Page 61 of While You're There
He recognized her declaration for what it was. A line had been drawn. There wouldn’t be any more griping around his dislike of Haas, of his displeasure in their friendship. Tori was giving him the choice: put the issue to rest for good, or prepare for this to be a perpetual problem. He wasn’t willing to let Haas come between him and his wife in any way, so there wasn’t even anything to consider. Accepting the other man’s presence in his wife’s life was the only way forward.
“There’s no part of me that doesn’t trust you, V. I was out of line earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I said about Fielding and Jake. Itwasa low blow, and I’m sorry.”
“I know. Thank you for apologizing.” She nodded her acceptance, her forehead moving against his.
“And I’m sorry our date night didn’t go as planned. I’ll make it up to you as soon as things settle down. Let’s go inside and eat before our food gets cold.”
They were able to enjoy an uninterrupted dinner after all, much to Rhett’s surprise. Now Tori was lounging on the sunroom couch behind him, sketching in one of her notebooks with her AirPods securely in place. Every now and then, she’d start absentmindedly humming along to whatever she was listening to. She didn’t even realize she was singing out loud thanks to the noise cancellation technology. It was adorable.
He rose up from his makeshift desk and circled the mahogany bar. He refilled his tumbler with his last drink of the night, then grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge for good measure. He looked over and watched Tori for a moment. She was completely engrossed in whatever she was sketching on the page. She’d changed out of her dress and into one of his old Archway Prep crewnecks as soon as they were done eating. The oversized sweatshirt just barely covered the top of her thighs, leaving her long, toned legs on full display along the couch.
He took a healthy swallow from his glass as he continued to watch her in reverence. It was hard to imagine that she could already be sick or that she could be sick sometime soon. She looked so healthy and vivacious from where he stood. But her follow-up tests had been inconclusive. Something wasn’t right, but they had caught it early. It was the in-between that was so damn hard to deal with. He knew that even if the cancer cells weren’t rapidly duplicating in her body, the constant worry about “what if” was already playing through her mind.
He watched her for another minute before he circled back around the bar and resumed his place on the bar stool. It was almost ten, and his team had finally left the office for the night. Quinn had logged back on once he got home, and together they’d spent the last two hours updating the carrier schedules for the rest of the month. They needed to get two more files updated on the shared drive, then they could finally call it a night, too.
He reached for his phone as soon as it started vibrating. But instead of Quinn’s name as expected, Chandler’s picture illuminated the screen.
Rhett snarled in disgust. This was the second time she had called him tonight. He knew what kind of calls came through on a Saturday night. What he didn’t know is why she wouldn’t take a hint and leave him the fuck alone.
He pressed the side button of his phone harder than necessary to send her to voicemail before he flipped the phone face down on the bar. He’d entered the first few characters of his password into his computer when his phone started buzzing again. He closed his eyes and steeled himself to look at his device. Maybe it was just a message coming through. Maybe it really was Quinn this time. He wished he could believe either alternative.
His gut instinct was right. She was calling him again.
“Fuck,” he muttered, knowing damn well he couldn’t turn his phone off for the night until he heard from his assistant.
“You okay, Ev?” Tori asked. He swiveled in his seat just in time to see her stand up and stretch her arms over her head. The full-body stretch left little to the imagination as his well-loved sweatshirt crept further up her thighs.
“Yeah, all good. Just waiting on one more update from Quinn, and then I can be really, truly done for the night and we can go to bed.”
She tipped her chin toward his phone as she approached the bar. “That wasn’t him?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, searching her eyes before he laid out the full truth. They had talked about Chandler, albeit weeks ago. Tori had assured him she trusted him to handle things. There wasn’t any reason not to tell her about the calls.
“That was actually Chandler,” he said, raising his eyebrows in frustration.
“Chandler? Really? Why would she call after all this time?”
Technically it had only been four weeks since he told Chandler he was getting married and to stop contacting him. But he recognized that it felt like longer. So much had happened so quickly over the last few weeks. It felt like a lifetime had already passed since then.
“This isn’t the first time she’s pulled this shit. She’s called me a few times recently, including once earlier tonight and twice just now.”
As if on cue, his phone started to vibrate again. He flipped it over but left it sitting on the bar, Chandler’s picture on display in contrast to the rich dark brown wood of the bar top.
“Rhett…”
There was concern in her voice. Not an untrusting concern, but a genuine concern. Something akin to worry.
“That’s the third time she’s called tonight?”
“Fourth, if you count earlier when we were out.”
Tori shifted from one leg to the other as she stared at his still-vibrating phone on the bar top. “What do you think she wants?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. It’s a game to her. A fucking game. If I had to guess, I bet she’s wasted at some bar right now, hitting my name over and over again just to mess with me.” He growled out an agitated breath as he ran his hand through his hair.
“I know things didn’t end on the best terms between you, but even if she wanted to mess with you, I can’t see her calling multiple times in a row. You should call her back.”
He shook his head in frustration, regretting telling Tori about the calls. He was so damn tired. He had worked himself to the brink of exhaustion, and he could still feel the lingering anger that had risen up when he saw Fielding at The Grille that night. He was in no position to call anyone back at this point. He just wanted to crawl into bed with his wife and go to sleep.
