The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(83)
Oh . . . this hurts.
His eyes come to me and a trace of a frown crosses his face as he talks.
He continues but I feel the hot release and stand in a rush. “I’m sorry, I have to leave,” I whisper through pain.
“Is everything alright?” He frowns.
“I’m unwell.” I rush for the door. “I’m sorry, I’ll catch up in the notes.”
I make it down to my floor, grab my handbag, and practically run to the bathroom.
I don’t have time for this crap.
ELLIOT
I dial Kate’s office; it rings out. Where is she?
I exhale heavily and get back to my report, something is wrong. I dial her floor manager. “Hello Peter, can you put me through to Kathryn, please.”
“She’s gone home sick, sir.”
I frown. “Ahh, okay.” I hang on the line as I roll my pen underneath my fingers on my desk. “Did she mention what was wrong?”
“Stomach problems.”
“Thank you.” I hang up.
I dial her cell phone. “Hi El,” she answers softly.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, sorry to leave early.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just my period, I’ll be okay.”
“Do you have something that you can take?”
“I’ll be fine, Elliot, don’t worry,” she whispers, and it’s obvious she wants to get off the phone in a rush. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
I frown. Tomorrow . . . oh. “Are you at home yet?”
“Yeah, I caught a cab,” she whispers.
“Okay.”
“Goodbye.”
“Call me if you—”
She hangs up before I can finish my sentence.
Oh.
I sit back in my chair . . . Hmmm. I inhale and get back to work.
Two minutes later . . .
What if she takes one of those tablets again and falls down the stairs?
No, she said she wasn’t taking them anymore.
I remember how out of control she was last time, and I imagine her lifeless body at the bottom of the stairs. She wouldn’t be that stupid.
Would she?
I keep trying to work, but twenty minutes later I press my intercom. “Courtney.”
“Yes sir.”
“I’m leaving for the day.”
“But . . . you have meetings all afternoon, sir.”
“Reschedule them.”
“Is everything alright, sir?”
“Everything’s fine,” I snap. I stand and put my suit jacket on. “I just need to go.”
I march into Christopher’s office. “I need your car.”
He glances up from his computer. “What for?”
“I’ve got to check on something.”
“Like what?”
I stare at him as I try to think of something. “There’s an emergency with the ducks.”
Fuck . . . I’m a bad liar.
Christopher’s eyes widen. “What happened?”
I shrug. “Um, they attacked the postman.”
He gasps. “They what?”
“Attacked the postman and he fell off his motorbike. It’s a terrible mess.”
He tips his head back and bursts out laughing. Loud and deep. “Oh my fuck, wait until the boys hear this.”
He hits speed-dial on his desk phone.
“Hey.” I hear Jameson’s voice.
Great, a conference call, just what I need.
“What’s doing??” I hear Tristan’s voice.
I hold my hand out. “Give me the fucking keys.”
“It gets better.” Christopher laughs. “His ducks attacked the postman and he fell off his motorbike.”
Tristan roars with laughter and I punch Christopher’s chest. “Give me the keys, prick.”
“Oh hell.” I hear Jameson sigh. “Get him a fucking gun already.”
I hold my hand out. “Keys.”
“I need my car tonight, I have a date,” Christopher snaps.
“You have four cars.”
“No.”
“I’ll have Andrew pick you up after work.”
“Why don’t you get Andrew to come now?”
“Because he will take too long. Keys,” I demand as I get to the last of my patience.
“Fine.” He hands them over. “Fuck off, I hope the postman sues you.”
“I can see the headline now,” Tristan says. “Death by duck.”
They all roar with laughter and I storm from the office.
Fuckers.
Twenty minutes later I knock on Kate’s door.
No answer.
I knock harder.
No answer.
I call her cell phone, it rings out.
“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter. I call her again.
“Hello,” she says sleepily.
“Open the door.”
“What?”
“I’m at your front door, can you walk down the stairs?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“You are not fine, Kate. Open the fucking door.”
“Ugh.” She hangs up and moments later the door opens and she comes into view. “What are you doing here?”