Page 80 of The Payback Plan
The room was lit only by the glow from the TV but it was enough to highlight his disgustingly chiselled cheekbones and ridiculously long eyelashes.
Paige sighed. ‘She said it wasfine.’
He sucked in air through his teeth as he grimaced. ‘Sheesh. That’s not good.’
‘No,’ she agreed glumly. It might not have been the loud bust up that Oliver had predicted but it could well be a quiet one.
‘Hey.’ He slid his arm around her and it was the most natural thing in the world to drop her head to his shoulder. ‘I might not have agreed with your course of action but that took real guts, Paige. Kudos to you.’
His admiration was appreciated but it wasn’t a magic wand either.
A tear welled in her eye and spilled over and she dashed it away as she lifted her head off his shoulder and shrugged his arm away. ‘I’m going to head to bed. I’m knackered.’ It wasn’t like she’d done anything remotely physical for the majority of the day but emotional upheaval always left her wrecked.
He nodded, regarding her for long moments. ‘You want some company tonight? I don’t mean,’ he hastened to add, ‘sex. I just mean…’ He cupped the side of her face and traced the damp path of her tear with his thumb. ‘A shoulder to cry on.’
Paige couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to curl up with Oliver and feel sorry for herself. But she didn’t get to do that in the comfort of his arms when she wasn’t the injured party. And besides that, at some stage through the night, she may well seek something more than comfort from him and she’d already screwed up enough with Bella, she wouldn’t compound her guilt any further by continuing to sleep with Oliver under false pretences.
Not when she may well be falling for him.
Declining his offer, Paige took herself to bed. Lying on her side in the dark, she fired off a quick PM to Bella.
Bella, I just… I don’t know what to say other than how sorry I am. Your friendship means so much to me. I hate that I’ve jeopardised that.
Then she turned off her phone and succumbed to a crying jag.
* * *
Oliver was in the media room continuing his trawl through the boxes he’d brought back from London the following afternoon. He hadn’t realised how long it would take for him to sort through it all. But each document, each piece of paper from a restaurant receipt to a playbill to an old script with scribbles in the margins, was a potential footnote in his relationship with his father and he pored over each and every one.
He hadn’t found the deeper answers he thought he might to his father’s complete self-involvement, just more pieces of the puzzle that was Roger Prendergast. But it was fascinating nonetheless to discover pieces of his old man, one titbit at a time and if nothing else the information he’d gleaned had sparked memories and directed his next lot of dictation.
And, at least for now it was keeping his mind off Paige who had looked so utterly dejected last night and wasn’t looking that much better today. But she was inpeach modeas he’d come to think of it – scanning, electronically entering and cataloguing the papers he’d kept aside from the boxes – and he’d learned not to disturb her when she was in the zone.
Her laser focus and single-minded attention to detail was the exact opposite of the woman who had created such irritating disorder in his life for the last six weeks. It was such a jolting contrast but also somehow the norm now. All part of the delightfully exasperating conundrum of Paige.
Who was never far from his thoughts. Whose name resonated like a drum beat in his blood. Who he’d crossed a line with – and not just physically. But in other ways that overwhelmed him if he thought too much about it. For the first time ever there was a woman in his life who he couldn’t define his feelings for, couldn’t put into a neat box. A woman who had made it perfectly clear yesterday she’d never contemplated a future with him.
Don’t be ridiculous… This situation has always been temporary.
At the time, it had slid right off his shoulders because he’d been in the midst of convincing her not to do something stupid and it hadn’t seemed important. But the longer he’d sat with it, the more her quick dismissal tangled him in knots.
As if his thoughts weren’t fevered enough, his phone rang.
Bella.
He’d tried to call her before he’d hit the sack last night because it had felt like the right thing to do. He owed her an apology –anotherapology. Except there’d been no answer and frankly, he’d been relieved. They’d spoken and messaged a few times since the non-wedding, all of which, apart from the first one had been painfully civil.
But he wasn’t so sure that would be the case this time.
Oliver took a deep steadying breath as he tapped the screen. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ she replied.
Her voice broke a little and Oliver’s guilt flared hot, tightening his ribs and making it hard to catch a breath. ‘God, B… I’msosorry.’
‘I know,’ she murmured tremulously after several long beats.
‘She didn’t… we didn’t…’ Oliver trailed off unable to finish his sentence. What could he possibly say to justify what had happened.
