Big Shot(49)

They needed to talk, but he needed a moment . . . to get rid of the condom and to clear his head so he could think straight. He moved away from her and helped her down from the desk, and she immediately tugged the hem of her skirt to cover herself, the euphoria they’d both just enjoyed quickly dissipating. He could see and feel her emotionally withdrawing, replacing the smart-alecky, straightforward woman he’d spent the last two weeks with, and had fallen hard for, with a far too serious demeanor.

“I’ll be right back, so don’t go anywhere,” he said lightly, trying to keep calm until he figured out what was going on with her.

He went into the bathroom that adjoined his office and quickly cleaned up, washed his hands, and tucked everything back in. When he returned, he half expected her to be gone, but thank God, she was still there. She was no longer behind his desk. She’d moved over to the windows overlooking the city, her arms crossed over her chest as if she was trying to protect herself from something, but he had no idea what.

He joined her, hating the tangible walls she’d put up. She was probably preparing herself for him to end things, as they’d agreed—as he’d always dealt with his relationships—but it was the furthest thing from what he had in mind. He’d just spent the absolute best two weeks with a woman he’d known for most of his life. His best friend’s little sister, his business adversary, his frenemy, and the thought of dating her exclusively for the foreseeable future didn’t make him break out in hives. In fact, it made him feel . . . complete.

He quietly exhaled a deep breath. “Natalie . . . I was hoping we could talk.”

She shook her head, and when her gaze met his, his gut twisted at the sadness he saw glimmering in the depths. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you first.”

Whatever she had to say, he suddenly didn’t want to hear it, because his entire body was telling him to brace for the worst. But even if she believed they were through, he still had the chance to change her mind about them, right?

“Okay,” he said, shoving his hands deep into the front pockets of his slacks. Ladies first and all that.

“A few weeks ago, a recruiter contacted me about a position with a high-profile realty firm in Atlanta that was interested in hiring me, based on my current portfolio,” she said. “It’s a small, privately owned company with room for advancement and great benefits, and it’s exactly the kind of move I’m looking to make in my career. I’m letting them know on Monday that I’m taking the job.”

He felt blindsided, though he shouldn’t have been. She’d always been honest about her aspirations, in business and with her desire to be in a committed relationship with a man that led to marriage and babies—which he’d blatantly scorned that night they’d discussed his parents’ marriage and subsequent nasty divorce.

With every word she spoke, his confidence spiraled and his hopes dwindled. A job offer wasn’t something he could compete with—hell, he’d already turned down her desire to work for Premier Realty—and why would she stay with him, a player with no real track record with women, when she’d been offered a sure thing? Yeah, he’d gone into this affair knowing he was her transition guy, but f*ck, it hurt.

“When?” he asked, forcing the question out.

“In about a month,” she replied softly, a sudden moisture in her eyes. “I’ll need time to pack up and move, to sell my place . . .”

Don’t go. The plea got stuck in his throat, not because he was afraid to speak the words but because he knew he didn’t have the right to ask her to stay.

“They’ll be lucky to have you,” he said instead, and could have sworn she flinched at what he’d meant as a compliment.

“Thanks.” She gave him a half-hearted smile, her voice tight with the unshed tears he saw in her eyes. “I need to go.”

When she turned around and walked away, he didn’t try and stop her, but his aching heart knew she was taking a piece of him with her. That he’d never be the same once she walked out of his office, out of his life.

She opened the door and gasped in shock to find her brother, Connor, standing out in the hallway. As soon as he saw his sister and what was probably anguish on her face, his own expression turned protective . . . and f*cking furious.

“Natalie, what’s wrong?” he asked gruffly.

She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, but her cracking voice said otherwise. “I’m fine.”

She brushed past Connor and her brother watched her go with a concerned frown. Once she was out of the building, Connor turned his head and pinned Wes with a near violent stare that was just as livid as his next words.

“What the f*ck is going on?”





Chapter Sixteen





Wes stood his ground as Connor stalked into his office, his shirt and jeans stained with dirt and grime from working on one of their properties they were flipping, his jaw clenched tight with anger. He stopped in front of Wes, his gaze blazing with displeasure and another sentiment that looked very much like betrayal.

The first emotion Wes could have dealt with. The second one was far more difficult to digest and made him feel like complete and utter shit. Connor was his best friend, and had been since before they were even teenagers. He was the guy who’d always had his back in any given situation, and there was no doubt in Wes’s mind that Connor trusted Wes implicitly.