Charlie’s pulling his clothes back on, but he looks entirely like he just rolled out of bed after fucking someone within an inch of her life. Accurate, but not the best look for work, and when I catch a glance at my reflection in the mirror in the corner of my bedroom, I’m not much better.
“I’ll hear them out,” I say, finally. “I’ll be there in a half hour. Charlie’s on his way too.”
“And howexactlydo you know that, young lady?”
“I’m hanging up now,” I say, and end the call, cutting off his laughter.
“What’s up?” Charlie says, handing me a robe he found hanging on the back of my bedroom door. I slip it on as he turns to find his shirt, now a crumpled lump of cotton lying across the other side of the room.
“Nakamura found out they let me go. It’s a mess. Stew wants me to come back to the office. I think they’re going to offer me my job back.”
“Oh,” he says simply, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head, like he used to look when his pitcher was struggling and he needed to figure out a solution to get him through the rest of his start.
“I’ll hear them out,” I say, with a shrug that sends one side of the robe slipping down my arm.
Charlie reaches out to right it, his fingers lingering against my neck for a moment and then another. “What do you need from me?”
“Go there and stall? I can’t show up looking like this.”
“You look great.”
“I look . . . ravished.”
He snorts and then nods in agreement. “Exactly.”
“I need to shower, at least.”
“Okay,” he says, and then leans down to press a soft kiss to my cheek and then to my lips. “I got you.”
“I know you do.”
One more kiss, this one a little more lingering and bit more handsy, and he’s out the door.
I forgot how good it feels to be wanted like this. To be needed.
But now I’ve got to focus.
Clothes.
My closet is full of options. Most of my clothes are for work, but when I catch a glimpse of a navy-blue pinstriped skirt, the choice is made for me. If I’m going in there, they’re going to be reminded of exactly what they’re up against the entire time.
A shower, cold to really make sure I’m fully awake, and a quick blow-dry to my hair, twisting it up into a bun and then, after staring at myself in the mirror for longer than I normally do, letting it down again.
A different look because they need to know they’re dealing with a different woman today than they were yesterday.
My heels that were left carelessly by the door when we crashed through it slide into place, nude patent leather, with the white and navy pinstriped skirt, a stark white camisole and the matching suit jacket and I’m good to go.
Walking down the stairs of my building, I glance at the doorto the apartment beneath mine, the apartment that no longer houses my ex and his family, and I wonder if the co-op board will let us make the house into one single unit. If not, maybe we move until we find something big enough for two.
But that’s a problem for another day.
There’s a car waiting for me when I step outside and I grin at Vladimir, who smiles back, wide and toothy. I haven’t seen him since that day at the airport.
“It’s only a couple of blocks,” I protest, while he holds the door open.
“Mr Avery insisted,” he says, after I slide into the backseat, before closing the car door behind me and jogging around to the driver’s side so we can get going.
Of course he did.
