Overnight Wife(36)
I frown. “A good time for what?”
She hesitates again. Takes a deep breath. And then she steps toward my desk. Closer to me. “A good time for us to talk. About…” Her gaze darts down again. “Other things.”
“Bianca…”
But she’s already at my desk. Sliding onto it, in a way that all too obviously hikes up the hem of her skirt, revealing a clear slash of thigh. She’s not my type, never has been. But the move makes me wonder exactly how many higher-ups she’s used it on before now. “I wouldn’t blame you, if you were getting bored in here all by yourself. Or lonely.” She glances down again, pointedly, before her gaze locks back onto mine, her lips curved in a sly smile. “I can help distract you, boss.”
“No,” I say, more harshly than I meant for it to come out. I clear my throat with difficulty and rise from my chair. At least this conversation has been helping to kill my boner at a possibly record-breaking speed. “Bianca, whatever you think is happening here… it isn’t. Please leave.”
Her face flushes bright red, before it goes blanched and pale, emotions chasing themselves across her face. Surprise, then embarrassment… But she settles on anger by the end. Shoves off my desk with her fists balled. “Oh, so you prefer the butch muscular type, is that it?”
Not exactly words I’d use to describe Mara, but I can catch her drift. “I prefer my wife,” I respond coolly.
“She’s not good enough for you. Isn’t that obvious?” Bianca raises her chin, eyes narrowed.
It’s enough to spark fury in my own veins in response. “You need to leave. Now.”
She flashes me a furious glare as she storms toward the door. “You think you’ve had it tough, John Walloway?” Her voice comes out tight and angry. “You should learn what it really feels like to have your life ruined. Then we’d see how tough you really are. Or aren’t, without the whole world catering to your every whim…”
I don’t answer that. But when she slams the door behind her with one last glare, something sparks inside me.
Fear.
All I can think about is Mara. Mara, safe but oblivious at home, getting ready for our dinner date. You should learn what it really feels like to have your life ruined… What did she mean by that? What did she do?
I’m grabbing my desk phone before I even have time to think about it. I dial Mara’s number off by heart, one of the only phone numbers I bothered to memorize. It rings once, twice, and my breath hitches in my chest. No, don’t let anything have happened to her. I couldn’t face that possibility, couldn’t handle it if something had happened…
But then I hear her familiar voice on the other end of the line. “Hello?”
“Mara, it’s me. Are you on your way to dinner yet?”
I can hear honking in the background, the sound of traffic. “I’m in the car. Why, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” she points out, in the way that I normally love of hers, of seeing straight through my crap. In spite of my worry, I have to smile.
“No, it’s…” I shake my head. I’m being paranoid. Overprotective. I’m worrying about nothing, that’s all. “Something strange just happened, that’s all,” I say. “I’ll explain when we’re at dinner, all right?”
“Okay,” she says, still with that hesitation in her tone. “You sure you’re fine?”
“I’ll see you soon,” I say, mostly to avoid having to lie to her over that question again. “When you get to the restaurant, stay put, okay? I don’t want you off somewhere by yourself just now, that’s all.”
A long pause on the other end of the line, followed by a sigh. “Okay, but you’re explaining what the hell is going on the second you get here.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I promise.” I hang up and shut down my computer, reaching for my coat. There’s still more work I’d planned on finishing before I left tonight, but screw it. First priorities have to come first. And there’s a nagging sense of worry I can’t shake, a fear that there’s something wrong here that I’m not seeing right now. It’s a worry I know I won’t be able to shake until I’m with Mara, until I have her in my arms and I know she’s all right.
So, leaving work unfinished, something I’ve never done since the day I started Pitfire years ago, I shut off my office lights, lock the door carefully behind me, and head downstairs toward my car, to go and find my wife.
12
John
She’s standing outside the restaurant when I pull up. It’s a nicer place, a new one that just opened in town, which we’d both been eager to try. But right now, the restaurant and its well-reviewed fare is the last thing on my mind. I toss my keys to the valet without even looking, and beeline straight toward Mara, not stopping until I wrap my arms around her slender form and pull her against me.
She laughs softly, her face buried in my chest, the vibration of her laughter traveling up through my arms and chest, sending my head buzzing with the fresh proximity of her. I dip down to kiss the top of her head and try my best not to get distracted by how amazing she smells—rose shampoo mixed with her jasmine perfume and the scent beneath them both, a sweet smell that’s all my wife.