“Is it too early for wine?” I ask.
“It’s wine o’clock somewhere.”
While Ed disappears to the kitchen, I pick up the griffin wings again. My grandma had taught me to crochet and counting rows and stitches helps calm my thoughts, although not enough that I don’t jump at the sound of a cell phone ringing.
I breathe out a sigh of relief when I see Ed’s phone light up on the opposite end of the couch. It was never going to be Duke reaching out to me. We don’t leave a trail of calls or messages that some creepy Bratva hack might stumble upon. It’s as if our relationship never existed.
Ed reappears, wine bottle in hand as he picks up his cell. Aiming a rictus grin in my direction, he connects the call and immediately launches the phone at me. It lands face down in my lap.
“Take the call for me, I’m busy!” he yelps before scurrying back into the kitchen.
There’s only one person who’d get that reaction, and I pick up the cell like it’s a live grenade. Am I allowed to hang up someone else’s call from their boss?
Fuck. I was going to have to face this at some point, and at least it’s not in person. In his office.
“Hello?” I ask as steadily as I can muster.
There’s a long silence. Ha! He wasn’t expecting me to answer. This is more awkward for him than it is for me.
I lift my chin and adopt a professional tone. “Did you want Ed?”
The voice that answers back is deep enough to send the vibration down to my traitorous core. “No, Angel. I want you.”
“If it’s a work request, put it in an email and I’ll deal with it tomorrow when I’m in the office. The DeVere office,” I clarify.
“We need to talk.”
I’m not intimidated by the edge his voice has acquired. “Funny, I could have sworn it was Ed’s phone that rang.”
“Because I knew you’d ignore my calls, and either Ed was going to be with you, or he could get to you,” he says. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Grace. You will be at my office first thing tomorrow or I’ll come find you, by which point I’m going to be mightily pissed off.”
“Is that supposed to frighten me?” I ask, adopting his cold tone. “You seem to forget that I’ve had plenty of practice with the, ‘we need to talk’ conversations from Cameron, enough to know that promises will be made and promises will be forgotten. But do you know what isn’t going to be forgotten? Having to watch you and Katarina–”
My stupid voice catches on too much emotion. There’s pressure at the back of my nose. I will not cry. It was a one-night stand. I will get over him. Just as soon as I can convince him to keep away.
“Grace, it killed me too,” he says, softer now. Coaxing. Cajoling. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apology or more empty promises. I appreciate you don’t like hurting people, Duke and that’s part of the reason you haven’t ended things with Katarina.” My swallow is painful. Heartrending. “It’s also the reason I have to be the one to end us.”
I press my fingers and thumb against my eyes to stem the tears. They fall anyway.
“I’ll stay at DeVere’s long enough to see the Brimstage project to completion. At least then I’ll have something to show on my CV when I move on. And I will move on. Weboth will,” I say with more conviction than the situation deserves. “If you need updates in the meantime, I’d prefer email. I’ll only meet you in person if it’s a team meeting.”
“You seem to have thought of everything.”
I pinch my nose, trying not to sniffle down the phone. I don’t want him to know I’m crying. “I have.”
Duke leaves a pause. “No, Angel. You didn’t factor in me not letting you go.”
Oh, I did, and I’m prepared for the push back. “Listen to our recording, Duke. I suggest you fast forward to around 12 minutes 32 seconds when the man I thought I was getting to know gave me some good advice. I’m taking it.”
Chapter 18
Grace
“Don’t ever settle for anyone who isn’t going to make you the center of his universe. Don’t settle for anything less than complete. Fucking. Adoration.”
Duke had chanted those words like a promise, driven home with each deep thrust into me. I’d listened to it a hundred times in the last year, and I’d fantasized that Duke would deliver on that promise. But a fantasy is all it was ever going to be.
