Page 104 of Skins Game

If she opened her mouth, she might vomit on the hotel’s expensive rug.

If he denied it, she was going to grab the nearest froufrou crystal candlestick and heave it at his head.

To save them both from that, Nicole walked over, plucked her laptop from his unresisting fingers, and slapped it closed. Grabbing her backpack, she stalked back into the bedroom, yanked her frilly pink pajama bottoms over her bare butt, and jammed her feet in the hotel slippers.

With a quick swipe in the bathroom, her birth control pills, toothbrush, and a few of her favorite cosmetics fell into her backpack. She crammed the laptop in the rear compartment made for it.

The sweet little sundresses in her luggage and even her favorite LBD were garbage. She would never wear them again, so she walked out of the bedroom and through the living room toward the suite’s front door with just her backpack.

“Nicole!” Kingston called after her.

Her throat was choked closed, and she couldn’t answer.

“Nicole, wait!I can’t book the plane with less than twelve hours notice.”

She kept going, the slippers slapping the thick rugs and dark walnut floor and her heels as she half-ran. “I’m going to the airport.”

Running footfalls behind her, and Kingston caught up to her, snagging her elbow and his fingers. “Please don’t leave.”

“Take your hand off of me,” she snarled at him, and he let her go. “I don’t want to hear your rationalizations. I gave you a chance when I shouldn’t have, and you threw it away.”

“You heard Morrissey Sand. I’ve been dancing around the subject for months, but without a huge change, Sidewinder will self-destruct. This is the only way to save the company and everyone’s jobs.”

“You’re trying to save your own reputation as the guy who saves companies, but you’re going to destroy Sidewinder if you put those designs into production.They are not ready yet.”

“Failure is not an option. Ihaveto do this.”

“I don’t care what you do, but leave me alone. Don’t talk to me at work. Do not try to contact me. I amdonewith you.”

Nicole marched out of the suite and didn’t look back, even when she heard the door click closed behind her.

She caught the elevator down, stewing and replaying the scene in her head the whole way. She should’ve told him to go to Hell.

A bellhop met her when the elevator doors opened to the lobby. “Mr. Moore has instructed us to arrange a limousine to safely take you to JFK. I cannot recommend that a young lady such as yourself walk the streets of New York City alone after two o’clock in the morning. We are working on getting you an airline ticket to the John Wayne airport. Or would you prefer LAX?”

The barrage of information ricocheted around Nicole’s head. “First available, please. San Diego is also fine. Thank you. I have my credit card here. I’ll get it.”

“Mr. Moore instructed us to put it on his account. There are often six a.m. flights to the West Coast. We’ll see what we can book you on. In the meantime, we have a private VIP lounge where sensitive guests can wait if needed. You’re welcome to it.”

He led her to a discreet door on the lobby’s back wall.

Inside was a lounge with couches and a TV high above a mini-bar with alcohol and snacks.

“Can I get you anything to eat or drink or anything to make you more comfortable?”

Service at the Baccarat really was impeccable.

The rage leaked out of her body because this very nice man was not to blame. “No, thank you. I appreciate your help.”

The bellhop’s slight smile was purely professional. “It happens all the time, ma’am. Please do not hesitate to ask if I can do anything to make these moments more comfortable for you. I can even collect additional items from the room while you wait.”

“No, thank you. There’s nothing up there I want anymore.”

“I understand. Please rest here, and we will have more information about the car service and airplane tickets soon.”

Within an hour, a black car drove Nicole through the shockingly empty streets of New York City to JFK airport, where the United desk asked her for her driver’s license and then handed her a first-class plane ticket to San Diego.

No, she had no luggage to check.