Chapter 16
I glance across the conference table at Dora before hastily looking away.
I'm paying half attention to the sales projection report being presented by William, the Chief Data Analyst at Prime.
The other half of my attention is on her .
Dora. Something changed between my text on Friday night and Saturday evening because she hasn't replied to my texts or returned my calls, which is very unlike her.
That something is what I would love to know.
I'd been sick with worry all weekend, but too scared to show up at her apartment uninvited.
When she arrived at the office this morning in one piece, my worry eased.
Sadly, it wasn't for long. I can't forget her response when she walked into her office to find me sitting on top of her desk with a smile on my face.
Her expression remained placid. She turned to shut the door, offering me a clipped, “Good morning, Sir.”
I frowned at the formal way she chose to address me. “Sir?” I asked with a small smile. “Dora? What’s going on?”
She only gave me a cool smile as she settled into her chair, but before she could respond, Sally popped her head through the door to remind me of the eight a.m. meeting with the executives, Dora included.
Which is where we are now. Although I'm confused by this sudden change in her, I have to admit that I'm sort of relieved.
The two days I spent in Chicago made me aware that I was growing too attached to her.
Besides, the pact I made with Dean so many years ago is still fresh in my mind.
Yet, her cold shoulder pricks me like a million pins.
Did I say or do something wrong? I frown as I stare at the projector screen.
But she'd been responding eagerly to my sexting.
So, where did everything go south? Still frowning, deep in thought, I glance around to see everyone's eyes on me. William’s voice finally pierces through my foggy thoughts.
“…not to your liking?” I only catch the tail end of his question.
I wave his concerns away, my head spinning as I try to recall what he'd been talking about so I can decide the best response to fit without showing I've been absent-minded.
“No, don't mind me,” I begin. “Go on. I was thinking about some statistics I read before leaving St Louis.”
Appeased by my answer, William resumes droning on.
St Louis. That's where I'd bumped into Renee Dugan, my on-and-off international model girlfriend. I’d been walking out of my hotel, eyes glued to my phone, awaiting Dora's reply to one of my many erotic texts when I'd bumped into her.
My phone and her purse went flying. Without knowing who she was, I went in search of the contents of her purse on the pavement of The Royale Suites.
I was in the middle of an apology when I finally looked at her face and the rest of my apology died in my throat.
She chuckled and hugged me before pressing her lips to mine.
With no intention to embarrass her, I kissed her back and returned her hug.
Still, I made the kiss brief and stepped back, only for her to wave my phone in her hands and ask if I was pulling back because of Dora and why I was sexting with my best friend's kid sister.
Caught in the act, I'd done the one thing I could think of — I downplayed my affair with Dora.
I also chastised her for snooping through my texts.
Just like that, Renee wormed her way back into my life.
I even had to lie to Dora about my return date, simply because Renee had invited herself on my private jet for my return trip home.
The most annoying part was that because I had lied about my return date, I couldn't show up at my office apartment for fear someone might see me and the news would get back to Dora.
So, for the first time since we began dating five years ago, I brought Renee to my house.
I return to the present to give a closing remark before dismissing the meeting.
The words are barely out of my lips when I see Dora shooting out the door, deep in conversation with Hugh.
I clamp down on the need to call her back, as I want to avoid drawing attention to both of us.
Renee being aware of our affair is one pair of ears enough. No extras are needed.
A few days pass and I'm still reeling from Dora's cold brush-off. Her workload has made seeing her privately during working hours an absolute impossibility. That is until Dean calls to share his concerns about Dora's new behavior.
“She's so distant and doesn't say much when we talk. Can you help me check on her? Find out if you're stressing her too much with work or whatever's got her down,” Dean pleads, and I smile.
Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I promise to check on Dora. As soon as he confirmed that his one-month honeymoon would be ending soon, I got off the call with him. With my new mission in mind, I buzz Sally to get hold of Dora.
“Tell her it's an emergency from her brother,” I fib easily. Technically, it isn't a lie. Soon, Dora is marching to my desk, with panicky lines marring her face.
“Dean…” she begins, but I cut in.
“Is fine. Please take a seat, Dora.” She eyes me warily before accepting my offer.
No sooner has her buttocks touched the chair than she asks, “Was that a ruse to get me here, Mr. Prime?”
Her use of my former name irks me. So I lean back on my chair with my hands lifted as a peace treaty. “No. I don't need a ruse to get you here. Your brother called sick with worry about your recent behavior, and I am too. We both want to get to the bottom of your sudden ice queen approach.”
She stares at me for a full minute before replying, “While I hate that my brother had to share this concern with you, I understand why. But I owe you no explanation. I'll speak to my brother,” she adds, rising to her feet in preparation to leave. Her easy dismissal of me sends my blood boiling.
“Sit down, Dora,” I bark. She flinches at my tone, but she obeys. “What's with the attitude? Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?”
She looks everywhere but at me, so I soften my voice. “Have I done something wrong? Tell me, and I can make it right.” At that, she scoffs, before pinning me with a cool look.
“For a renowned player, I'm shocked that you can't read between the lines. Do I have to spell it out for you first?” She rolls her eyes at me and an inkling of fear slithers up my spine. Player? Where had that come from? Realizing I’m fast losing control of the situation, I decide to dip into my box of charms.
“Dee…” I begin in a buttery voice, “I can't seem to understand why I'm the target. We were doing fine, heck I was looking forward to eating you out in my car…”
“Mr. Prime… Cole,” she cuts in, a frosty smile on her lips. “What we had was a fling, two adults enjoying good ole sex for a few days. I've moved on, and so should you.”
Her words are like a slap to my face. Where is the sweet Dora I know?
Something is wrong. I end flings and not the other way around.
Dora isn't even a fling! What we had…have…
is too good to be belittled as a fling. Desperation is clawing up my throat, and like one clutching for straw, I use the last weapon in my arsenal — her desire for me.
Replacing the shock on my face with one of lust, I rounded my desk to kneel by her chair.
“Dee…” I whisper, taking hold of her fists to straighten her fingers while peppering each finger with kisses.
“Don't you remember how good we are together? Have you forgotten all the pleasures we gave each other with both our hands and lips?”
When my lips get to her forefinger, I slip it into my mouth and begin to suck on it. Ever so slowly, I raise my head to meet her eyes, hoping to see her eyes smoldering. Instead, I meet a look of pure disgust.
“Maybe I didn't make myself clear before.
And maybe you didn't get the memo, but I thought actions speak louder than words,” she says, jerking her hand away from my grasp to clean her finger in short jerky movements on a handkerchief she pulls out of her pocket.
She completes her task momentarily and glares at me, “Cole, this is the first and the last time I’ll ever tell you this.
We are done. It was fun while it lasted.
You scratched my itch, and I scratched yours, end of story.
Now, if you'll excuse me…” Shoves her chair backward, straightens, and strides out of my office.
I remain there on my knees, rigid from shock and incredulity. An itch? The heck? Reality finally crashes in. Dora just broke up with me.