Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(54)

"I was talking about cats."

"Sure," she said and picked up the phone receiver in front of her. "Let me ask the doorman outside to hail you a cab."

A man's head popped out of the office behind the front desk, eyes scanning the reception area. His gaze landed on me. "You Emmy?"

Oh, hell no.

"Mr. Montgomery would like a word."

"I just bet he would. Tell him . . ." I sighed. Defeated. I had no fight left. "Just tell him . . . no."

"No? That's it?"

"Yes. Just tell him no."

The man shrugged and slunk back inside the office. The girl at the front desk was smirking. "Your cab is waiting."

"Thank you. Sorry about my outburst." I gathered up my stuff.

"It's fine," she said. "And I'm not sure if this helps or makes matters worse, but he, uh, Mr. Montgomery, only uses his room himself. He, uh, gets another one if he has, um, company . . ." she trailed off in obvious discomfort and scratched her nose.

"So that he doesn't have to actually spend the whole night with someone," I finished her sentence. "You're right, I don't know if that makes it better or worse." I walked away then stopped. "But thank you," I told her and headed out to my waiting cab.





26





Emmy





Sitting in the back of the cab, my lack of caffeine and late night with Trystan knocked me out.

"Lady," the cab driver yelled.

I snorted as I came to and wiped my mouth.

"We’re here."

I blinked, feeling like I'd woken from an eighty-year slumber. "Thanks. Sorry." After paying, I stumbled from the cab, making sure I had everything. Phone!

"Hey," I yelled as the cab driver pulled away. I abandoned my bag and went yelling out into the street after him. Luckily, there were no other cars coming that direction. The cab squealed to a stop.

"Lady!" the driver yelled out the window, his hand gesticulating a series of symbols I was sure were an A-Z of curse words in Urdu sign language.

"Sorry." I pulled open the back door, and of course there sat Trystan's phone. I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I said as the driver tutted and shook his head. I picked the phone up and closed the door, having to leap back as the car sped away. I almost lost my toes.



* * *



Suit Monkey: Are you actually alive? Can you at least tell me that?



* * *



Barely, I answered mentally. I exhaled hard. I had to talk to him. I knew it. And now my boss had made it necessary.



* * *



Yes.



* * *



What a cop-out. He'd know something was wrong, and I didn't want to act like a weirdo.



* * *



I'm good. Sorry just had a busy morning.



* * *



Suit Monkey: Sure.



* * *



He wasn't buying it one bit. And it sounded like my avoidance might've started pissing him off.

I cringed that the only reason I was communicating was because I needed something from him.



* * *



Any chance I got another text or email from my boss with a call-in number?



* * *



There was no immediate response. I negotiated my bag into the building and signed in. "Is D'Andre working today?" I asked the new lady at the sign-in desk.

"Nah. He's off Fridays," she responded.

I thanked her and trekked to Penny's office to let her know I was here. She was on the phone, but she waved at me, and I went to find David.



* * *



Suit Monkey: Email forwarded.



* * *



Thank you. TTYL



* * *



Suit Monkey: Sorry. I'm in my 30s. TTYL?



* * *



Talk to you later.



* * *



David had no recollection of his outing the day before and seemed in good spirits. It made me feel as if I had no reason to hang around. I should go home today, at the very least to get some balance. Some equilibrium. Then I'd also be able to use my laptop to follow up with the Medicaid consultant I'd told Penny I'd found. We'd spoken on and off for months but suddenly this week, I wasn't talking hypotheticals with David. I had to move him.

Flying back today was impossible though, and I couldn't stay at home. Trystan had rented my place for another night. This was so messed up.

I had about twenty minutes until I had to call in for the pitch. Raiding a vending machine downstairs, I made my way to the staff break room D'Andre had shown me and had a healthy lunch of a nut bar and a Snapple.

Then I went to Trystan's emails to find the one he'd forwarded for me. Underneath the one from my email were all his work emails. And lots about Montgomery Homes & Facilities in Charleston. And lo and behold one from a real estate company in Charleston. I couldn't help the bubble of stupid hope that fizzed up inside me. He'd said he'd been left some of his grandfather's business. Did this mean he might also be moving to Charleston? It took a colossal effort of will not to open the email and read it. I knew I was semi mad at him and annoyed at falling for his charms. But also the idea of not being remotely near each other's lives was equally . . . unpleasant. Him moving to Charleston could either be amazing or an absolute disaster in the making.