I’m so full of shit. I’m also full of urgency. To fucking leave.
To make sure I don’t screw it up with my wife. As if getting to her faster would change anything. Jesus, I’m pussy-whipped.
I jump into the elevator and wink at scowling Roxy before the door closes. I whip out my phone and text my wife.
Get naked now. I’m leaving work.
I stare at the screen, waiting for the three dancing dots, but there is no reply.
You better not have started without me, or there will be consequences, Mrs. Stone.
Still nothing. An unfamiliar sense of insecurity—one I really don’t like—washes over me. I call her. No answer. What the fuck?
I jump into my Lambo and rev the engine,speeding from the garage and breaking all sorts of rules.
Until I merge into the traffic. Fucking gridlock.
What’s the point of having a fast car when you have to crawl down the street with other cars and buses?
I try to call Cora twice more, not even caring to hide my desperation. Fucking Declan, planting the consuming thought.
Calm down, you idiot.
It’s not like I could have fucked it up between our texting and now. She must be taking a shower or something.
For the first time I use the valet parking at my hotel, throwing the keys at the attendant and marching through the lobby like my ass is on fire.
I take the stairs to the tenth floor to work off the pent-up energy. Swiping my card, I open the door and stop in my tracks.
“What are you doing here?”
And where is Cora?
Sissy unfolds herself from the sofa and saunters to me. “Surprise!” She opens her arms, expecting a hug.
I dodge her, my eyes darting around.
“Don’t be a grouch, darling. Your maid let me in. She’s been taking her sweet time tidying up yourbedroom. I asked her to change the sheets.” Sissy wraps her arms around me.
“Fuck.” I peel her off me. “Go home, Sissy.”
I slide the double door to the bedroom open and blink a few times, adjusting to the darkness. The blinds are drawn, but even in the shadows of the room, I spot her immediately.
Cora sits on a bench by the window, her arms wrapped around her shins, her chin propped on her knees.
She turns to me. I can’t see her expression, which only deepens the sense of desperation. I want to eat the distance, take her in my arms, and explain this shit show, but something stops me. I observe her from my spot, unsure what to do.
The light floods the room. “Oh my God,” Sissy squeals. “No wonder she took so long. I’m calling the manager. You can’t take a nap on a job.”
“Sissy,” I growl.
Even with the lights on, Cora’s face is half-hidden behind her forearms, and I can’t figure out if she is pissed, sad, disappointed, or all of the above.
She swings her legs over and stands up, her expression unreadable. “I’m not on a job, and I take my naps whenever I want. But I guess you kids need to catch up, so I’ll leave you to it.”
She eyes me with… is that a smirk? She certainly doesn’t look pissed. That’s good. Isn’t it? Or is her indifference a sign of not caring at all? I swallow around the lump in my throat.
“Cora…” I extend my arm like I can stop her from leaving.
