Chapter 16
sixteen
VAL
“Oh my gosh.” Horror flooded Amantha’s voice, her twin moonlit eyes growing huge. “Oh my gosh!” She muffled her words with her fingers.
Amantha began to pace like a frantic wildcat, spiraling into a monologue.
“It was Blythe. It was Blythe?! Why? Why would she do that?” Amantha spun and shook my shoulders—or at least, she tried to. “Do you know what this means?”
I steadied myself against her panic, opening my mouth to respond.
“I’m fired,” she cut in. Clapping her hands onto her head, she began to pace again. “I’m gonna get fired. If Blythe finds out I know it was her, she’s gonna fire me! If Kendra finds out it was Blythe, she’s gonna fire her, and I’m gonna get fired as a freaking casualty!”
Hair was beginning to stick out from her smooth ponytail. Amantha stopped in the center of my office, chest heaving. Her luminous eyes filled with tears as her lips began to quiver.
“I can’t… Ryan will… Anthony needs—” At the mention of her son’s name, she covered her face with her hands and began to cry.
Pride be damned.
I closed the distance between us in two long strides.
Without hesitation, I pulled her tight to my chest. Something akin to liquid sunshine blossomed where her body met mine.
Nothing had felt so right in a long time.
Fit so right. The meadow scent, I realized, must be her shampoo.
I rested my cheek against her soft hair, letting myself drown in it.
“We don’t know for sure it was Blythe. And you are not going to get fired. I won’t let that happen to you,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure if I could stop it after all was said and done, but I’d try. After everything I’d learned about this small, infuriating woman, she sure didn’t deserve this too.
Ryan was a complete moron, that much was clear. The fear and pain in Amantha’s eyes when she’d first seen Vanessa in the park had been beyond messed up. I never wanted to see that look again.
While I had been faking our relationship in front of her ex husband’s mistress, the feeling of Amantha nestling into my side was entirely real. A protective force I had forgotten had reawakened inside me. I wanted to protect Amantha. And anyone important to her—which meant Anthony.
Although I didn’t know the kid, the way Amantha’s face had shone when she talked about him was all I needed.
Maybe it was because I never got to have kids with Stella, but they always held a special place in my heart.
No kid should have his home ripped apart because of his selfish dad. They both had been through enough.
Amantha’s shoulders stilled as her tears turned to sniffles. Still in my embrace, hands resting on my chest, she lifted her chin and coughed out a tiny laugh.
“Oh crap. I’m sorry about your shirt.”
I looked down at the tears and streaked mascara. “No white shirt is safe with you, is it? Coffee spills, mascara…” I offered a soft smile. “It’s okay. I have a spare in that cabinet over there.”
“You keep spare button-ups in your office?” Amantha snorted. “That’s just so… Val.”
Without thinking, I angled my face closer to hers, drawn by her beauty among the messy wake of emotion. Although her skin was mottled, she was still the most beautiful thing.
Her twin silver pools blinked back up at me for a long moment. Almost as if I were imagining it, Amantha seemed to angle her face up to mine, dare I say, doing the same?
Too soon, Amantha’s shy smile disappeared. Gently pulling away, she took two measured steps back. The liquid sunshine left with her.
“Um, I’ve got to go. I didn’t realize the time, and I need to get home.” She ducked her head and tucked an escaped lock from her ponytail behind her ear. Without sparing me so much as a glance, she snatched her snack wrappers off the floor and dumped them into the trash can.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to the door. And then, she was gone.
I listened, cemented to the spot where my world had shifted, as her footsteps died in the silent museum.
My heart plummeted.
Great going, Val.
I wanted to kick myself. That wasn’t crossing a line from co-workers to more. No, that was like jumping from a plane without so much as a parachute. But at that moment, hugging her felt so natural.
Something was happening inside me. Something, I feared, that was much too late to stop. Talking with Amantha, laughing with her, even fighting with her had made me feel more alive than I had in years. Amantha hadn’t forced me from my island of loneliness.
No, this entire time, Amantha had been building a sandbank. A path to her that would be easy to cross. That I wanted to cross. Our connection was palpable. Electric. There was no way she didn’t feel that, was there?
Regardless of what I thought she felt, Amantha’s actions spoke louder. And judging from her reaction to that hug, she definitely didn’t reciprocate my feelings.
I sighed, crossed to my computer, and took a screenshot of Lake Attersee’s accession form. After safely attaching the file to my personal cloud, I trudged around and picked up the rest of our impromptu picnic. As I grabbed my chip bag, a flash of silver glinted beside it.
Amantha’s keys.
Crap.
I snatched them up before locking my office door. My cardio training paid dividends as I sprinted through the museum after her. The sprinkling rain had given way to a summer downpour.
Amantha stood on the corner, hair dripping, cotton t-shirt and shorts soaked through. Though the summer storm was warm, she seemed to be shivering as she waved wildly at the taxis brimming with people escaping the weather.
“Amantha!” I yelled over the rushing sound of traffic.
She squinted over her shoulder, shielding the rain with one hand. The other still tried to flag down a passing vehicle. “What?”
I bounded down the museum steps. Rain permeated my thin white shirt and saturated my hair. Approaching her, I bit back a groan. I tried to ignore the sopping clothes clinging to her body’s perfect curvature. After all, I was a gentleman, but no saint.
I dangled her keys out and forced my eyes to hers. “You left these.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Amantha squeezed them into the damp pocket of her shorts.
I glanced up at the black sky, fat raindrops peppering my face. “Let me drive you home.”
“No. I’m okay, Val. Really, you don’t need to.”
As I got closer, I realized the rivulets on her cheeks weren’t just rain. The frustrating woman needed me right now, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it.
“You’re ridiculous. I left my car parked here this morning. It's just over there.”
“No, Val. It’s fine. You don’t need to—”
“You’re impossible,” I growled, then caught her wrist and pulled her down the sidewalk. She didn’t resist, only trailed after me as she wiped her streaked mascara. It dawned that I had formed a habit of dragging Amantha around. But what else was a man to do when she was so stubborn?
My white Audi was the only car left in the parking lot.
“This is your car?” Amantha laughed, a sunny moment breaking through her tears. “I knew you were some trust fund kid.”
Rolling my eyes, I huffed. “Just get in.” The cab was warm, the luxury leather seat giving as I sat down.
Amantha remained by the passenger door, rain continuing to pour over her head. I leaned over and pushed her door open.
“What are you waiting for?”
She bent to survey the interior. “It’s just so… clean. I wouldn’t want to get your seat wet, or leave a footprint, or breathe too loudly, or—”
“Would you shut up and get in the car?”
“Fine.” Pleased by her mischief, Amantha slid inside and buckled herself.
“Here.” I fished blindly in the backseat and handed her a jacket. Something flickered in her expression before she quietly accepted it. Amantha gave me her address, which I typed into the GPS.
The car ride was silent. I tried to ignore the aroma that permeated the enclosed air.
Amantha mingled with rainwater was an intoxicating, heady scent.
I risked a glance at her. Her knees were curled against her chest, blanketed by my navy fleece jacket.
She was watching the water stream down her window.
I turned left as the GPS instructed me to.
“Why do you have bowling shoes?”
I found Amantha looking at the back seat. “Because I like to bowl?”
“And you’re too good to rent the normal-people shoes?”
“I don’t need to confirm what you already know.” I checked my blind spot.
“So, you agree. You’re better than everyone?”
“Glad to finally be on the same page.” I shot her my most charming smile and maneuvered the sleek car in front of Amantha’s building. I shifted into park, but Amantha didn’t move a muscle. Instead, she sat chewing on her lip, gazing out the windshield.
I shut off the engine. Rain pattered on the roof, and the dim street lamps did little to illuminate the cab. I waited, content to sit there for the rest of the night if she’d let me.
Amantha pulled the elastic from her ponytail as damp waves fell down her back. She fiddled with the elastic and stared at her fingers.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“About the form we found?”
“About everything.”
“We’ll make a plan. You’re not in this alone, remember?” I wanted to brush her hand, catch her chin—anything to convey how serious I was.
Amantha continued to twirl the hair tie.
“Is there something I can do?” The sincerity of my question surprised even myself.
“Would you mind? I mean if you have time…” Amantha trailed off.
After a moment, she squared her shoulders and blurted, “Would you be okay coming upstairs for a bit? I promise it won’t take long, and I don’t want it to be weird, but I’m kind of panicking about work tomorrow.
I’m the worst actress, I can’t tell Kate or my Mom, and I just don’t want to be alone right now… ” The last part came out hushed.
A slight intake of breath parted my mouth.
Amantha didn’t notice; her hair tie was too busy twisting itself into knots. The request sounded intimate and vulnerable, and only a flick of her gray eyes betrayed her nerves.
“Of course,” I breathed.