She swallowed her cookie and wiped the crumbs from her lip. “You’re right, Robby, no one will. Because your love was fucked up, and it fucked me up for a long time. I’m now . . . finally . . . unfucked up. And I plan to stay that way. So good-bye. Good day. If I ever see you again, it’ll be too soon.”
She grabbed Brent’s arm, wanting to make a graceful exit—a flouncing off—and he aided her, shooting a glare over his shoulder at Robby and then walking around the back of the building. As they turned the corner, she heard Jack say, “Alex told you the situation. Now you need to leave.”
She didn’t hear any more, because she didn’t want to. She led Brent into the back room, where he watched her warily, probably thinking she was going to collapse or burst into tears.
But instead she threw her hands in the air, gave a loud whoop, and then shuffled her feet to imaginary celebration music in her head.
Brent laughed and began to clap as she danced, which was exactly what they were doing when Jack and Cal walked into the room, stopping dead at the sight.
Alex stopped dancing and smiled at them. “I did it. I fucking did it. I wasn’t even scared, I was just annoyed. That asshole doesn’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”
Jack didn’t seem as excited as she was. “How did he even know you were here?”
She shrugged. “Probably when I was in the newspaper.”
His eyes narrowed. “Damn journalists.”
“No, it’s okay,” Alex said. “Really, it’s okay. It felt amazing to tell him to go to hell, to show him he didn’t have control over me.”
Brent threw an arm around her shoulders. “You really held your own. I’m proud of you.”
She poked him in the ribs. “I’m proud of me too.”
When Brent let her go, Cal was in front of her, and he pulled her into an awkward hug that she returned with vigor. He grunted when she squeezed. “I’m proud of you too.”
Jack seemed reluctant to celebrate, his gaze darting to the door as if Robby was going to burst in any minute. Finally he sighed. “I don’t like people threatening me or my business or my family.”
Jack always chose his words carefully, so she didn’t miss what he said. For the first time in a long time, the back of her eyes prickled. “Aw, Jack.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him but he stayed stiff, and huffed a little. She smiled against his chest.
When she let him go, his face was flushed. And then he clapped his hands and barked, “Back to work!”
He walked out and she grinned at his back. Yeah, everything was pretty good.
Now, if only she could forget about the British man who had thawed her heart. If only.
SPENCER FLIPPED UP the collar of his thin trench against the spring breeze and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his face as he walked on the sidewalk of the meatpacking district in New York on his way to meet his boss.
The winter had lasted forever. And winter in New York sucked. Snow made everyone grumpy, and it seemed to turn gray as soon as it hit the ground. He’d found himself wondering what Tory looked like in the winter. He’d snuck peeks at their local newspaper online and smiled when he saw photos of local kids having a snowball fight, sled tracks on the hill in the background.
But it was spring now. And he’d avoided his boss long enough, as the negotiations for the Payton land finally ground to a halt.
Spencer was the victor, he guessed. Penny filed for divorce, and Nick resigned. Penny had showed up at his house and drank herself in a stupor. The only time he’d ever seen her drunk. She said she knew Nick had changed, that he wasn’t whom she originally married, but she thought if she loved as hard and pure as she could for both of them, it would last.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case.
When she passed out, Spencer tucked her under a blanket on his couch, and they never spoke of it. The next time he saw her at work, she was poised as usual and said she was planning to be on her own for a while. She already had a weekend spa retreat planned with girlfriends and another vacation to the beach scheduled with her children. If Spencer was honest, he hadn’t seen Penny this happy in a while. He was proud of her for standing on her own two feet. And he hoped Alex was doing the same thing, back in Tory.
Spencer pushed open the door to the Standard Hotel and went up the elevator to the patio overlooking the Hudson River.
Richard Moore sat at a table by himself, chin propped on his fingers, eyes gazing out at the water.
Spencer nodded to the waiter, who filled his water glass as he took a seat opposite his boss.
“Hello, Richard.” Spencer shrugged out of his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair.
“Spencer.” He pointed to a menu on the side of the table. Spencer held up a hand, indicating he wasn’t hungry.
Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded.
The waiter came over to take Spencer’s order. “Just an iced tea, please.”
“Unsweetened okay?”
“Yes.”
Spencer focused back on Richard, who was watching him closely. Spencer cleared his throat. “Sorry to hear about Penny’s marriage.”
Richard’s face didn’t move. “Me too.”
The waiter returned quickly and Spencer sipped his tea and waited.
The other man drummed his fingers on the table. “So I’m sure you’ve been waiting for months, but I’d like to officially offer you the promotion as the head of the new development team.”
Spencer cracked a piece of ice between his molars. He knew this had been coming, and he’d thought long and hard about his answer. He’d practiced in front of the mirror, in the shower, in the car, how he would answer. Each time, he said something different. Each time, he decided something different.
Sitting here now, in what was quintessentially New York, the job he’d always wanted on the table in front of him on a silver platter, he couldn’t imagine taking it.
He couldn’t imagine staying here, working a job he no longer had the passion for. That wasn’t fair to Richard, or his coworkers. And most of all, it wasn’t fair to himself.
He cleared his throat. “I appreciate the offer of the promotion, but I’m going to have to decline.”
Richard’s face finally moved. His jaw worked and his eyebrows lifted slightly. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve decided I don’t have the drive I used to for that job, and I don’t think it’s fair to anyone for me to take it.”
Richard blinked at him, then his face changed, completely softening as he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Spencer, is everything all right? Penny said some things happened on your last trip.”
Things happened. That was a very simplistic way of saying it. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m scared to death, but I’m okay.”
“So you’re leaving Royalty Suites?” Richard asked. “I’d hate to lose you completely. I’ll give you some time off, but is there another position I can offer you?”
Spencer smiled and shifted his gaze to the sun reflected off the water. He sighed and said, “Well, actually, there is . . . ”
Chapter Eighteen
ALEX STEPPED OUT of her shower, wrapped one white towel around her body, and twisted another in her wet hair. She wiped the condensation off the mirror and squinted at her reflection. She needed her eyebrows waxed. And she should be wearing more moisturizer. She grabbed her lotion and smoothed it over her face, arms, chest, and legs.
As she finished up, her doorbell rang. She ran into her bedroom, glancing at the clock and frowning. Ivy was coming over to drop off a shirt she’d borrowed on her way out on a date with Brent, but she wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour or two.
Alex didn’t bother getting dressed as she padded to the front door in her bare feet and swung it open, saying, “Hey, you’re early.”
The last word was a whisper. Because it wasn’t Ivy standing in front of her door. It was Spencer. Leslie Michael Spencer.
He wore a Henley with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of dark jeans. He pushed his sunglasses up into his dark hair and dropped a bag he held at his side on the floor. “Um, I’m late actually. About six months too late.” She clutched the towel knotted at her chest, realizing now she stood in front of him practically naked. He wasn’t looking anywhere but her eyes, though. He held her gaze firmly, if a little hesitantly. “Hello, Alex.”
Her mouth dropped open, and every word she tried to say dried up in her throat. He looked better than ever. More relaxed. Maybe a little more salt and pepper around his ears, but incredibly handsome nonetheless.
She’d convinced herself for months she was over him, but that clearly was a lie, because as he stood in front of her, all she wanted to do was fall into his arms.
His expression faltered a little. “May I . . . come inside?”
She nodded and stepped back, still clutching her towel, as he picked up his bag, walked through the door, and shut it behind him. He placed his bag on the floor at his feet.
They stood in her foyer staring at each other, and she scrunched her toes against the floor.
He licked his lips. “Please say something so I can gauge whether you are horrified to see me or not.”
One word finally came out. “No.”