Method(21)

Nova: Gabriela Parker will meet with you the first of next week.



She’s willing to give me answers as to why she keeps bringing Blake’s name up and I’m not sure I want to know them, but I don’t have much of a choice.

What the hell did you do, brother?



Set it up.





Mila



Cradling the phone to my ear, I glance into Lucas’s office. He’s focused on his script, a large stack of books he’s ordered for research sit next to him as he scans the pages. Since his meeting with Wes, he’s spent most of his time in his office and thrown himself into preparations. He’s consumed already, and it’s just a matter of time before he flips the switch and starts to isolate more and more. I quietly pad down the hall and close our bedroom door behind me.

“Mila, so good to hear from you.”

“Yanni, thank you so much for the gift. It was much too generous.”

“You’re most welcome. I was eager to get your attention,” he says with a hopeful rise to his voice. “I’m hoping we could have lunch at my Bistro, if you are interested.”

“I’m very interested, I told Lucas last night that I was wanting to take on a project closer to home.”

“This is good news. I’m so very happy to hear it. How about I email you the details and we can set up a date?”

“Sounds perfect, Yanni. Thank you for thinking of me. Talk soon.”

“Au revoir.”

Working with a Michelin star chef to open a world-class bistro comes close to a dream for me. Whatever his reasons are for using my services, I’m grateful. Yanni is a concept chef, and instead of a traditional menu, he uses poems or haikus. It’s all very deliberate and carefully crafted for an experience. For the first time in years, I feel like I’ll be a part of something productive. The text from Amanda comes through just as I’m stepping into the shower and I message her back telling her I’ll be there as soon as I’m dressed. Submerged under the flowing water, I dread the hours to come. I can’t imagine losing Lucas twice, once to divorce, and then to death and then having to sort through the remains of the life he lived without me. Rushing my shower, I step out to see my husband waiting by the counter with the towel.

“Hey, you,” I say, wringing out my hair before I take it from him. “I have to run out for a little while. I didn’t want to bother you.”

He pulls me to stand in front of him, his eyes roaming appreciatively down my dripping form. “You never bother me, Dame.”

Warmth washes over me with the way his eyes glitter. We spent last night polite enough to each other but avoiding conversation. He read his script on the opposite end of the couch until the late hours of the night. I woke in his arms as he carried me to bed. He lay me down gently, kissing me softly before drawing the covers over me. Our eyes met and held until he pulled away. It was as if he was trying to tell me something.

He turns me now to face the mirror and slides his hands around my abdomen. He doesn’t have to say a word with the longing in his eyes.

“I really need to go.” It’s the truth, but I avert my gaze so I can’t see the disappointment in his face. It comes across in his tone instead. “Where are you going?”

I have to lie. Have to.

“I just want to pick up a few bottles and test them out before my meeting with Yanni.”

That part was truthful. I hadn’t kept current with the new labels, and I had a lot of catching up to do.

“Yanni?”

“Yanni Renaut, he’s the one who sent the bottle. I don’t know why he wants to use me instead of trusting his palate, but I’m excited.”

“It’s because you’re good at what you do,” he says, a pensive look on his face.

“Yeah, well if my success is based on my husband’s taste in wine…” We share a short-lived inside grin.

“So, why is Amanda texting you that she’s on her way?”

Dammit.

I look to see my phone flash with the incoming message I didn’t acknowledge when she answered me back.

Busted and ashamed, I lower my gaze. “I’m going to help her clean out Blake’s apartment.”

His eyes flare. “You weren’t going to tell me?”

I lift my head, looking directly at him. He’s so beautiful, especially when he’s pissed. There’s something so supremely sexy about a man when he’s at his worst temperament, his standoff demeanor makes me want to get closer to the fire. It’s a bad habit being attracted to him this way, but Lucas is the master of angry fucking.

Was I going to tell him? “No, I wasn’t.”

“Well, that’s just fucking fantastic, wife. You know there will be cameras there. Did you really think you would be able to keep this from me?”

“I hoped I would,” I admit honestly.

His jaw sets, and I can’t help but take a step forward for some of that heat. He angles his head away from my touch and then steps away from me completely.

“Lucas, I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and Amanda needs the help.”

“Do you care how I feel about it now?” he asks, peeling off his clothes.

“Yes.”

“I’m fine with it,” he says with a sigh, surprising me.