Page 44 of Just The Way You Aren't

I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth as I look at the mess on the floor. “You’re sure you don’t want me to clean that up?”

She shakes her head and waves me out of the kitchen. “Go see to your leaky bathroom. I’m sure there is a lot more cleanup to do there than here.”

I wince. “I’m afraid there might be.” Impulsively, I give hera hug. “I’ll be back soon. And, Mr. Katz, you need to hold the phone a little bit away from your face.”

“Oh, right.” He adjusts the phone and I see the scraggly hairs on his chin.

“Never mind.” I chuckle softly. “Goodbye, Mrs. Baumgartner.”

Mrs. Baumgartner waves from her doorway as I leave to go face disaster. I might not be able to fix whatever went wrong between Damien and me, but I could fix this. Damien had played his hand, shown his cards, and revealed where he stood.

Going forward, I’ll just meet him where he is. We are temporary business associates, nothing more. He gave me a good night that I will fantasize about for years to come, but to his face, I won’t let on that I’m not over him and that he hurt me.

I’m made of stronger stuff than that.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as I head back to my office to face the fresh disaster awaiting me there.

CHAPTER 15

DAMIEN

Can’t a man have a minute? I think angrily as Rhonda comes up to me with more papers to sign ‘urgently.’ It seems everything I’ve had to do the last few days is ‘urgent.’ When did my schedule become so ‘urgent’ all of a sudden?

All I want to do is call Willow. That’s all. One damn phone call. Is that really too much to ask?

Of course, if I’m honest with myself, I’m always ‘urgently’ busy. I used to like it that way. Now? It’s driving me fucking insane.

I’ve slept in my chair at work for three days straight, using the ensuite shower and dressing from the collection of clothes I keep in a wardrobe at the office. I’m not getting in my morning workouts. This is also pissing me off to no end. But not nearly as much as the fact that when I sit down to call or even just text Willow, something comes up. With great ‘urgency.’

I slash my signature across the papers more than sign them, then sit in my chair and pull out my phone.

Me:Willow,I

Rhonda pushes through my door. “Are the papers signed for me?”

I scowl at her. “Yes.”

She is impervious to my scowls. She always has been. She comes and snatches the papers off my pristine desk—nothing like the chaos of Willow’s—and looms over me. “Good,” she says after looking them over to make sure I’ve initialed and signed in all the right places. Not that I could have missed one. She’d sticky-tabbed every single spot. “There’s a board meeting happening right now. I didn’t have it on your schedule.”

My scowl deepens. “I didn’t call a board meeting.”

“Apparently, Mr. Rothchild did.” Rhonda sounds just about as happy about it as I am. “Someone has to give that man a swift kick in the can.”

What the hell is that asshole up to now? “Oh, trust me, Rhonda. One day, that person’s going to be me.” I vault to my feet, shove my phone back in my suit jacket pocket and start for the door.

“Save me a place in line,” she calls after me.

I stalk to the boardroom and shove open the doors, interrupting Alfred’s little coffee klatch. Half the board is gathered around him while the other half is staring at the ceiling, or anywhere but at me. I drag my chair back and sit down, glowering at every single one of them. “Is there a particular reason I wasn’t invited to this little pow-wow?”

Gladys at least has the integrity to look a little guilty. “We did tell Rhonda.”

“What? Five minutes ago? Don’t try to bullshit me,” I all but snarl.

Alfred looks very pleased with himself, and I realize I needto calm down. “We were just discussing Guardian Productions.”

“Yes, and?” I ask, my fury building.

“We were thinking maybe we should send someone else to negotiate with them,” he continues smoothly. “After all, your reputation of late?—”

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