“Do you think Elliott would consider sending me back here to oversee the project?” She hoped. That would be a big deal. It would be a huge show of trust. Plus, she was the one to be on the project from the beginning. It was only fitting.
“No,” Hannah said, taking in Lena's disappointment. “No I think he has... other plans for you. In the company,” she added. “I might have had to remind him that two years as his errand boy was a bit too lowly a position for someone with a MBA. He can overlook little things like that.”
“I like my job,” she said, not wanting to sound ungrateful. She knew Hannah was really the one who hired her, not EM. But, oh god, a promotion. Finally.
“Of course. But you'll like this new one better. Besides,” she said, skirting around actually telling her what the position would be. “I think that maybe we should send James here to handle this.”
“James?” Lena asked, disbelieving. James. The younger brother of EM. Full of charisma and charm. And not one ounce of the work ethic his brother had.
“Yeah,” Hannah said, her eyes twinkling. “Can you imagine James and Emily going head-to-head?” she laughed. “It would make for great television.”
“You're evil,” Lena smirked. Emily was going to fight him tooth and nail on every issue. And James was just going to smile and say something clever and cocky and tick her off all the more.
“Aint I just?” Hannah asked, grinning. “Alright. I am going to get going. I'll probably be out of her tomorrow. So... I'll see you back in the city in a few days, okay?”
“Right,” Lena agreed. “Oh, hey... Hannah?”
“Yeah?” she asked, turning back.
“Thank you. For... smoothing things over...”
“You like it here,” she said, her head tilting.
“Yeah,” she said, then, quickly. “I mean... who wouldn't like it here?”
Hannah gave her a curious look, before turning and walking out the door. “See you back in the city,” she called, going down the stairs.
Lena took a deep breath, trying to wrap her head around what was going on. The absolute last person she had expected to see when she had walked into that garage was Hannah. She would have been less surprised to see EM himself and even that was the most absurd person she could have thought of.
A part of her felt almost guilty for having been a part of ruining the surprise for her, but a larger part was so overwhelmingly relieved that it canceled the other out. At least in a couple hours, she would be able to walk around the town without having to hang her head in shame. Her reputation would be restored.
Why that mattered when she was days from leaving was completely beyond her.
“So that was an unexpected visitor,” Eric said, standing in the doorway.
“You could have warned me,” Lena scolded, squinting her eyes at him. “I mean... just look at me.”
“I am,” Eric said, taking his time moving slowly up her body.
“Don't give me that look,” Lena said, less forceful than she had intended. He couldn't possibly want her again so quickly. Could he? “You know what I mean.”
“Hannah isn't judgmental like that,” he said, moving toward the coffee pot. “Besides, I like you like this. You wear those work clothes like a shield,” he told her, turning around with his coffee. “You're less... inhibited this way.”
“I need by inhibitions around my boss,” she countered.
“She didn't come here as your boss. She came here as a friend.”
Lena looked down at her hands. “Were you two close when you were younger?”
Eric laughed. “No. Not from lack of trying, mind you. She was always gorgeous. But Sam would have whooped by ass. Besides,” he said, moving up close to her and touching her hair. “I seem to have a thing for blondes.”
“Well,” Lena said, a little breathless. “I seem to have a thing for black hair and gray eyes... maybe I should make a try for her.”
Eric chuckled, then closed his eyes. “Just let me picture that for a minute,” he smirked and Lena swatted him in the chest. “Pretty hot,” he said, opening his eyes.
“You're impossible,” she objected.
Eric's hand went up to her face, touching her chin despite his dirty hands. “You're beautiful,” he said and her belly fluttered helplessly.
She would never be immune to that charm.
“So your reputation in town is safe,” he said, moving away suddenly as if she had shocked him. “Your job is safe...”
“Actually,” Lena broke in, feeling a sudden disconnect between them, making the two feet between them feel like two miles. “my job is better than safe. Hannah was hinting at a promotion.”
Eric nodded, his eyes cool, distant. “That's great. Long overdue I'm sure.”
“Yeah,” Lena said carefully, eyeing him as he looked from her to the door. Like he suddenly couldn't wait to be away from her. “It was great news.”
“Yup,” Eric agreed, looking back at her. “well, I am going to go get back to work,” he said and quickly made his way to the door.
Lena watched him go, an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Something like dread. Something completely at odds to how she wanted to feel around him. But there it was, gnawing and insistent. Something had changed between them.
Eric made his way down the stairs quickly, walking over to her car and staring down at it in dismay. It was done. He was going to have to go tell her. Sooner rather than later.
He grabbed a rag and scrubbed at his hands in frustration, walking out of the garage. His mood was sour and the last thing he needed was a drink, but he made his way down the street, opening the black door to the bar and stepping into the dimness.
“Heya Eric,” the bartender, a young kid barely old enough to serve alcohol called as he moved up to the bar.
“Where's Dane?” he asked, his tone curt.
“Oh,” the bartender said, reaching for a rocks glass. “no one knows. He just took off yesterday. Didn't say anything. Whiskey?”
“Yeah,” Eric said, sitting down on the stool. Dane took off. Maybe that was why Emily had been so angry.
The bartender poured the drink and pushed it forward, watching Eric throw it back before refilling it. “So what has you day drinking?” he asked, putting the whiskey bottle on the back bar. As if he wasn't going to give Eric anymore, even if he wanted it. “The city chick?”
“Nah,” he said, knowing he wasn't the least bit convincing. “she's leaving tomorrow.”
“Boy,” Maude's voice called from the doorway. He turned his head to look at her, the light behind her making her look even more intimidating than she usually did. “you best be getting your ass up out this bar right now. You know this don't solve nothing.”
Eric looked at the bartender, rolling his eyes, and pulled money out of his wallet to put on the bar. “Well, I guess I've had enough,” he smirked and slowly made his way toward the door. “Hiya Maude,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “you beautiful thing, you.”
“Oh don't be wasting that silver tongue on me,” she said, not moving out of his way. “Drinking aint gonna' fix what's ailing you,” she told him, folding her arms over her chest.
“No?” he asked, feeling the heat starting to spread across his belly. “then what will?” he asked, his tone sad and defeated.
Maude looked taken aback for a moment, moving to the side and letting him pass.
Eric left the bar, walking straight toward the inn and slipping inside the woods. He needed to clear his head. Get his mind straight. He wasn't that kind of guy. The kind who got worked up about something and went drinking about it. That wasn't his thing. That was his father's thing. And he wasn't his father.
He took off toward and incline, his feet fast and merciless beneath him. He needed to get away from her for a while. Create some distance. Get his head wrapped around the inevitable truth:
She was leaving tomorrow.
Twenty-One
<
br /> Lena had made dinner, setting the table and waiting for him to show up. But after an hour, then two, then three passed and he hadn't shown, Lena finally got up and moved from the table. She looked over at the spaghetti and garlic bread with a sort of detachment before walking away, leaving it there.
She hadn't been hungry anyway.
She moved toward the window, looking outside. The sky was dark, the town deserted. Where had he been all day? Was there a call out to one of the farms? But even then, he would have been back after dusk.
Maybe he was out chasing another woman.
The thought hit her painfully, a hollow fist in her gut. It wouldn't exactly be out of character for him. That was what he did. He chased women. He was the town rake.
Lena walked toward the bathroom, turning the shower on too hot and quickly getting under the spray, feeling the tears welling up unbidden and insistent. There was really nothing to cry about. She knew what he was like.
Maybe a part of her had figured he only slept with one woman at a time. Or maybe she thought it would be different with her. Lena snorted, shaking her head at her own stupidity. Her own vanity. She didn't change anything. He was who he was. He could screw whoever he liked.
But he wasn't going to sleep with her again. That was for certain.
Lena got out of the shower and slipped into her own silk pajama pants and tank top. It felt wrong to wear his clothes. Too intimate. Too full of private secrets. Ones she had no intention of reliving.
She crawled into bed, laying on her side away from the door. Awake.
He came in a few hours later, slamming the door unnecessarily. She heard him pause in the kitchen for a long time, probably looking over the cold dinner she had made for the both of them, before moving down the hall. She felt a tightness in her chest, something like anticipation or fear, until she heard him walk past her into the bathroom. The water went on and stayed on for a long time.
She heard his footsteps in the hall, stopping outside her door. She curled up into herself, willing strength, when the door pushed open. He walked over to the closet, grabbing a pair of pants and slipping into the soundlessly. He turned, moving toward the other side of the bed behind her and pausing. Like he was planning on slipping in. Waking her. Making love to her.
Lena took a deep breath, keeping her eyes closed tight. “No,” she said, her voice cold and final.
He stood there for a moment before walking out and closing the door behind him.
Lena sighed, laying there awake for hours, staring into the darkness. Not wanting to admit that all she really wanted was Eric to charge back into the room and make her forget about his distance earlier, the cold dinner on the counter. Make her forget that he had been out doing god-knew what with god-knew who.
But he didn't come back.
–
Morning came too quickly. Lena climbed out of bed, going to brush her teeth, taking her time because she still heard Eric shuffling around in the living room. When everything seemed quiet, she made her way out to get coffee.
And there Eric was, standing fully dressed in the kitchen, holding his own coffee and holding a mug out for her. Lena reached for it, careful not to touch him. She had spent all her sleepless night trying to rebuild some walls, some kind of shield to guard herself from him. She worried that if he touched her at all, they would all just fall to the floor.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, his tone warm, familiar. None of the coolness from the day before.
“Morning,” she mumbled back, wincing at the childish, clipped tone of her voice.
Eric's head turned to the side slightly, noticing the tone and curious, but saying nothing. “Thanks for dinner last night,” he said then smiled. “I ate it cold. I figured you'd want me to suffer a little bit.”
“A little?” she asked, turning away from him and walking to put the island between them.
He chuckled. “Why didn't you eat?”
“I lost my appetite,” she said simply, sipping her coffee.
Eric watched her for a moment over his coffee mug. She had slipped right back into her shields just as easily as she had slipped back into her own clothes. Since she didn't know about her car yet, he had to assume she was actually genuinely mad at him, not just trying to put distance between them because she was leaving.
“Mad at me, huh?” he asked, slightly amused at her surprised look. Like she hadn't expected to be called out on it.
“I never said...”
“Awe baby,” he said, smiling. “you don't have to. There are icicles on your tongue today.”
Lean raised a brow, wanting to laugh at his ridiculous accusation, but not wanting that kind of connection. “I'm not mad,” she said. She wasn't. She genuinely wasn't. She was disappointed. In herself, in him. Sad even. But not angry. Not at him anyway.
He put his mug down, smirking. “Somethings got your panties in a...”
“You have no,” she said sharply. “effect on my panties.”
Eric chuckled, a low sensual sound that matched the sudden heat in his eyes. He moved toward her. “Oh no? Want to prove that right now?” he asked, making a move to grab her.
Lena quickly spun out of the way. “No,” she said, trying to ignore the pulsing between her thighs that was screaming 'yes, yes, yes'. He had been out all night, she reminded herself, probably with another woman. She wasn't going to let herself get involved with that.
Eric stopped, turning away for a second and letting out a long breath. He turned back, his face all hard lines. “Your car is done,” he said, the words flat and professional.
Lena's face jerked to him, her mouth falling slightly open. “What?”
“Your car,” he said again, turning away from her. “I finished it last night.”
“Oh,” Lena said, a sudden surge of despondency building in her chest, making her throat tight. “Oh,” she said again, coughing. “Great,” she said with forced enthusiasm. “I thought I was going to be stuck here a few more days.”
Eric looked at her, his gray eyes looking darker. “Nope,” he said, shaking his head and plastering a smirk on his face. “I'm that good, baby,” he said, but it was devoid of his usual flirtatious tone.
“Right,” she said, smoothing a hand down her clothes.
Eric shook his head, watching as the genuine Lena slowly started to disappear behind the mask she wore. It had taken her so long for her to let herself take it off in the first place. Eric felt a pang at the idea of her hiding behind it again.
“So you're leaving,” he observed, watching her face as she mentally made lists of things she needed to be doing.
“What?” she asked, looking over as if she forgot he was there. “Oh, um. Yeah.”
“When?” he asked, and she was too absorbed in her own plans to notice the sweet sadness in his tone.
“As soon as I pack,” she said, looking off toward the bedroom.
Eric nodded, moving toward the front door. “Right,” he said in an almost mocking tone before he ran down the steps.
Lena went right into the bedroom, carefully folding her clothes into her suitcase. Everything just so. Neat, meticulous. She looked over at where she had her things haphazardly piled on the nightstand with a shake of her head.
Once she finished, she pulled her hair into a neat bun and grabbed her bags, making her way through the house and ignoring the tightening feeling in her stomach.
“Don't worry about me. I got all of this,” she called to Eric who watched her struggle down the stairs with her stuff.
“I know you do,” he agreed, nodding, leaning against the passenger side of her car.
Lena hauled her things into the trunk and slammed it before coming back to face Eric. “Alright. So what do I owe you?”
Eric rubbed his chin, looking away from her. “Fifteen-hundred.”
Lena's brows drew together. “That's just parts,” she said, shaking her head. “You need to include labor.�
�
“No baby,” he said, shaking his head. “I don't.”
“Eric...”
“Come on, let's go to the office and square it away,” he said, moving out of the garage quickly.
Lena followed behind him, her heels clicking loudly against the pavement. The inside office was old and dated looking. Dust covered the filing cabinets and the desk was cluttered with haphazard stacks of paper. There was a couch stretched out underneath the front window with a pile of car and tool magazines laid across the cushions.
“Hey,” Lena yelled, her tone accusing. Eric looked up, a brow raised. “that's mine,” she said, pointing to the rosemary plant on the window sill.
“Yeah you left it in the car,” he shrugged, leaning down on the desk and filling out some paperwork.
Lena felt a bit of guilt that she had forgotten about it. So much for her good track record at keeping it alive. “So you didn't think about returning it?”
Eric looked up from his bent down position, a strand of hair slipping over his eye. “I decided to save it from you,” he smiled. “The poor thing was half dead.”
“It was not,” Lena objected, though looking at it after Eric had taken care of it, she had to admit it looked sturdier, fuller.
“It was starved of sunlight,” he objected, looking back down at his paper. “Why rosemary?” he asked, stapling two pieces of paper together.
“I thought I would use it for cooking.”
“And you didn't,” he finished for her.
“I never had the time. Are you going to give it back to me?” she asked as he made no move to hand it to her.
“Nope,” he said, his face impassive.
“Seriously?”
“Yup,” he said and held out the papers to her. “Those are for you to keep. Do you want to pay with a card or a check?”
“Check is fine,” she said, reaching into her purse and rummaging for her checkbook. “Just make it out to you?”
“Mmhmm,” he said, sitting on the edge of the desk and watching her write.
What The Heart Finds Page 18
