by Leslie North
"And I'm back in L.A. in time for a work thing," he agreed. "Everyone wins."
He had meant to sound casual—calling an advertising launch party a "work thing" was something he would never dream of doing outside of Trinity's presence. But he could see immediately that it had been a mistake. The animation in her eyes, the light, went abruptly dark; her energized posture stiffened. Too late, he recalled what he had said to her on the night of their five year anniversary, after he had sent his secretary in his stead to explain his absence from dinner. The night—and his failed marriage, it had turned out—imploded as soon as he got back to the apartment, and uttered those dismissive, fatal words:
I had a work thing.
He wondered if she would throw the memory back in his face now. It was the least he deserved for being careless. He had been caught up in the moment—caught up in the feeling of being partners again, and working together toward a solution. Instead, Trinity offered a smile as matte as a magazine ad. She gathered all her documents back together and straightened them briskly. "Wonderful. William will be delighted to know we're on the same page. Thanks for meeting with me today, Samson. I'll be seeing you at our official first meeting with Eddie tomorrow. Same time, same room."
When she rose, Sam reached for her out of habit. He was a creature of order, not routine, but somehow in the five years they had been married he had managed to develop a compulsion. He liked to hold onto Trinity, just a moment more, before they broke to pursue their separate tasks.
His fingers encircled her wrist, and she didn't pull away immediately. Sam felt encouraged. He stood and took a step nearer to her, letting his fingers slide from the delicate bones of her wrist to her open palm. They were almost holding hands.
"Trinity." He kept his voice low, almost afraid they would be overheard. "It's good to see you again. I've…missed you." He took another chance. He squeezed her hand. He thought he felt the faintest reciprocating pressure, and forged on quickly. "When are you off tonight? We should grab a drink and catch up."
Trinity yanked her hand from his suddenly as if he'd scalded her. "I have a date tonight." The words tumbled from her lips; Sam couldn't decide if they were improvised or rehearsed. If it was a lie, he couldn't read it in her face. He had always been able to in the past. "And I think…the onboarding process is what's most important right now. Getting Eddie situated in his role is my number one priority. I consider anything else a distraction that neither of us can afford."
Trinity turned and walked briskly from the room. As she passed back by the conference room window, Sam could clearly see the stormy look on her face: her eyebrows were furrowed in anger, and her eyes sparked like there was lightning behind them just waiting to be unbottled.
"Shit," Sam swore below his breath. What the hell had possessed him? He took a moment to compose himself. He straightened his cuffs. He tried to smooth the persistent wrinkle from his sleeve and came away with half a dozen more.
"Shit," he said again.
Grab your copy of The Billionaire’s Ex-Wife (The Jameson Brothers Series Book One) from www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
