Page 57 of Rebound
Tom the assistant jumps up to talk to me, but I keep walking, desperately seeking the ladies’ room. I’m just about holding it together, fighting back my tears and my nausea, when a horribly familiar voice calls my name.
“Amber, Stop!” I close my eyes. Every muscle in my body tenses. I keep walking, hoping to get to the elevator before he reaches me. No such luck—I press the button, but the car is on the ground level. Rolling my shoulders back, I stand up tall and remind myself who I am. Amber James, stuck-up cunt. He might be the Ice Man, but I am the Ice Queen.
I whirl around, and Nathan James bears down on me. I fight the panic gripping my throat. He’s always angry when he sees me. He cloaks it with sarcasm and biting comments, but beneath that is pure fury—I hurt his beloved brother. I am the enemy.
I force myself to stay exactly where I am. I have given up enough ground today, and I will not let another man bully me. “Nathan,” I say coldly. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a meeting with Cynthia Chambers about a case we’re working on together. What areyoudoing here?”
“None of your goddamn business,” I snap. He looks taken aback. I am usually calm and frosty, but I can’t fake it that well today.
The elevator arrives, and I wait while a young woman gets out. “Take the stairs, Nathan,” I say after stepping inside.
“Fuck you, Amber.” He holds the door open and keeps his voice low—we are in public, after all—smiling as he speaks. “How does it feel to be replaced?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Elijah has met someone else. He’s been seeing her for a while now, and she’s good for him. Much better than you were. In fact, he’s the happiest he’s ever been. You have a real nice day now.” He says the last few words in a mocking Southern accent and looks unbearably pleased with himself as the elevator doors slide closed on him.
I stagger back against the wall, finally letting my proud expression fade. The adrenaline rush has left me weak and shaky, and as soon as I get to the lobby, I head straight for the ladies’ room. I splash my face and scrub my hands with scalding hot water for several minutes, trying to scour away every trace of Freddie Kemp’s filthy touch.
I knew he was a cheat, but I had no idea he was a predator, and I’m not sure what to do about it. Should I call the cops? Talk to Elijah? Go back upstairs and kick the shit out of him? I am not naive—if he behaved like that with me, he has undoubtedly done it before. Which is why I’m shocked I’ve never heard a whisper about sexual misconduct. How has he kept it a secret?
My reflection stares back at me, pale and drawn. Elijah will make me feel safe, if nothing else.
I take a few deep breaths and find my burner phone.
Any chance you can meet a little earlier?
I hit send and lean against the marble vanity while I wait for his response. He doesn’t keep me waiting long.
For you, anything. See you at five?
I reply with kisses, feeling relieved at the prospect of seeing him again, especially now. I need his hands to replace the lingering crawling sensation Freddie left behind. I need Elijah to hold me until the horror of it fades.
I need my husband.
ChapterTwenty-Five
ELIJAH
Isit back in my seat and punch the air. She wants to see me early, and her most recent message had more kisses than the last. So what if I’m acting like a goddamn teenager—I’m fucking thrilled at her response. I’m so happy that I push my chair back from my desk, lift up my feet, and whirl around in a circle. The only reason I resist the urge to shout “Yippee!” is because the walls to my office aren’t soundproofed. The CEO of Jamestech is expected to conduct himself with a modicum of dignity.
I can hear my secretary talking to someone on the other side of my door, so I’m glad I reined it in. Beverley’s playful tone tells me it’s someone she’s familiar with, but I grab my desk to stop my spinning and pick up a pen, hoping I look like a serious man doing serious work. I damn sure don’t feel like one.
When I reached out to Amber last night, I genuinely wasn’t sure which way she would leap. It was entirely possible that she would retreat further away from me. When she agreed to meet, I knew there was a chance—and a chance is all I need. Our follow-up messages so far today have done nothing to discourage me. Kisses—text message kisses. I don’t think Amber has sent me kisses in a message for over a decade, and now it’s twice in one day. Fuck. I can’t believe how good I feel right now. And I can’t believe I have to hide it from the world, at least until Amber and I have had the chance to talk properly.
We have a lot to discuss, but I feel confident we can make it work. For the first time in forever, I can see a future for us. One where we chat over dinner and go for walks and have amazing sex and support each other with love and kindness. A future where we are allies in life. It’s the path we were on when we got married, and we took it for granted. Never again.
I send a quick email to Luisa canceling the strategy meeting we had planned for later and vaguely wonder who Beverley is talking to. She laughs and says, “Oh my. He’s absolutely gorgeous.”
Seconds later, there’s a quick knock on my door and Nathan strides in.
“Were you showing her pics of Luke or Jason Momoa?” I ask, grinning at him.
“Well, I deleted all my shots of Jason when Mel started getting jealous,” he jokes as he walks toward me. Despite the banter, it’s clear he has something on his mind.
He sinks down into the guest chair opposite me and runs his hands through his dark hair—a sure sign of distress. I subtly glance at my watch and hope that whatever this is, it leaves me enough time to reach Amber by five. Turning up late because I was dealing with Nathan’s drama would not go over well. Those are the exact kinds of choices that helped us into this mess in the first place. It’s never easy though, being tugged in two opposite directions.
