Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gigi
I get Emma ready for school and then shower for work, trying my best to be on time, while still putting myself together.
I want to look good today.
I just had the most handsome and successful man I’ve ever met make amazing love to me and then feed me breakfast.
The least I can do is blow out my hair.
Grabbing my standard pencil skirt, I choose a new blouse in a soft pink that makes my skin look young and fresh.
I apply a little eyeliner and mascara, along with some pale gloss before I take Emma down to daycare.
She bounces next to me on the elevator. “I can’t wait to tell everyone about Birdie.”
I smile next to her. I don’t bounce, but I’m also bubbling with joy. After years of worry and constant vigilance, and then another year of looking over my shoulder always wondering when Vigo might appear, I feel like I can finally relax, at least a little.
My shoulders unwind, and I give Emma’s hand a little squeeze. She sings her way into school, and I’m off to work in no time.
I’m not even late as I enter the office, waving to Rachel as I pass.
She follows me into the kitchenette. “Big Bad Bossman actually seems like he’s in a good mood today,” she whispers to me as we make the coffee. “Think it was because of yesterday?”
“Yesterday?” I croak, my head snapping up.
One of her eyebrows arches up. “The meeting with the lawyers, the redrafting of the contract…”
I feel the heat as pink surely floods my cheeks. I duck my chin to try and hide it. “Right. He likely is in a better mood because of that.”
Or maybe for another reason…
But I don’t share that with Rachel as I take Rush’s now-brewed coffee to his office.
He’s already at his desk, on his phone. He looks up when I enter, flicking his hand to indicate he doesn’t want the coffee.
I ought to have known. He’s already had a cup, but I couldn’t exactly tell Rachel that, could I?
I carry the coffee back out, Rachel giving me a long look as I dump it down the sink in the kitchenette.
Moving to my desk, I start sorting the mail and organizing the calendar. That’s when I notice that Rush’s entire morning has been blocked off for a meeting.
I pick up my head, looking at his now-closed door.
Who is he meeting with that I didn’t schedule and don’t know about?
Apprehension zips down my spine as my mouth twists into a frown. “Rachel, did you schedule a meeting for Mr. Smith this morning?”
She crosses from her desk to mine. “Yes. Gris called a half hour ago and told me block off the time.”
A pit settles in my stomach. Why was Rachel in charge of this? A myriad of questions start swirling in my head. Did I really mess up sleeping with Rush?
Am I going to be fired?
Was he just letting me relax this morning or does this portend to bad things?
The phone rings, but before my hand has even made it to the receiver, it stops, the call light displaying that call has been connected in Rush’s office.
I stand, not sure what else to do, as I stare at the light. “Do you know why it’s been blocked off? Who the meeting is with?”
“He didn’t say. He just told me to block it?—”
But we both stop as Rush’s door opens. “Ms. Hope,” Rush calls from the doorway, his tone clipped. “A word.”
“Of course, Mr. Smith.” I give Rachel the slightest glance before walking toward the door. He opens it wider, allowing me in, before he closes it behind me.
“Everything all right?” I ask once it’s clicked closed.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gestures for me to sit. My legs are full of lead as I take the two steps to the chair and slide into the seat.
He takes the chair next to me. “We’re about to have a hostile visitor.”
For a moment, my chest unwinds, relief making me slump in the chair. This is a work thing that has him so tense. It’s not about our personal relationship at all. “Hostile in what way?”
He frowns. “Hostile, in that I just stopped him from skimming millions off my construction project. Hostile in that I outbid him for this contract to begin with.”
All the air whooshes from my lungs. He can’t mean it. I grip the arms of the chair, just trying to remain upright. “Vigo Sinclair is coming here? Now?”
“That’s right,” he pushes up from the chair, starting to pace. “I have no idea if he’s here to threaten me, cajole me, try to kill me—” He stops by my chair, his hand coming to my shoulder. “I jest. Not even Vigo is that bold.”
He’s bold. Bold enough to do any measure of things. But even if he’s not coming to hurt Rush, what will he do when he finds me?
The intercom buzzes and Rush moves around the desk, pressing the button. “Yes?”
“A Mr. Vigo Sinclair is here to see you, sir. He’s not listed on the schedule, but he claims?—”
“Send him up.”
Rush’s words echo through me, my entire body vibrating with them as my whole body breaks out in a cold sweat. In a minute, less, Vigo will be here. Am I just supposed to serve him coffee? Will he recognize me?
Of course he will. We were married for nearly three years.
Bile turns in my stomach as Rush lets go of the intercom button and moves to his office door, swinging it open and stepping out of the room, but I am glued to my chair.
I can’t go out there. Can’t face him.
The room spins and I touch my forehead with a trembling hand. My forehead is cold and clammy as I tip my head, my hair falling around my face.
I lift my head and feel vomit rising up my esophagus. Shooting up from the chair, I force my legs to work, as I dash out the door and run behind Rush toward the bathroom.
I just make it to the door of the ladies’ room when I hear the elevator ding.
I slam it open and nearly fall inside as it swings shut behind me. I don’t even have time to wonder if Vigo saw me before I race for a stall, all the coffee and eggs I ate for breakfast coming back up.
My knees hit the tile floor as I hang onto the toilet.
There is a certain bliss in being this sick. It’s all I can think about, the rest of the world fades away.