The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(75)

She stares at me, and I know that deep down, she knows I’m right. Her eyes well with tears. “What happened to our five-year plan?” she whispers.

“It was good in theory, but come on. We both knew when we made the break that there was a big chance we wouldn’t make it through to the other side.”

“I’ll move back,” she pleads.

My eyes hold hers, and I know there’s no easy way to say this. “It’s too late. I have feelings for Emily. It’s her that I want now.”

Her face screws up in anger. “Emily, is it?” she sneers.

I clench my jaw as I watch her.

“Who is she? What does she do?”

“She’s just a normal girl from the suburbs.”

She rolls her eyes in disgust. “You . . . with a normal girl? Ha, what a joke. I suppose she cooks and cleans and fusses over you and sucks your dick on command, does she?”

I inhale to hold my anger deeply. “She’s good for me.”

“I’m good for you,” she fires back.

“As a work colleague or employee, yes—as a mate . . . not so much.”

Her eyes fill with tears anew.

“I’m not good for you.” I shrug. “I’m so busy that I can’t be there for you either. You deserve to be doted on, but I can’t do that from New York, Claud; you know I can’t. There is no way around this situation. Our lives are traveling on different paths. Two CEOs can’t hold their careers and nurture a relationship from different sides of the world. It’s an impossible task.” I pause as I try to articulate what I’m saying. “Until I met her . . . I didn’t realize what we were both missing out on. Both me and you.”





Her eyes hold mine.


“I wish it were you telling me you’d met someone, so then I wouldn’t be saying this. I love you, and you’re the last person I want to hurt. I would much rather you hurt me.”

She walks over and drops to the couch as she processes the information.

I stay silent as I watch her.

“So what now?” she asks.

“I’m going home to move her into my apartment.”

Her face falls. “What?”

“And I will be announcing our relationship.”

She drops her head in sadness. “What’s the rush?”

“You know me—I’m all or nothing.”

She screws up her face in tears. “Are you going to marry her?”





I stay silent.


“You asked me to marry you four weeks after we met. Are you . . .” Her voice trails off in hurt.

I clench my jaw to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret. She drops her head, and I watch as she cries for a moment. I have to leave before she gets angry. “I’m going.”

Her haunted eyes come to mine. “I love you,” she whispers.

I smile sadly and take her in my arms. “I love you too.” We hold each other for an extended time. “Be happy,” I whisper into her hair.

“How could I possibly be happy without you, Jameson?” she whispers. “Don’t go.”

“I have to.”

I pull out of her arms, and without another word I turn and walk out of Claudia’s terrace house. I get into the back of my waiting car and stare solemnly out the window as it pulls away.

“Goodbye, Claudia,” I whisper as the scenery zooms by. “Fly high, baby.” I get a lump in my throat for all the good times we shared. “You deserve the best.”

I sprint the last block. It’s four in the morning, and I’m running in New York.

I love this city at night; it has a peace that daylight doesn’t deliver.

Last night at the airport I had my fill of scotch and slept the entire flight home, and now I’m a ball of energy. My flight landed at two o’clock, too late to go to Emily’s . . . not that it’s stopped me from running here.

I pant as I approach her building, and I stare up at it and go to the intercom. My finger hovers over her button. My chest rises and falls as I hesitate.

It’s four o’clock, and she has to work tomorrow.

Don’t be selfish.

Fuck, I can’t help it with her—I am selfish. I want her around the clock.

I walk out onto the street and stand at the gutter with my hands on my hips as I struggle for breath. Spits of rain begin to splatter, and I look up at the sky.

I love running in the rain. It starts to really come down, and I turn back and look up at Emily’s building. I count the floors until I get to her windows.

I imagine her sleeping in her bed with her long dark hair splayed across her pillow, her beautiful curvy body curled up like she does, and eyes that could talk me into anything.

Tomorrow . . . well, today now.

I smile up at her window as the rain really comes down, and I turn and begin the long run home.

Tomorrow I start fresh with Emily Foster.

Emily

I walk through the security check with a spring in my step. Jameson got home last night. I get to see him today. I’m so excited that I even got up early and curled my hair, and I’m wearing my gray skirt in full swing.

A week has never felt so long. I take the elevator up to my floor and sit at my desk.