I don’t bother with any pleasantries. “Where are you?”
There’s a pause. “Have you returned?”
“I have. I landed about half an hour ago.”
“You could have let me know you were on your way.”
“Why?” I sound like a jerk, but I’m too jealous to care. “I told you I would return today.”
“Yes, but…” I hear her take a breath. “I went out.”
“I gathered.” She doesn’t say more. At least she’s not lying to me. “Are you alone?” I know the answer, yet I dread hearing her say it.
There’s a pause. “No, I’m not, but I’m about to leave.”
“Where are you?”
She tells me where they are.
“I’m on my way.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m on my way,” I repeat firmly. Maybe I’m not thinking straight. Maybe I’m jealous, but while she’s with me, any friend will be made aware of the fact that she is mine.
Chapter 12
I arrive at the lounge a few minutes later. It’s a nice place. A chanteuse on a stage is singing soulful music accompanied by a talented band. At a table by the windows, Rachel sits opposite a guy I recognize instantly.
The ex.
The one who made her cry.
I suppose I have him to thank for pushing Rachel straight into my arms.
But right now, the last thing I want to do is thank him for anything.
He’s saying something to her, smiling, his hand placed over hers on the table. He’s trying to get her attention, but she’s looking in my direction. Does she hate that I interrupted her date?
I should turn back and end our arrangement. Maybe she won’t mind that. Maybe it would be for the best if I left her to continue…whatever she has with him.
I don’t, of course. I want her too much.
Rachel’s eyes follow me as I approach their table. I ignore her companion, taking her face in my hands and covering her lips with mine. She tastes of wine and sweetness, and for a moment, I almost lose my head. Finally, I release her, noting with satisfaction that she’s flushed and breathless.
That’s when I turn to her companion. I hold out my hand. “Landon Court.”
There is comprehension and jealousy in his eyes as he rises to take my outstretched hand. “Jack Weyland.”
I already knew that. “Pleased to meet you.” My voice is blank. “You write for Gilt, don’t you? Are you here for work?”
He gives Rachel a look then faces me again, chin raised. “No, I’m here to see Rachel.”
Well, he has…and now it’s time to go. I turn to Rachel. “You ready?” If she chooses not to come with me, I’ll let her go. I’ll let this all go. It will be hard, but I’ll manage it.
“You’re leaving?” Weyland frowns, his eyes on Rachel. Did he assume the evening would end with Rachel in his bed somewhere? Well, fuck him. That’s not happening.
“Yes.” Rachel rises to her feet, and I feel something like joy in my chest. “I had a great time.”