Friction(57)

And that scares the hell out of me.

Two and a half weeks later, I'm in the middle of chatting with Katia from Lorelei’s when Griff raps lightly on my office door, poking his head inside. Asking her to give me a moment, I cover the receiver and glance up at him. He's normally so playful that seeing his anxious expression immediately catches me off guard. "Is everything okay?"

His lips turn down into a deep frown. "Daisy is at lunch, but there's some guy out front asking for you." Before I can ask who it is—because I’m not expecting anyone and most of my appointments happen outside of the workshop— he delivers a blow that leaves me speechless. "He says he's your husband."

For a second, I wonder if he's just screwing with me.

Tom hasn't tried to contact me in the last week—since right after we shipped that massive order off to Amsterdam and I spent the night with Jace at his place for the first time—and I sure as hell haven't tried to get in touch with him.

"Are you—" I start, but I swallow my words when Griff cringes and bobs his head.

"Look, I didn't want to bother you, but the motherfucker said he wouldn't budge until he got to speak to you."

He won't budge. That sure as hell sounds like something Tom would say. "He’s not my husband anymore." I sound dazed. Why the fuck is my ex here at my job? Why isn’t he in San Francisco, where he should be, selling his crappy coffee? I give Griff a shaky smile. "L-let me just ... wrap up this call. Tell him I'll be out in a few."

For the next five minutes, I'm distracted as Katia and I speak about the IFD promotion. I anxiously tap my fingernails on my desk, wondering what’s prompted my former husband to make the trip to Boston, a city he's always loathed, without any warning. By the time I get off the phone, not only am I nauseous, I'm furious.

How dare he show up here? Considering I almost didn't have a job thanks to him, he has a lot of balls for coming.

Griff is still manning the front desk since Daisy hasn’t returned from lunch, but he's respectful enough not to glance up from her tablet when I storm into the reception area, my black hair flying behind me and my face already on fire from getting myself so worked up while I waited to confront Tom. Spotting my ex-husband in the same seat I sat in the day I interviewed, I bury my nails in my palms until I swear I draw blood. He looks the same as he had when I left him several months ago. He keeps his dark hair short and neatly trimmed and he still looks impeccable in an immaculately cut black business suit, but he makes my blood boil for all the wrong reasons now.

“Lucy, it’s so good to see you,” he breathes, standing and approaching me as soon as his sky blue eyes flick in my direction. His arms open wide, and my hands tighten into fists when he pulls me in for an embrace. He even smells the same, like Tom Ford Black Orchid, and for a moment I’m almost pulled in by what once was.

When Griff clears his throat, though, the trance breaks. I back away from my ex until the back of my body bumps against one of the filing cabinets on the other side of the room.

"Tom,” I start breathlessly, dragging my hands over my face. “What are you doing here?”

He gives me that charming smile, or at least the smile I led myself to believe was charming, and takes another step closer. “I want you back, Luce. I’ll go to any counselor you choose—I just want you to come home.”

“As long as I’m willing to work for you and Shane, that is.”

“Shane is no longer in the equation like that, but yes, I want you to come back to work. I’m planning on paying you back all the money you invested plus double what you’re making here. Think about it, Luce, it’s…”

My shoulders sag, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Shane and Tom hadn’t even been able to pay me back the money I invested in the company. How the hell does he expect me to buy his promise now? Even more importantly, how the hell does he expect me to just leave Boston to go back to San Francisco after all that’s happened between us?

“I’m not interested.”

“Luce, if you’d just—”

When I release a harsh sound from the back of my throat, cutting him off, I hear Griff shift around at Daisy’s desk. I glance up to find him staring at my ex, his eyes hard. "Do I need to get rid of this fuck, Lucy?" His stare never leaves Tom’s, so my ex holds up his hands defensively.

"I don't mean her any harm; I just want to talk to my wife without her ... new friends getting in the way." Returning his focus to me, he bows his head almost apologetically. I don’t buy it for even a split second. "Look, I had a conference here in Boston, and I wanted to try one more time before I leave. You ignore my calls and texts, so you at least owe me that."

"I don't owe you a thing," I snap.

"That's where you're wrong. I want to talk and I'm not leaving this"—he narrows his eyes and glances around the front office—"bullshit you’ve reduced yourself to until you've at least talked to me."

I’m ashamed of Tom. Of the way the insult he hurls at our building makes Griff flinch. At last, I give up on keeping the space between our bodies. Stalking over to him, I grip his arm and lead him toward the door. He already embarrassed me at my last job by cheating on me for months on end, and I'll be damned if I let him make me look like a fool here. "I'll be back in a few minutes," I mutter to Griffin, who tells me to call for him if I need anything, and then I step out into the cold. When I turn to Tom, a wave of nausea hits me as he skims one knuckle down the side of my face, I slap his hand away.