I took it begrudgingly, gripping it tighter than I needed to.
“Have a lovely night, Mrs. Clayton.”
“It’s Car—” I sighed. “Whatever.”
Are You So Strong?
Day Ten.
The thing about having a public argument with your girlfriend on the grand staircase of your company’s biggest investor event?
Everyone sees it. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone suddenly becomes a damn relationship expert.
Still, walking into the office the next day didn’t bring me embarrassment—it brought me emptiness.
I missed her.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, but I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her face. That look in her eyes right before she walked away—that heartbreak. She made such a beautiful face when she cried, and I regret seeing it.
I’d replayed it a hundred times and still didn’t know how to fix it.
The office was unusually quiet as I stepped in. People were here, sure, but the energy was off. It was as if they were all watching me without actually watching me, probably wondering if Carmen had packed up and flown back to New York. If I’d slept in the penthouse alone.
I had. And that put me in a miserable ass mood.
Work blurred. Emails. Client briefs. Team check-ins. Nothing stuck. Nothing mattered.
Annoyingly, my mother decided that this was the perfect time to try calling me again. I was tempted to turn my phone off, but I kept it on in case Carmen answered my texts or needed me.
It seemed to be pointless because there was just radio silence.
At around ten, I picked up the phone and dialed the hotel.
“Thank you for calling St. Adrienne,” the receptionist answered. “This is Margaret speaking.”
“Hi, Margaret, this is Theodore Clayton. Penthouse suite. Security code 768.”
I heard the click of keys. A pause.
“Yes, Mr. Clayton. How can I assist you?”
“I booked an additional room last night for my wife. Can you confirm the room number?”
“Yes, sir. That would be Room 308.”
“Is it nice?”
“Very. Gorgeous view, high floor. Corner suite.”
“Good. Has Mrs. Clayton come down to breakfast yet?”
“No, sir.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “Can you please have breakfast sent up to her? And add flowers—peonies—dark chocolate-covered strawberries, and a bottle of champagne. The one I always send up.”
“Absolutely. Anything else?”
“An in-room massage. Offer her the full menu with the delivery. Whatever she wants, charge it to my card.”
