He’s not coming.
I’m done being his puppet.I’m done playing the happy fiancée just because he holds that damn loan over my head.
In one last-ditch effort, I call him again.
Still nothing.
I shove my phone into my purse and push back my chair.The sudden movement scrapes against the polished floor, a jarring sound in this refined atmosphere.Jake appears at my side, his earlier joviality completely gone, replaced by a worried frown.
“Is everything alright, Miss Beckett?”he asks, his voice hushed.
“I have to go.”My words are clipped.
I can’t bear to utter another lie.To pretend that this is anything other than what it is…
The end.
If James won’t come to me, I’ll go to him.
I flee the restaurant, the rush of cold air a slap in the face.A fire of impatience ignites in my gut, propelling me forward, keys clutched in my hand.My car is just down the block, and I know exactly where I’m going.
James’s office.
The lobby of James’s office building is a monument to cold efficiency, amplified by the after-hours stillness.Towering walls of polished grey stone reflect the dimmed light.The floor stretches out before me, broken only by a single, low bench upholstered in a severe black-and-white.On either side of the security desk are two banks of elevators, their sleek doors gleaming dully.
Behind the stark white desk, a lone guard sits motionless, his gaze fixed on a screen.The usual workday bustle is replaced by an unsettling quiet, broken only by the hum of the AC and the distant whir of a vacuum.This space is the antithesis of my café.A perfect reflection of the man I’m here to confront.
I hesitate at the edge of the vast lobby.Taking a deep breath, I force myself to move forward, my heels echoing in the near-empty space.With each step, the knot of anxiety in my stomach tightens.
This is it.
Time for the performance of a lifetime.
I approach the desk, offering the guard a smile I pray looks confident.“Good evening,” I say, my voice surprisingly steady.“I’m here to see James Devlin.”
“Mr.Devlin didn’t mention any visitors.And it’s after hours, ma’am.”The guard, a burly man, sweeps his gaze over the deserted lobby.
“Oh, I know.”I flash my engagement ring, letting it catch the light.“Fiancée.I’m not here on business.We’re running late for dinner and I’m here to pull him away, as usual.”I force a light giggle and an eye-roll, praying my act is believable.
He glances at the ring, then back at me, his eyes narrowing slightly.An uncomfortable lull settles as he lifts the phone to his ear and presses a few numbers.
“Nobody’s picking up,” he says after a long minute.
My mind races.
Doing my best to maintain composure, I wave a dismissive hand.“Oh, that’s typical James.Probably just stepped away.Don’t worry about it.”Before he can protest, I start heading purposefully towards the nearest bank of elevators.“I know how focused he gets when he’s drowning in paperwork.”
“Uhh, ma’am.”
Busted.
He points to the elevator bank on the opposite side.“Wrong elevators.Those are the ones that will take you up to his floor.”
Relief hits me so hard I almost sag, but I remember my act.“Oh!Of course, silly me.Thanks.Long day!”I offer a slightly manic giggle as I change direction, crossing to the other side.
To my immense relief, a car arrives almost immediately, the doors sliding open with a hiss and whooshing shut, sealing me in the confined box.
The ascent is slow.
