“I’d like to talk to Simon,” Nav said, pulling his hands away from the keyboard and turning to look at me. “I want to ask him some questions. Maybe have him sit here with me while I look things up and see if anything jogs his memory.”
“He’ll be here tomorrow.” When Nav smirked, I added, “Grace asked if he could come by and cut her hair.”
His smile didn’t drop; he just nodded and turned back to his computers. Shaking my head, I grabbed my bags on my way out and drove back to Simon’s place.
Chapter Eleven
Simon
The kitchen was empty when I came out of the bedroom. My first thought was that he’d left until I looked outside and saw him smoking on my back deck.
I hated the smell of cigarettes. I hated that he’d probably end up getting lung cancer because he refused to give them up. But what I hated most of all was how damn sexy he looked with a cigarette in his hand.
Holding it to his full lips and inhaling the nicotine, only to blow the smoke back out into the air with his eyes closed, as if it gave him some sort of release from the tension tied up in his body.
I wanted to be the thing that gave him that release.
I slid the door open. Tony never looked my way when I said, “Thank you for not smoking in the house.”
“You’re welcome,” he muttered back.
“I was going to make breakfast.” I paused, willing him to look my way, and when he didn’t, I asked, “Are you hungry?”
“No, I need to go to the clubhouse and get some clothes,” he said, putting out his cigarette against the patio floor.
“You don’t have to stay here,” I told him.
Tony stood up and turned my way. His eyes widened for a fraction, and I knew he read the emotion on my face. The tears I’d shed in the shower as I made the decision to finally let him go.
“You heard the judge. I’m responsible for you.”
“Where do you think I’m going to go, Tony?”
He crowded me against the doorway, pressing his body against mine. I swallowed the whimper that threatened to givehim the satisfaction he was looking for.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what he was doing. He ignored my question as he brushed past me, saying, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He grabbed his shirt and as he buttoned it, he surprised me when he said, “Unless you want to come with me?”
I considered it for only a second before I pushed off the doorway and shook my head. “No, I’ll stay here.”
I reached into the fridge to grab some eggs and bacon. His invitation wasn’t genuine; it was another consolation for the way he’d acted when he tried to seduce me into telling him where Sadie was and sneaking into my bed.
“Simon,” he said.
I waited for him to ask again. I laid my hands on the counter and stared at them as if they were the most important thing in my life at that moment. Because I knew if I looked at him, if I gave him any indication that I would give in, he would ask me again to come to the clubhouse.
And I would go.
Knowing he would ignore me. Knowing he would treat me as a client and not the man he loved. Knowing that going to the clubhouse wouldn’t change a damn thing.
But still, I asked, “What?” Knowing that if he asked me a second time, my resolve to end this would crumble.
But he didn’t ask.
“Never mind. I’ll be back soon.”
The soft click of the door closing echoed through my head like a gunshot. My head dropped with finality. My mother used to tell me,Simon, when one door closes, God opens another.I looked up at the ceiling.
