6. Delilah
Stef pulledup his Bugatti outside the Royal Phoenix, a scowl already darkening his handsome face. I should have been at work twenty minutes ago, but for once, I didn’t care if I was late or not. It was hard to care about little things, like if my colleagues gossiped about my work ethic when what I’d spent my entire life working toward was no longer mine.
My friend tucked a lock of my blond hair behind my ear, giving me a grim smile. “You can still run away with Sam to Cabo. I swear I won’t be mad. Just incredibly jealous that you get to spend a week on the beach with my boyfriend while I’m up to my elbows—literally—in placentas.”
Despite how tired I was, I returned his smile. “As tempting as the offer is, I have responsibilities. Plus, I don’t do well lying around, stewing. It makes everything more daunting. Didn’t I drive you and Sam bonkers over the weekend?”
“As always, you were a lovely distraction. You make Sam giggle, and that’s priceless to me.” Leaning over, he kissed my forehead. “Don’t overdo it. Make sure you’re drinking enough water, and try to eat several small meals throughout the day. If you need anything, we’re just a call away.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I hadn’t allowed myself to cry all weekend. What good would it do anyway? It wouldn’t fix anything, including my broken heart. Instead, I’d only allowed anger to fuel me for the last few days.
“Don’t work too hard,” I told him, reaching for the door.
“That’s my line, precious,” he called after me. “See you tonight. Wear something sexy. Sam has a business dinner to attend. You can be his arm candy.”
Shaking my head at him, I waved as I turned to walk into the hotel. Winston excused himself from a group of guests when I entered. “Why do you look more haggard today than the last time I saw you? Aren’t days off supposed to be rejuvenating?”
I glowered at my boss. “A girl could get a complex from hearing men continuously tell her she looks like shit.”
“Who said such a thing to you?” he demanded, his voice dropping menacingly. “Give me names.”
“You’re sweet, but I’m going to have to pass on that one. Convict orange wouldn’t look good on you.”
He fell into step with me as I started toward the reception desk. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“Yes, actually.” I stopped and turned to face him. An ache was already building in my ribs, but I powered through. I was going to miss Winston so much. He’d been a father figure to me my entire life, more so than anyone else, even Grandpa Howie. I’d spent days considering my options and had come to the only decision I could that would still leave me with a little dignity. “Expect my formal resignation by the end of the day.”
Winston was rarely surprised, but my announcement had his thick brows lifting toward the ceiling. “You’re not serious.” I remained silent, and he grumbled something under his breath. “Delilah, what is going on? Talk to me. Perhaps I can help.”
I wanted to unload everything on him so badly, but that wasn’t fair. Winston was my boss. And since he was the general manager, the only person he answered to was Nash. I wouldn’t put him in the middle of our issues.
“There’s nothing to help with. I want to focus on myself for a little while, and I can’t do that here. I’m going to…travel.” Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Nash. My hands balled into fists at my sides, my heart ricocheting off my chest, nausea tossing around in my stomach. “I will email you my resignation letter.”
“And if I refuse it?” he murmured, his eyes softening with a tenderness he rarely showed anyone.
“Please don’t. I prefer to work the two weeks’ notice, but it won’t leave you in a bind if I leave now. There are plenty of people who are just as capable as I am who can replace me.”
“Now, that is the biggest lie I have ever heard you speak, Delilah. No one can ever replace you. Ever.” He released a heavy breath. “But I will respect that you need to take some personal time. Whenever you’re ready, come see me. Your job will be waiting. Regardless of however long it may take to sort out whatever it is you’re going through.”
“Thank you, Winston. That means everything to me.”
Winston squeezed my shoulder. I tried to stay focused on him and not on the way Nash was storming toward me. I could practically feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, flooding the lobby with his impatience and anger. “I’m going to miss you, Delilah. Promise you’ll keep in contact so I know you’re okay.”
“I’ll miss you too. And I promise.” I smacked a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to get to work now.”
He shifted his gaze to my left, his thick brows slashing down at whatever he must have seen on Nash’s face. “Go. We’ll talk about your exit package later.”
I refused to look in Nash’s direction, but I could feel his approach like a physical touch. My stomach protested as I sensed him coming closer.
“I didn’t hear you complaining when I was on my knees for you, Nash.”
“Putting my cock in your mouth was the only way to get you to shut the fuck up.”
The memory was like whiplash, jarring me so quickly, every muscle in my body tensed. Nausea had sweat beading on my brow and upper lip. While I’d been at Sam’s, I’d refused to allow myself to think about that part of the conversation I’d overheard. It was easy not to dwell on it when Nash wasn’t right in front of me. But with his long strides eating up the distance between us, it was impossible to dismiss it any longer.
“E-excuse me. I need the ladies’ room.” Rushing behind the desk, I took a right and pushed into the employee bathroom with only a few seconds to spare before I was emptying the piece of dry toast and weak ginger tea Stef had made me for breakfast into the toilet.
Heaving, I barely heard the handle to the door jiggle. “Delilah, you can’t hide from me in there.” A thump shook the door. “Come out and talk to me, damn it.”
Retching again, I groaned and sank to my knees. I didn’t want to think about the wet spots that I felt on my knees through my dress. Greg from the front desk was on duty, and he couldn’t hit the bowl to save his life.
“Delilah?”
I didn’t have time to respond. My stomach cramped, causing me to whine. Morning sickness was the worst. Figured that Nash’s baby would be just as mean to me as he was.
“Delilah, are you okay?” My reply was to vomit again.
“Fuck!” I thought I heard him bellow, but I was kind of busy attempting not to face-plant in the mess I was making and Greg’s pee. Ugh. Guys were so disgusting. He hadn’t even lifted the lid.
I was going to need a long, scalding shower before I felt clean again, if I ever did.
A loud crash startled me enough to lift my head from the toilet. If I didn’t feel like death warmed over, I might have laughed at the sight that greeted me.
Nash stood in the open doorway, his eyes wild, face pale, while the bathroom door hung at an unexpected angle. Breathing heavily, he rolled his shoulder. It took my brain a few seconds to restart before I realized he’d broken the door. As I was wrapping my head around that, he crossed to where I was kneeling on the floor.
“Baby,” he rasped. “You’re sick.”
“Very astute, Captain Obvious.” I reached for a little tissue to wipe my mouth. My nose was running, and my eyes were all watery. I had pee on me that wasn’t my own, and I wasn’t sure, but I thought I had a piece of mushy toast in my hair.
Several people stood in the doorway as he crouched down beside me. Embarrassment burned my face as I heard them whispering.
Nash brushed my hair back from my face, his hazel eyes full of concern as they skimmed over my face. “Are you done? Do you think you can manage long enough for me to get you upstairs?”
I wanted to tell him to go to hell—and take Nicole with him—but my stomach didn’t give me the chance. Turning my head, I puked again, only getting half in the toilet, the rest dripping into a puddle at my knees.
Could a woman die from morning sickness?
Because I wanted to.