Page 122 of Reluctantly Yours

Half the items on this list are about me. She could have asked for anything, but she asked that I smile more. At her.

“Mr. Hinkle and Mr. Lancaster are here,” Bea notifies me over the intercom.

“I’ll be right there,” I say. I push my hands through my hair, then slowly stand. I move toward my office door. I purposely divert my gaze away from the sofa. I spent half of yesterday staring at it, thinking of Chloe’s impromptu visit a few weeks ago. Remembering her there makes my body ache.

I miss her touch, her taste. The adorable way she rambles about nothing, her never ending books to be read stacked up on my bedside table. The way she looks incredible in both a baggy t-shirt or a sexy silk nightie.

I’ve tried to call her but she doesn’t answer. I hate not knowing if she’s okay. Of course, she’s not okay. I broke her heart.

I’ve spent five nights in my bed alone and every moment has been agony. I need her pressed up against me, her wild hair tickling my face. Her soft breathing had become the soundtrack to my most restful night’s sleep.

Carl must have been notified already. He’s approaching my office as I exit.

“Let’s get this deal done,” he says, holding out his fist to me. I blank stare and he eventually drops his arm. “You still in a shitty mood?”

“What do you think?” I level him with a glare.

I was supposed to be in Vail with Chloe, her friend’s wedding is tonight. I had thought about showing up to surprise her, hoping she’d forgive me, but when the closing with Voltaire got moved to today, I had Bea cancel my ticket. She doesn’t want me there anyway.

We walk down the hallway to the conference room where the Voltaire group is waiting for us. Fred’s shiny bald head peeks over the top of one of the leather chairs at the table.

I’ve felt nauseous all morning. I’ve never felt this way before closing a deal. The usual rush of excitement and thrill of victory is nonexistent.

Carl and I enter the room and shake hands with the Voltaire group. Fred’s meaty hand palms my shoulder when he tells the others about how he beat me at tennis two days ago. My smile is forced, not because I give a fuck about our tennis match, but because in this moment I don’t give a fuck about anything. Except Chloe.

While Carl talks to Fred’s legal team, and verifies that the independent notary has everything she needs for the signing, Fred motions me over to the side of the room.

“I’ve got to show you what I picked up at the jeweler’s earlier.”

Fred pulls out a small velvet box from inside his suit coat pocket. My heart lurches in my chest and I plead for there to be a set of earrings inside that box. When Fred opens it, the nausea I felt earlier returns, tenfold.

Inside Fred’s box is a huge diamond ring.

“Fred, I—” I can’t believe he is planning to propose to Frankie.

“I’m ready for the next chapter of my life,” Fred says. “I’m going to ask Frankie to marry me tonight. It has been fun getting to know you and Chloe, so I wanted to share the news with you.”

“Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

Fred shrugs. “I have no doubt that she’ll say yes.”

Fred’s right. There’s no doubt Frankie will say yes. This is clearly what she wants, to marry Fred, gain access to his money and have an affair on the side. Fuck.

“No, I mean in your relationship,” I say.

“When you know, you know.”

Except Fred doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know that Frankie is cheating on him and therefore likely using him for his money and status. Fred is too territorial about Frankie for him to know about her disloyalty and not care.

“Just tell me you’re happy for me and we’ll get this deal done.”

I clear my throat. “I’m happy for you, Fred.”

Fred must take my struggle to congratulate him as jealousy.

“It’s not a competition. You’ll get there with Chloe soon enough.”

He has no idea that Chloe left me.