetrates the noise in my mind: steady shoes on concrete, growing closer until they stop right beside me.Then, the gentle warmth of a hand on my back.
Matthew’s simple touch is my undoing.
A gasp escapes me.I straighten up instantly, turning on wobbly legs to bury my face in the solid wall of his chest, my palms flat against the fine wool of his suit jacket.“Oh my God, Matt, I blew it!”My words are muffled against him.
The heavy thud of his briefcase hitting the concrete is followed immediately by his arms wrapping around me.He pulls me in tight, as if trying to absorb my tremors into his own body.One hand cradles the back of my head, holding me steady.
“I should have kept my mouth shut,” I continue, my voice tortured, my words tumbling out in a frantic rush.“I went too far, didn’t I?What was I thinking?!”
Matthew just holds me, letting me unravel.Letting me pour all my panicked energy into the safety of his embrace until my words dissolve into shaky, calmer breaths.
My cheek rests against the steady beat of his heart.
Only then does he pull back.He cups my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze.His thumbs stroke my cheekbones.A soothing gesture that calms the last of my frantic energy.
His gaze searches mine as a smile begins to form on his lips.“I was thinking,” he begins, his voice full of amusement, his eyes alight with pride, “if this whole café thing doesn’t work out, I highly recommend a career in law.”
“Don’t say that!”I smack his upper arm, a disbelieving laugh escaping me.
“I’m serious!”He chuckles, his smile widening.“You were magnificent in there.”He unlocks the car and opens the back door, placing half the pile of papers on the backseat.
“What does it matter if it ends up costing me the café?”The morbid realization comes out on a rush of air as I pick up the rest of the petitions and place them beside his.
The adrenaline is draining away, leaving a hollow, anxious feeling in its place.
A knowing look crosses Matthew’s face.“I wouldn’t declare defeat just yet.”
I pivot to face him, my heart giving a hopeful lurch.“Meaning…?”
