Not everyone.
"Yes." Cassy's high-pitched voice, which normally puts a smile on my face (the girl is always in a good mood), irritates me to no end today. "It's your client."
Oh.The thundering in my chest slows, and I draw in a deep breath.
You are okay.
"Thanks, Cassy." I disconnect with her and switch to the other line. "This is Denielle."
"Denielle, hello. It's Em. I'm so sorry to do this, but I have to reschedule my fitting to next week. I had to unexpectedly go out of town for business. I hope that doesn't cause too much trouble?" The background noise of traffic is muted by a shutting car door.
"Not at all. What day would you like to come in?" I pull up my calendar on my laptop.
"Do you have any openings on Monday?" Her calm tone settles my nerves more.
I smile to myself. There is nothing not perfect on the woman. "Yes, Monday works great."
We reschedule her appointment, and as I hang up, my eyes flick to my cell phone. My thoughts drift to my other best friend, who—due to the distance—is completely in the dark about what is going on here. I doubt Lilly or Rhys would fill Wes or King in without my knowledge. If they had, I would've already heard from Wes. I would have to face him sooner or later. But for now, I will focus on the friends I can't avoid. Though, I haven't spoken to Lilly today.
Rhys was downstairs when I left this morning. Lilly had gone to the office for a meeting, which meant I had missed Marcus as well.Missedbeing the accurate descriptor here. A hollow emptiness slowly spreads through me as I stand. How could I miss this man? Marcus came for me, and he stayed with me at the hospital until Lilly arrived. He didn't have to stay, yet he did.
But then he left.
He saved me from Collin. I pick a cuticle with my nail. Not having any nail polish on, I need to pick at something. The night at the vineyard flashes back to me. The dark hallway leading toward the great room. I was soaked, my dress dripping across the dark floor, goose bumps rippling in waves over every exposed inch. I was numb inside. Shocked at what I had just done. The first time in years. Then, Marcus moved out of the dark, his shadow breaking through my barrier of disbelief. The second he stepped close, something shifted. In me. In him. I felt…like me. I didn't talk back to him that night—too stunned at what had just snapped into place. It took days—until we left Northern California—until the shock had morphed to a newfound strength. The guilt his presence always instilled in me was still there, but it was accompanied by something new. And I craved the feeling. The sensation of power.
Marcus didn't loathe me for pushing back. No. He liked it as much as I did.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
MARCUS
Denielle wouldn't meetmy eye yesterday when she came home from work. J and I were in the garage, testing the cars' trackers—something we did once a month. Denielle pulled the G-Wagon into its spot, got out, and sped past us as if her overpriced shoes were on fire. A mumbled, "J. Marcus," was the only indication that she noticed us—not that that would've been hard with us basically blocking her path.
J glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before returning thegreeting.
Watching her disappear into the house, something became painfully clear. She was pissed. At me. The hair on the nape of my neck tingled, and I lifted a hand to rub the sensation away. Her avoidance was anything but the duck and run she used to do. After our forced proximity this last month and a half, she didn't cower to me, which left one conclusion—and I didn't like it. I brought it on myself. I left her unconscious in the hospital. Part of me wasn't proud of it, but at the same time, I couldn't seek her out. Not yet.
This morning wasanother repeat of the previous day. Denielle acknowledged me with a semi-polite greeting, but that was it. Everyone else she treated just fine. Lilly and Rhys exchanged a look but remained mute otherwise.
Now, I'm lying on the couch, my head resting on the back and my feet stretched out on the coffee table. My gaze is trained on the TV without actually watching what's flittering across the screen. I've been in a constant state of annoyance since a certain brunette drove off the property this morning.
My phone buzzes next to me on the cushion and redirects my nonexistent attention.
What now?
I peer to the side without abandoning my position. Reading the caller ID, my heart slips in my chest. What the—? Denielle's name rolls across the screen, and I jerk upright, grabbing the phone. I stare at her name, my chest constricting with every vibration ringing through my palm. My thumb hovers over the display, not accepting or declining the call.
Ah, fuck it.
"Hello?"
"Hi, uh…Marcus?" Her reluctance conjures a picture of a blush creeping across her features, my face suddenly equally feverish. Jesus, this is why I've never done the whole relationship thing.
Not that we are in a relationship.
"Yes, you calledme." I chuckle, the warmth expanding to my core.
She answers with a huffed laugh but cuts herself off as soon as it starts. "Um, would you, uh…could you pick me up at work? Please?"