The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(65)

I’m fine, fine, totally fine.

I had the best holiday ever . . . let’s leave it at that.

I’m faking it till I make it here, but whatever. It’s making me feel better.

At least I now know that my heart still beats.

I’m still in there somewhere, albeit a little damaged and broken, but I didn’t die with my parents after all, and there is happiness in my future, I just know there is.

I smile as I step into the office; it was fun while it lasted.

I’m hoping for more, but for the first time in a long time, I know I’ll be okay if there isn’t.

It is what it is.

Eleven a.m.

Knock, knock, sounds at my office door. “Kathryn,” the familiar voice says.

I glance up, it’s Elliot. A smile overtakes my face. “Hi.” I beam. I missed him last night.

“Do you have that report on search engine usage that I asked for?” he snaps.

I frown, taken aback by his greeting, or should I say, lack of it. “No, I can generate it now if you like.”

“Thank you. Make it fast please, I need it in an hour.”

He’s cold and detached—the Elliot Miles that I remember.

My eyes search his.

“For God’s sake don’t look at me like that, I’m not in the fucking mood,” he snaps before walking out.

I stare after him . . . Huh?

I sit in the cafeteria and the world is a blur.

How was I looking at him?

Was I all doe-in-the-headlights? Was my heart beating through my chest—could he see it?

Probably . . . God.

Back to reality with a thud.

“Did you see Elliot Miles this morning?” one of the girls at the table says.

“Fuck yes, with a suntan he’s even more lethal.”

The hackles on my back rise as I eavesdrop.

“He probably spent the break on a yacht in Ibiza with a supermodel or some shit. Who knows, he probably got married,” another girl replies.

“He wouldn’t marry a supermodel,” an older woman comments. “Elliot Miles wouldn’t settle for that.”

My eyes flick up. “What do you mean?”

“Elliot will marry an artist, or an author or something philanthropic.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s very deep. Haven’t you noticed where his interests lie?”

“No, where do his interests lie?”

“In the art world. He will marry someone super-unique. That’s why he guards his private life so fiercely, so that all these little flings he has with bimbos along the way won’t hurt his chances when he meets the one that he wants.”

My heart drops. “I guess.”

I sip my tea . . . am I one of the said bimbos now? His words from earlier come back to me and I feel sick.

For God’s sake don’t look at me like that, I’m not in the fucking mood.

“Kate, wake up,” Daniel says as he sits on the bed.

I try to pry my eyes open. I hardly slept a wink last night worrying about Elliot all night long.

He didn’t call me, I didn’t hear from him, and I have no fucking idea what’s going on between us, but it’s not okay how he spoke to me yesterday.

“Look at this,” Daniel snaps.

He holds a folded newspaper up in front of my face.

“What?” I frown.

“Fucking look at it.”

I screw up my face as I focus my eyes and read the headline.

Elliot Miles leaves gala night with Varuscka Vermont.

Huh?

I sit up and snatch the paper from him.

My eyes read the headline again and I look at the picture.

Elliot is in black tie, and he and a dark-haired beautiful woman are in the back of his Bentley . . . Andrew is driving.

“When was this photo taken?” I ask.

“Last night.”

My horrified eyes meet Daniel’s. “What the fuck?”





Chapter 15


I storm up the road like a monster, my inner rage at an all-time high.

How dare he?

How fucking dare he?

Okay, so he didn’t want anything more . . . man up and tell me, you fucking spineless dipshit.

Last time I checked, when you spend most of a week inside someone’s body, you at least owe them a simple conversation.

Ugh, I’m furious. I can feel my blood boiling under my skin.

I guess this is the mission accomplished, given that I dated Elliot to try and feel something.

And I feel something for sure: thermonuclear atomic rage.

I march into my building.

“Good morning, nice day.” The doorman smiles.

Is it?

I fake a smile and keep walking. I can’t even make myself lie and agree with him.

Stay out of my way world, I want blood.

At 1 p.m., my email pings.

Kate,

I would like to see you in my office immediately.

Elliot.

Ha, I bet you would . . . you stupid fuck.

I reply:

Elliot,

Sorry, I am too busy.

Please email me your request and I will attend to it as soon as possible.

Kate.

A reply bounces straight back.

Kate,

Whatever you’re doing can wait.