Chapter Twenty-One
Zach stood across the desk from Avery. His lips were moving, but all Avery heard was, “Blah, blah, blah…”
He sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face.
Fuck, he couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and his mood had become as dark as Nick’s.
Hell, he’d fired Zach twice in one day, but the guy stuck around, going above and beyond to help him try to find Jo.
They’d hit a dead end. “I’m sorry, what? ”
“You asked if Nick was back from his meeting. He’s in his office.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you need anything else before I head out?”
Avery looked at his watch. Five thirty. Zach hadn’t left that early, not even on a Friday, since…well, ever. Not that Avery blamed him. “No, have a good weekend.”
Zach turned to go.
“Zach?”
He paused at the door. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for all your help this week. I’m sorry about my shit attitude. It won’t happen again.”
“Let’s hope not,” Zach called out as he disappeared around the door.
Avery winced at the subtle warning and whirled to face the skyline, the angry dark clouds and violent thunder reminding him of his behavior on Wednesday. He’d woken up hungover, pissed, and feeling sorry for himself—a fucked up combination. Zach had taken the brunt of his bad mood.
A raise was definitely in order. Jo wouldn’t approve. Well, she would, but she’d tell him he couldn’t solve everything with money.
“Fuck, Jo.” He planted his elbows on his desk, his head in his hands. His gut twisted as it did every time he thought of her, which meant every fucking second of every fucking day.
The second Jo had shut the door, he knew he’d fucked up. He’d wanted to go after her, to find a way to convince her to stay, but he’d stuck to his decision to let her go. Hard as it was, he’d done it for her. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do, and he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t.
He’d replayed all the things she’d said. More importantly, the things he suspected she’d wanted him to say. But he’d refused to lie to Jo. He wanted her. He loved being with her, talking to her, laughing with her, holding her, taking care of her. But did he love her?
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump.
He pulled out his phone and stared at the photo of Jo on his screen saver. The smile on her face ripped right through him. She had flour in her hair and buttercream on her cheek that he’d smeared there. The act had led to a messy frosting war, and he’d licked it off every inch of her.
He ran a thumb over her cheek. “I never should have let you go.”
But he’d been determined not to hurt her, so he followed her lead. A clean break now rather than later. Both of them moving on with their lives.
Yeah, that was a joke. The night she left, he’d rolled to her side of the bed, needing to smell the vanilla lingering on her pillow, to feel close to her, but nothing had eased the ache in his chest.
Monday morning, he’d gone through the motions of going to work and pretending nothing was wrong.
Then his mom had called to check on him and Jo after the incident at the museum, and he’d been compelled by some unholy force to confess everything.
The PG version, anyway. She hadn’t said much, but the disappointment in her silence was deafening. Just one more fuck up.
Then he’d gone home to find his housekeeper had been there and stripped Jo’s scent from his bed, every trace of her wiped clean. Except for the clothes he’d bought her. They still hung in his fucking closet like ghosts left to haunt him.
An incoming text notification popped up at the top of the screen. Several followed. The Sigmas.
With a groan, Avery slumped deeper into his chair and scrolled to the group chat.
Dane: Jet fueled. Bar stocked. Flight leaves at 8:55. Don’t fucking be late.
Linc: Heading that way.
Bryce: Have a good time.
Kade: Traffic’s a bitch, but I’ll be there asap.
Dane: Anyone heard from Mav?
Blaze: No, but I bet he pussies out. omw
Bryce sent another text privately.
Bryce: Why aren’t you answering my texts?
Because I don’t want to hear a fucking, “I told you so.”
Avery: Been busy.
Bryce: Call me when you get back.
Avery snorted. He hadn’t even finished packing.
Yesterday, he woke up in a dark place. She didn’t want him, then fuck it. He was going to Greece. Why not? He was free again and single.
But last night, every item he placed in his suitcase added a new knot in his chest. He’d tried to ignore it, telling himself, “Come on, man, just think. Water, wine, women.”
Closing his eyes, he’d pictured whitewashed walls lining the coast of Santorini.
Turquoise water from the Aegean Sea. Beaches of volcanic sand where the party never ended.
A glass of Vinsanto in his hand. And a Grecian beauty walking toward him, barefoot, her dress billowing in the wind to offer a glimpse of long, sleek legs, and the sun catching on the waves of dark red hair.
To quote Gage, he was fucking toast.
Muffled footsteps pulled Avery upright just before Nick’s reflection in the window had Avery spinning in his chair to face him. “Hey.”
“Zach said you were looking for me.”
Avery shrugged. “Just thought you might want to go for a drink.”
Marcus strolled in behind Nick. “Shouldn’t you be at the airport by now?”
Spencer brought up the rear. “Yeah, I thought you were headed to Greece for a week.”
Marcus sank into one of the chairs in the sitting area where Avery met clients. “You’re not going, are you?”
“I can still make it,” Avery grumbled.
If I wanted to.
Spencer kicked up his feet on the sofa. “I’m sure most of the flights are delayed due to the weather, even private jets. Text Dane. I’m sure he’ll wait for you.”
Marcus tugged off his tie. “Or you could catch a commercial flight later.”
Assholes were yanking his chain, but Avery joined them, knocking Spencer’s feet off the couch and settling in for the brother bash.
“Is this another fucking intervention?” He glanced at Nick. “You got anything to add?”
“Nah, this is their show. I’m just here for the entertainment.” Nick took the last open chair, stretched out his legs, and steepled his fingers over his stomach. “But first, let me give you a brief rundown of the events from Saturday night, according to the police.
“As I mentioned that night, they had issued a warrant for an arrest. What they weren’t saying was that they’d picked up Chase for more questioning, and he offered new information that led to a search warrant for Giselle’s home, business, and vehicles.
It seems they discovered rope, duct tape, zip ties, and chloroform in a hidden compartment in her catering van. ”
“Jesus Christ.” Avery’s whole body shuddered, and a cold sweat coated his skin as he relived the moment he’d looked up to see Giselle holding a gun on Jo. The thought of how close she’d come to death made him want to puke…and fucking hurt someone.
“But she’s safe now,” Nick reminded him.
“Admit it,” Marcus persisted. “You care about Jo, and you miss her.”
Avery rubbed a hand over his face to scrub away the memories. “Yeah.”
Spencer nodded approvingly, like the teacher measuring the student. “Then you know you screwed up.”
“Yes, I fucked up.” Avery set his fingers in motion, waiting for the constructive part of this intervention. Thump, thump, thump, thump.
“And you fell in love with her.”
That was where Avery balked. “I’ve never fucking been in love.” He drove his fingers through his hair and blew out a long breath. “How the fuck am I supposed to know if that’s what I feel?”
Marcus scoffed. “If you’d spent more than five minutes with a woman, you might.”
Avery flipped him off. “I’m serious. How did you know you loved Charlotte?”
A volley of questions came at him, one after another from Marcus and Spencer, like a pitching machine on crack.
“Do you think about her all the time?”
“Do you miss her when she’s not with you?”
“Do you physically ache when you’re not with her?”
“Besides the physical, do you want to be with her all the time?”
Yes, yes, yes, and yes.
“Does the idea of her being with someone else make you insanely jealous?”
“Does it make you hurt so bad you think you’re dying?”
Fuck, he hadn’t even thought of Jo moving on to someone else. The idea of her having been with Murdick had been bad enough, and that was over and in the past. Imagining her with a lover now was like a punch to the gut.
“Do you love the way she smiles?”
“The way she laughs?”
“The way she smells?”
“Simply holding her hand?”
“Just being in the same room?”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Avery held up his hands.
“Those are just a drop in the bucket,” Spencer said. “The list is endless, and they’re not all good.”
Marcus nodded. “Like when she’s stubborn.”
“You want to talk stubborn?” Avery rolled his head against the back of the sofa to look at his brothers. “She reversed the bank transfers.”
Except for the first three, and he didn’t have to guess why. Once they started having sex, she’d said she was uncomfortable getting paid and made up a new rule to justify it.
At the time, he thought she made it up because she liked the addition of sex to their agreement and wanted to stay, but now, he wondered if it was because she didn’t really care about the money and stayed because she’d fallen for him.
Spencer hissed through his teeth. “Damn.”
“That’s not stubborn.” Marcus shook his head. “That’s brutal.”
“Actually, I’d say that’s admirable.” Leave it to Nick to see the other side of the coin. “She doesn’t want you to carry her. She wants to make it on her own.”
“I wasn’t trying to carry her. I was trying to help.” But the point stuck with him. Maybe he’d gone a little overboard. “I bought her a building.”
Spencer scratched stubble under his chin, clearly confused. “Most guys buy flowers.”
“I did that once. She gave them back to the florist. Said the scent interfered with the taste of her pastries.”
“Why did you buy her a building?” Marcus asked.