Page 50 of Love.V2
“Hmm?” I asked, only half-paying attention. I did this often enough that it was down to a science, but I double-checked everything just in case.
“The tickets, Dylan.”
Tess sounded worked up enough to finally snag my attention. She’d been talking about tickets? My brain raced as I looked at her, perched on the chair next to the fireplace in our master suite.Airplane tickets?
Her brows flattened. “For Fiona Winston!”
Oh.Those tickets.“I know.”
“Do you?”
I slid the piles of clothes into the packing cubes for my beat-up suitcase. “Yes. Doors open at six-thirty, so we have to eat fast.” This, at least, I remembered, because making a reservation at the nicest French restaurant in the city for five p.m. had made me feel geriatric.
Tess didn’t say anything, but I could feel her eyes on me. I’d bet money when I looked back at her, she’d have that carefully blank expression, where none of her facial features moved, except her eyes snapped like she was mentally sharpening daggers behind them.
I looked up.
Yep. There it was.
“Tess, I know. We’ve talked about it so many times.” Too many times. Her face didn’t so much as twitch. I sighed, reminding myself that it was for her birthday, so it didn’t matter if she asked me to retrieve the damn moon. I would make it happen.
I dropped a stack of shirts, skirting around the bed. “My flight gets in that morning. I’ll nap, we’ll hit an early dinner, and be rubbing elbows with Ms. Winston by six-thirty-one.”
She nearly resisted as I pulled her from her chair and into my arms. She felt stiff when I wrapped around her.
“I’m serious, Dylan. This is important to me.”
Irritation pricked. “Well, so is this multi-million dollar Japanese deal that will keep a roof over our heads for the next ten years.” I tugged on her ponytail to soften the bite of my words. Her flat expression held firm. Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say.
I wasn’t in the mood to fight. Instead, I tried for a quick, close-mouthed kiss. Because that’s what we did these days. I held in a sigh.
“Angel, I know it’s important. I’ll be there.” Something flickered in her expression. Hope? Relief? It was enough of an opening that I leaned down again. I still had some time before the car picked me up for the airport. My tongue teased her bottom lip. Maybe we could…
She drew away. “You promise?”
“Yes,” I bit, pulling away. So much for that. It was probably for the best, anyway. I wanted to take one more look at that contract beforeI lost Wi-Fi during takeoff. My mind wandered down my miles-long mental to-do list. A few more packing cubes went into the suitcase.
“I wish this trip wasn’t right on my birthday.” I wasn’t sure how an accusation could be delivered so softly, but Tess pulled it off.
“I can’t set my work schedules around my girlfriend’s birthday.”
“I know.”
My head shook. I really did not want to fight today. Or not fight. Whatever happened when we said things that pissed the other person off and then hardly looked at each other for a few days. I didn’t want to get on a plane to the other side of the world knowing she was mad at me, but we were already heading in that direction. Might as well lean in.
“I don’t think you do know.” I knew for a fact she didn’t, actually. Not about the pressure I was under or how much it took to make this house,this room,a reality. My feet shifted on the white carpet. “Our branch didn’t hit our sales goals for this year, and the London office relies on our international contracts to stay billable. People’s jobs are riding on my closing this deal. My bonus…our trip to Aruba? Doesn’t exist if I can’t make this happen.”
Another cube stuffed into the case. Another. Sometimes her silence was so loud, it filled up every inch of our four-story condo.
“I’d rather have you here for my birthday than have a trip to Aruba.”
I balled my hands into fists. I. Didn’t. Want. To. Fight. Today. My jaw clenched. “It’s a good thing I’ll be here for your birthday, then. And I’ll close the deal. And you can have both.” The great thing about a smile was that you could still grit your teeth while you flashed it.
Another beat of silence stretched between us before she sighed and walked over to the dresser. I tensed as she got closer, lunging when I saw what she was reaching for.
“What are you doing?” I had to hold back a grimace. My sharp tone made her freeze. Tess was a deer in headlights if she thought someone was mad at her. I should have been cooler, but I’d panicked.
“I know you like to pack the socks last…” Her eyes darted between me and my sock drawer. “I thought since I was closer…”
