25. Lorelei

25

LORELEI

I f I didn't have very, very vivid memories of Sunday, then I'd be questioning if it really happened.

I turned up at work on Monday morning and it was business as usual.

Kian had reverted back to the hard businessman I've always known him to be.

I want to say that I'm disappointed that the softer side of him seems to have vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, but honestly, I'm not.

It's much easier to hate him and keep a level head when he is barking orders at me and dragging me here, there and everywhere for meetings that really should have been fucking emails.

I barely saw him all day yesterday. He was in meetings all day that didn't require my presence. So instead of having to tend to his needs and demands, I was able to spend the day at my desk getting through some of the tasks he'd given me and the hordes of emails he'd forwarded to me to deal with.

It also gave me time to get to know Melissa better. She helped me with everything I couldn't do, and we had lunch together. It was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn't Kian. Not that we did a lot of talking. He mostly either issued demands or completely ignored my existence.

It should be fine, but there's a part of me that has been mourning the loss of the man I spent Sunday with.

It's stupid. I really need to get over myself, because it's more than apparent that he has.

I've just lowered my ass to my seat and placed my coffee on my desk Thursday morning when the phone rings.

I suck in a deep breath when I see that it's Kian as I prepare to deal with his first demand of the day.

"Good morning, Boss," I purr, loving the way his own breath hitches down the line. Something tells me that he won't think I heard it, but I did. Loud and clear.

He might act like Sunday didn't happen, but he remembers just as clearly as I do. I know he does.

"My office, Lorelei." I lower the phone from my ear, not bothering to even respond to his rude demand. "And bring coffee."

"Would love to," I snap once I've hung up.

"Kian's here today then?" Melissa laughs.

"And in a fantastic mood, it seems," I say as I gather my things up.

When Melissa went out yesterday, we did a little shopping as well as grabbing lunch, and I found the most perfect office supplies.

I couldn't help myself. And as I clutch my new notebook to my chest, I giggle like a naughty schoolgirl.

Kian is going to love it.

With both our cups of coffee in hand, I attempt to smoothly let myself into his office, seeing as the jerk has shut the door despite demanding my presence while carrying loads of shit.

"Good morning, Miss Tempest."

Oh good, we're on surname basis this morning.

"Sir," I sneer.

I keep my eyes focused on where I'm going instead of looking directly at him.

He's not the only one who can be an asshole.

After placing our coffees on his desk, I take a seat and then lower both my notebook and pen in front of me.

"We need to go through my calendar for the rest of the month. I have some travel plans that need—" He abruptly stops talking, and I fight to keep the smirk off my face. "What the fuck is that?" he barks.

"What is what, sir?" I ask sweetly, finally looking up at him.

He's wearing a navy blue shirt with a silver tie. His hair is styled, and the scruff on his chin has been trimmed to perfection. He looks the total opposite of what he did with his messy hair, scruffy beard and football jersey on Sunday.

I miss that version of him.

"That?" he barks, his eyes dropping to my notebook.

"Oh, it's new. Do you like it?" I ask, holding it up to face him to ensure he can read it.

His eyes narrow.

"I'm not sure a notebook with ‘things I don't give a fuck about' written across the front is entirely appropriate."

"Do you not? Well, that's a shame," I mutter, placing my notebook back down and flipping it open. "Now, please continue. You wanted to discuss your schedule."

I grab my pen, making sure the writing down the barrel is facing him too.

It says, "This meeting is shit," and I know he's really going to appreciate it.

Sucking in a deep, steeling breath, he opens up his calendar and begins talking me through it.

Hours pass as he makes plans and I scribble notes to make sure I don't forget any of it.

I have a whole list of meetings, both in person and virtual, that I need to organize along with a whole host of things.

As we close in on lunch, my stomach begins to growl—and none too quietly, either.

One particular growl is so loud it makes Kian look away from his computer screen with a scowl on his face.

Despite wanting to apologize, my lips remain closed.

He doesn't deserve an apology when he's the one stopping me from eating.

"I have a gala on tomorrow night," he explains. "My suit will be delivered here this afternoon. If you could get it to Jamie when it does, I'd appreciate it."

"Would you rather me pick it up from the dry cleaners and then deliver it home for you? Perhaps I could help dress you in it as well?" The second I say those last few words, I regret them. The man from Sunday night would definitely take me up on the offer, and that is not the version of Kian Callahan I am facing right now.

"That won't be necessary," he says tersely.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. I might be annoyed that I've got to intercept his dry cleaning, but it's nowhere near as bad as finding myself in the middle of his fancy penthouse. I'm already more involved in his life than I want to be.

"That leads us to travel plans. Next week, I'd like to?—"

A knock on the door cuts his words off.

He looks at me as if I know who it is. But when I say nothing, he finally concedes.

"Come in," he commands.

Honestly, I'm expecting it to be Kingston, or maybe even Micheal, so when the door opens to reveal what is probably the most stunning woman I've ever laid eyes on, I can't help but give her a double take.

As shockingly beautiful as she is, and as well as her obviously designer clothes fit her, it's the picnic basket hanging from her fingers that really catches my attention.

"We're in a meeting, Sasha," Kian says sharply.

"I can see that, sweetie. But it's lunchtime and?—"

Pushing to my feet, I close my notebook, more than grateful for the interruption and the reason to escape.

The woman—Sasha—steps farther into the room as I retreat toward the door.

Almost instantly, I notice just how tall she is.

Christ.

Any self-confidence I might possess withers and dies, seeping from my feet and into the floor as I step up to her.

What the hell was Kian thinking Sunday night when he has this woman at his beck and call? And she comes with food. I bet there is caviar and champagne in that basket.

He took me for wings, for fuck's sake.

With a discreet shake of my head, I duck out of the office.

"I'm going out for lunch. We can continue this after," I mutter.

I take off, my heels clicking against the tiled floor as I leave Kian to his supermodel lunch date.

Something unpleasant swirls in my stomach, and as I approach Mellissa's desk, she also looks less than impressed.

"Everything okay?" I ask hesitantly.

"She just…she…" Melissa huffs in irritation. "Just because she's young and pretty, it doesn't mean the world owes her anything."

Okaaay.

"I'm going to grab some lunch. Would you like me to get you anything?" I ask, forcing a smile on my face in the hope of looking unaffected by Sasha and her picnic basket. I bet she doesn't even have plastic plates and cups. I bet it's fine China and crystal in there.

"Cake would be fantastic. I'm having one of those days."

You and me both.

"Did you want to come with? We could?—"

"I can't, I'm due in a meeting momentarily. But thank you for the offer."

With a smile, I grab my purse from beneath my desk and head out, more than ready to put some space between me and the romantic picnic happening in Kian's office.

I've almost managed to escape the building when a familiar voice calls my name.

Spinning around, I find Tate talking to a security guard.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I ask.

"Coming to take my bestie for lunch. Why else would I be here, silly?" she says with a wide smile. "So, what do you fancy?"

"Umm…"

"You're right. That sandwich place a couple of blocks down. That's exactly what I'm craving."

With a laugh, I say, "Sounds good, T."

Linking her arm with mine, she leads me from the building.

I shouldn't need a distraction from Kian and his supermodel, but fuck, I really do.

" H e's busy," Melissa informs me once I've returned from lunch and delivered her a mouthwatering piece of chocolate cake.

"Still?" I balk.

My lunch with Tate might have run over a little—enough that I'd no doubt receive a dressing down about my punctuality if Kian were to notice, but it seems that he's still otherwise engaged.

Images of what the two of them could be doing behind those darkened floor-to-ceiling windows make a shudder rip through me.

Melissa smiles sadly at me, and I cringe.

He's just my boss; why should I care what he's doing right now?

"Great. At least that will give me a chance to catch up."

Pulling my office chair out, I drop down into it a little heavier than intended and reach for my notebook, staring at the cover.

Things I don't give a fuck about…

My boss screwing a supermodel over his desk.

That is something I really don't give a fuck about.

I lose myself booking in all the meetings he's requested, along with a host of things that were added to my endless to-do list while we were talking.

Hours pass, but neither he nor his model emerge, and as the end of the day approaches, I find myself glancing down the hallway more and more frequently.

I've had no emails or messages, no phone calls demanding anything.

Nothing but radio silence.

I should love the peace. But…I kinda hate it.

Deciding against going down there to say goodbye, I tidy up and shut my computer down almost ten minutes after the time I should leave for the day. If he's expecting me to hang around while he has an afternoon-long fuck fest with Sasha, then he's got another thing coming.

Melissa has already left to run an errand for King, so without looking back, I step into the elevator, more than ready to put the day behind me.

With plans for my evening spinning around my head, I ignore everyone else who steps into the car with me. Seeing as I came from the top floor, I end up squashed at the back, something which I'm sure never happens to Kian. I'm the last to leave—everyone else has already rushed out of the building, ready to enjoy what's left of the sunshine.

The sight of Kian's car sitting out front makes my stomach tighten, and it only gets worse when Jamie notices me and pushes the door open as if he's going to come over.

Not wanting to get into an argument with him, I put my head down and hurry down the sidewalk, hoping to blend in with the crowd.

"Excuse me," I say, when someone steps right in front of me.

I attempt to dart around him without bothering to look up and realize my mistake the second his voice hits my ears.

"Lorelei, I miss you. Please."

Oh, for the love of fuck.

Finally, I lift my head and look Matt dead in the eyes.

"That's a real shame. Maybe you should have thought about that before lying to me.I have somewhere I need to be. Excuse me."

I try once again to get around him, but he isn't having any of it. His hand darts out and he grips my upper arm tightly enough to hurt. It's nothing like the way Kian held me Sunday night. He wasn't gentle, but he also wasn't vicious and angry like Matt seems to be right now.

He's got a fire burning behind his eyes, and it's not the good kind.

"I see you managed to make your dream come true," he sneers. "But then I guess it's easy now that Tate has married in."

"I'm not listening to this," I hiss, trying to free myself from his grip. "We're done, Matt. I am not interested in anything that comes out of your lying mouth."

"I just want you to reply," he says, sounding hopeless all of a sudden. But I don't get a chance to focus on the sudden shift in his emotions because his hand loosens on my arm a second before he stumbles back, crashing into the building. A dark shadow looms over him as he clutches his face. A face that Kian Callahan's fist just plowed into.