Page 36 of Point of Contention

I took a sip of whiskey, letting the amber liquid sit on my tongue and reveling in the slow burn. Our relationship had been spun into something dirty and reprehensible. Not only Rylan’s character, but my own as well, had been consistently called into question and I detested not being able to protect her from that unfair judgment—

“Cabot?” Veronica Ross leaned over the small table, her low-cut blouse dropping to expose the tops of her tanned breasts.

I forced a friendly smile for the head of my West Coast marketing team, and met her gaze.

“What do you think? Sound good?” she asked hopefully.

Christ, she’d asked me a question. I narrowed my eyes, trying to recall anything any of the people gathered here had said in the past hour.

Smiling sympathetically, as if understanding the source of my lack of focus, she leaned closer still. “We’re thinking of heading over to Seven Blossom Fig,” she said loudly over the music. “It’s a new club downtown owned by one of the Hilton sisters.” She laughed and flicked her wrist, then reached across and brushed her fingertips over my knee. “Not sure which one. Could be a cousin.”

I nodded, though the idea of continuing this evening was almost as unpleasant as that dreadful name for a nightclub. The cocktail waitress returned with the check, handing it directly to me as if someone had already informed her I’d be handling the tab. I don’t know why this irked me. It wasn’t like I was unaccustomed to the way people would look to me when the time came to pay, but for whatever reason, the assumption rubbed me the wrong way tonight.

Perhaps because I wasn’t confident they’d vote in my favor a second time.

I settled the bill regardless, then stood. “Apologies, friends,” I said as I inclined my head to Veronica, then the gentlemen seated around the table. “I’m afraid I’m calling it a night. It’s been a pleasure.” I sipped the rest of my drink and set it on the table. I didn’t owe any of them an explanation, so I left it at that and stepped out of the booth, striding toward the exit through a crowd that had tripled in size since our arrival two hours ago.

By the time I reached the door and slipped out into the stairwell that led upward into the back of the downtown restaurant, I was loosening my tie, the sudden need to escape making my clothing too snug and the stairwell appear smaller than it had on the way down into the speakeasy.

I needed space. Privacy.

Some goddamn fresh air.

But not California’s sea salt and smog.

I wanted the grime of New York City. Hot dogs steaming in a cart. The scent of gyro meat rotating on a vertical rotisserie—

“Cabot!” Veronica called out behind me. “Wait a minute.”

I froze at the top of the stairs, closing my eyes at the sound of her voice.

I’d been foolish to think she’d let me leave without trying to come back to my hotel. I’d managed to sway her thus far, but my last night in town was usually hers.

Breathing deeply, I turned around as she ascended the flight of stairs.

“What’s going on with you?” She stopped one stair below me, head tilted back as she searched my eyes.

“Nothing, I have a flight.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Veronica knew what a shitstorm I’d left behind me in New York—no one within Reed Enterprises had been safe from the unraveling of Cabot Reed, Jr.—but Veronica had respected my privacy enough not to bring it up during my time here. And, although she was no doubt curious about that aspect of my life, she would have been fine to spend one string-less night with me like always, had I been in any shape to do so.

She touched my hand and I tensed. “I figured you’d stay at my place…” Her words trailed off, then the ghost of a smile curved her lips. “Ah… so it’s true.”

I straightened.

She searched my gaze, then dropped her hand and shook her head. “I would have never believed it possible.”

“If you could just spit it out…” I flicked my gaze over my shoulder. So close to the door but unable to leave.

“You fell in love.”

I whipped my head back around.

Veronica licked her lips, then rolled them as she continued to watch me.

We’d been together every time I traveled to Los Angeles. Nothing serious, of course, as she was a career-driven woman who enjoyed the safety found in fucking a man like me. I would never tie her down, never ask her for more than she was willing to give.

Which was a few hours of time, a few times a year.