Page 28 of Brassy Bigwig

“She hates you, Dimitrios Andino, with a passion, and she’s going to quit. She has two interviews next week. You have a very small window of opportunity here, D. I think you need to get on the phone ASAP, and come clean with her.”

“Yeah…” I say, as another realization hits me. Hard.

She’s known the dickhead me for longer than the me I showed her in Greece. Once she finds out, what if she can’t look past the way I’ve been treating her?

Fuck.

“I’m sending her number through to you now.”

“Thanks, Dex. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, man. Good luck, and let me know how it goes.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

As I hang up the call, I think about everything Dex just told me. I do have a small window to connect with her and make things right. And I want to make things right with her.

I pull up the photo I took of her wrapped in a sheet in my bed on the night we spent together. She’s asleep, her hair is like a messy halo around her head. She looks sated and absolutely the most radiant thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

A phone call doesn’t feel like the right way to handle this situation. She needs more. She deserves more. Placing my phone back on my desk, I stand and walk to the small bar on the other side of my office. As I pour myself a couple fingers of bourbon, I look out toward the sea. I never thought I would want to leave Hermosa Beach, but Dex was right. I’m incredibly lonely out here by myself.

I think about seeing Genevieve—Chloe—again and my heart races. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt when I woke up in an empty bed the morning after our date. The only trace of her she’d left behind was the smell of her perfume on my sheets and her desire on my fingers.

I’ve been toying with the idea of moving to New York for quite some time, especially after Kendra, but I couldn’t picture myself packing up and leaving the beach behind. With this latest bit of news, however…

Yes. Yes, I think it is time for a change of scenery.

I can take my jet and have Captain Percival follow behind with The Cerulean.

Walking back to my desk, I place my highball glass down and pull up my email.

Chloe—

I need to take the rest of the week off. Reschedule all of my meetings for next week.

—D.A.

Part of me wants to change her name to Genevieve and make her sweat for the next few days, but I won’t do that. I’d rather see the look on her face when she realizes who I am. Will she look past the asshole I’ve been and see the man I was in Greece? Or have I pushed myself past the point of redemption?

I don’t know what’s going to happen, but one thing is for certain.

I’m not going to let her run from me twice.

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