I wait for him to take the hint and leave. He does.
“Have a good weekend, Linny.”
“You too,” I say under my breath as he
walks back through the doorway.
I rush to shut the door, not wanting anyone else to stroll into my office unexpectedly.
I set the box on my desk and stare at it. Clients have sent me thank you gifts in the past, but this feels different.
Pulling on the corner of the silver ribbon, I feel my heart beat quicken. I lift the top of the box off to find a pillow of pink tissue paper.
I pause for a second before I grab two of the ends and separate the paper.
Something glimmers when the overhead light in my office hits it, just as the realization of what it is, hits me.
It’s the tiara.
The plastic, cheap tiara that I had on my head in Las Vegas, and left in West’s hotel suite is now sitting on my desk.
My hands shake as I reach for the small white envelope tucked next to the tiara. Sliding out the card, I take a deep breath.
The handwriting is bold and masculine, the message concise and to the point.
You in this tiara: beautiful.
You in my bed in Vegas: breathtaking.
I close my eyes to try and stop the flood of memories of that night. I want it again. I want him again, but that can’t happen.
I throw the card back into the box, slide the lid on and put it all in the bottom drawer of my desk.
What happened in Vegas with West is in my past. That’s where it needs to stay.
Chapter 22
Jeremy
The package I sent to Linny should have arrived at her office by now. I called the delivery service myself and gave the guy specific instructions.
I wanted the box in Linny’s hands, not in anyone else’s, but even the best-laid plan can fall off the rails. I knew there was a slim chance that someone else could inadvertently or deliberately open it.
I didn’t sign my name on the card for that reason.
Putting her in a compromising position at work isn’t my intention. It took me a few minutes during our initial meeting in the conference room to realize that she didn’t want her dad knowing about our past connection.
She was stoic and determined that day, but since then I’ve seen small flashes of the woman I fucked in Las Vegas.
I was hoping that last night over dinner, she’d finally confess and tell me why in the hell she’s acting like our one-night stand never happened.
The sole reason can’t be because she’s trying to shield her wild side from her father. If that were the case, she would have dropped the act when we were alone. There’s more to this.
It’s not that I’m craving the ego boost that comes with a woman remembering how great I am in bed.
I’m not looking for that with her.
I want an acknowledgment of what happened between us two months ago so we can have an honest discussion about how to handle our working relationship. Once that’s been established, I want more nights like the one we had in Vegas. I’d bet everything I own, that she does too.