Vanilla On Top(69)

“Get it out, you fool! Why didn’t you wait and let the tech guy at the phone store do it?”

I dump my coffee in the trash and fish through its contents for the chip. I stretch the phone cord to its limit, dragging the base across my desk in my haste. “You couldn’t have suggested that before telling me where it was located?”

“Don’t blame me! I’m not the one who broke her phone.”

I take a relieved breath as my fingers close over the tiny piece of plastic. “Got it! But it probably won’t work now will it?”

“Dunno. It might. Give it some time to dry out.”

“Might?” I choke at the end of the question. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I’ve heard uncooked rice helps.”

“What? How?”

“Absorbs the moisture.”

I climb up off the floor, the madness of the past twenty minutes exhausting me, and slump into my desk chair. So, if I had a bag of rice and a hairdryer I might be able to reach Tony. Tears gather again as I have no idea what to do.

“Heather? Are you okay?”

“No.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What a mess.”

“Do you know where he lives? Maybe he’s at home. You know…since he’s no longer working.”

“Great idea!” Hope zings through me, propelling me out of the chair. “Gotta go. Thanks, Carla!”

I hang up while she’s still sputtering, grab my purse, and rush out. I wave hastily to my new assistant, calling over my shoulder that I’m going for a long lunch.

The streets of Manhattan are packed on this glorious spring day. Seems like everyone and their uncle are out for lunch, too. I twist and squirm my way through the crowds, eager to get to Tony’s building.

What will I say when I see him? Do I tell him I’ve fallen in love with him? Will it even matter if I’m the reason he was fired?

Calm down. If he was mad at you he never would have made love to you this morning.

Really? Like a man would never sleep with someone when presented with the opportunity, right?

You know Tony’s not like that with you.

He was like that at one time, when he was more of a player, wasn’t he? What makes me think he’s any different now?

Tony’s gorgeous building bordering the park comes into view and I hurry into the lobby, unwilling to let my fears rule my actions. One of the fussy staff members behind the concierge desk smiles in welcome, offering assistance.

“Would you call up to Tony Carmine’s unit and let him know he has a guest?”

A dark haired woman of Latin descent answers, “Mr. Carmine moved out on Wednesday.” My heart crumbles at the admission. Tears threaten and I stifle a small sob of frustration. “Are you okay?”

I nod and briskly turn away. I’ll be damned if I beg her for his contact information. Considering how upscale this place is, I doubt she’d reveal anything anyway.

That leaves one alternative—his building in Hoboken. He’s either been going there each day when we’d leave for work in the morning or staying someplace else while he looks for a new job.

I take a deep breath and push through the lobby doors, nodding to the doorman on my way past. The only immediate solution I can think of is to go to my place and hope he comes to see me.

Assuming he doesn’t despise me for getting him fired.

Didn’t seem like he despised you this morning when he was calling out your name.

How much of what we shared was real and how much of it did I imagine to mean more? Maybe I’m just another fling for the jet-setting playboy. Have I projected all my new feelings onto him, hoping what we had was mutual?

The tears I held back all morning let loose, sliding unbidden down my cheeks. Pain twists in my heart as the possibility of being alone again sinks in. The depressing thought of going back to microwave meals for one has me ready to find the nearest park bench and cry all afternoon.

Listen to yourself! Don’t slide back to who you were before that exciting night on the patio, you idiot.

I wipe my cheeks, willing the tears to stop. I am sliding precariously close to acting like a desperately sad and weak woman. A woman I no longer am.

In your heart, you know you’re worthy of love, and he is the right man for you. If he doesn’t come by your place, you need to hire a car and go to Hoboken. If you don’t fight for what you feel then it truly was nothing.

Emboldened by discerning a course of action I can live with, I hail a cab to ride to my place. I’ve come a long way in the short time I’ve known Tony, from being a doormat to ordering a man to his knees. Before, I never would have been so bold, but now I know better—if something matters, you don’t let it go.