Forget You

by Nina Crespo

  No snacks in the cabinets. A six-pack of water in the fridge instead of a selection of drinks that included bottled soda and juices.

  She opened a drawer and what looked like a utility bill sat inside of it. Prickles of anxiety moved along her nape. Morbid curiosity pushed her into reading the name associated with the mailing address on the paper. Nicolas G. Kingman.

  But King had a house. Why would he need a condo in the city? Unless . . . She shoved the paper back in the drawer. This couldn’t be King’s love nest. Was it? The clash between wanting to believe the best in him but comprehending the truth brought a pang of nausea to her stomach and made her heart pound.

  Two hours later, after Carl had driven her home to get ready for work and to the office, Sophie sat at her desk. She stabbed delete on her computer keyboard. She’d inadvertently typed fuck palace in the draft proposal. Twice. Her morning in the penthouse apartment that had obviously belonged solely to King wouldn’t stop playing through her mind. She wasn’t a prude or ignorant to the fact that King had a past lineup of women, but did he really have to take her to where he kept only a supply of water, condoms, and disposable toothbrushes? Fuck palace. She’d typed it again. Damn it.

  “Hey, you.” Robin stood at the doorway. Her pink nurse’s scrubs matched the tie in her blond ponytail. She pushed the strap of her tan leather boho purse higher on her shoulder and walked in. The large brown paper bag she carried, with the top folded down, rustled. “What’s up with the massive frown?”

  “No reason in particular.” Sophie sat back in the chair, welcoming the interruption. “I’m just having a weird, crappy day.”

  “I know the feeling.” Robin dropped the paper bag on the desk. “I was called in late last night to the hospital to work in Emergency. We had an influx of kids with toy parts stuck in their ears and noses.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Sophie pointed to the bag. “What did you bring me?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t come bearing gifts. The cute guy working the reception desk downstairs asked me to bring this up to you. He said it was a personal delivery. I left my other key ring at work. It has the mailbox key. I’m too lazy to drive back and get it. I was hoping I could borrow yours. My new debit card should be here. My old one expired, so a few of my auto pays didn’t go through.”

  “No problem.” Sophie opened the right bottom drawer of her desk and retrieved the key from the key ring in her purse. She handed it to Robin.

  Robin glanced at the paper sack. “Expecting anything good?”

  “Not that I know of.” Sophie peeked inside the paper sack. A purple boutique bag from Meagan’s Loft held yesterday’s work clothes. “Nope, nothing special.” She set it aside. “Do you have time for coffee? I could use a minute or two of distraction.”

  “Sure.” Robin settled into the burgundy chair on the wall next to Sophie’s desk and dropped her purse on the floor. “Speaking of special, where’s Mr. Hotness?”

  More like Mr. Condom Central. “He’s in meetings all day.”

  “No wonder you look sad. You’re going through man-candy withdrawals.”

  “Not really.” Sophie snagged her half-empty cup from the desk and went to the kitchenette. Being near a source of water would come in handy when her pink bikini underwear burst into flames for telling a lie. Despite finding out she’d stayed at King’s fuck palace last night, she couldn’t hold back the memories of tangling with him in the sheets.

  Sophie took a mug from the cabinet and called over her shoulder. “Two sugars? Right?”

  “No, just one, and only a half cup. I need to take a nap when I get home or I’ll drop.”

  “I should lay off the caffeine, too, but I’m afraid of falling asleep.” Sophie filled both mugs from the coffeemaker on the counter and stirred a teaspoon of sugar into each. She went back out.

  “It must have been an interesting night.” Robin accepted the mug. “Were you with King the entire time?”

  Sophie dropped into the desk chair. “Yes.” And she’d spent it enjoying him satisfying her with his hands, his mouth, and his glorious cock.

  Robin paused in the midst of blowing steam from her coffee. “Are you coming down with something? You look flushed.”

  Warmth poured from the V of Sophie’s peach blouse. She resisted fanning away the heat and smoothed her camel skirt. “I don’t think so.”

  “You just need to get some rest. Who wouldn’t be worn-out after all the late nights you’ve been putting in? Luckily, your boss having a distractingly cute ass to stare at makes up for him acting like a slave driver.”

  King had more than just a cute ass. Sophie toyed with her mug on the desk. His was muscular and had been perfect for her to grab on to as she’d shouted for him to go deeper.

  “I can see where it would be hard to say no to him.” Robin sipped her coffee. “I swear. You’re a saint. Not everyone could pass the test you face every day. If I were in your shoes, I would have ended up fired for spending the day dreaming about doing him on his desk instead of doing work.” She chuckled. “Who am I kidding? I would have fucked him a long time ago. You’re smart for not sleeping with him.”

  Uncontrollable coughs took over as Sophie swallowed some of her drink. Her eyes watered.

  “Are you okay?” Robin went to get up.

  Sophie waved her off. “I’m fine.”

  “You look strange. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

  I slept with him. The unspoken confession burned in Sophie’s throat along with the hot coffee. So much for retaining her sainthood.

  The desk phone rang and the accountant’s number flashed on the view screen. “I have to take this.”

  “No problem. I can’t wait to get into bed.” Robin stood and placed the mug on the desk. “I’m off for the rest of the day. See you tonight.” She waved goodbye and left.

  On the phone, Sophie apologized for not sending the budget report on time. Earlier, her computer had frozen for a moment, but she could have sworn it had uploaded correctly.

  An outside call came in.

  She forced a smile in her voice and picked up. “Nic Kingman’s office.”

  “Hello.” The woman’s genuine cheeriness made Sophie want to snarl. “My name is Tina. I’m a friend of King’s. We’ve been playing phone tag. He said I could leave a message with you.”

  Tina? Who was she? Irritation built inside of Sophie and she fought to keep her tone professional. “Yes. What is it?”

  “First, let him know I can join him in Atlanta, but I won’t arrive until late Saturday morning. Also, I know he has to take off on Sunday, but I’m wondering if I can stay in the suite until Tuesday? I have meetings in the area. It would be so convenient if I could.”

  King had plans with another woman? Cold tingles rained over Sophie. The rest of what Tina said was lost in the white noise buzzing in her ears.

  “Hello?” Tina called out over the phone. “Are you still there?”

  “I’ll give him the message.” Sophie hung up.

  King had already moved on to his next conquest? Had he made those plans before or after they’d spent the night together? Not that he would confess one way or the other. He didn’t feel obligated to give a play-by-play of his personal life, and it wasn’t like she had a right to know. Hurt and reality fell on Sophie like a weight. She didn’t have a claim on King. He could be with anyone he chose for a month, a weekend . . . or just one night.

  seven

  KING STRODE OFF the elevator and walked to his office. The speaker at the chamber of commerce meeting had almost put him to sleep. Lunch wasn’t any better. The three city council members he’d met with had stretched his patience as they’d made sniping comments to one another. Somehow, he’d ended up as the referee, but no one was interested in listening to anyone else’s opinions. Then as if his day couldn’t get any more inconvenient, when he went to pay for lunch, he’d noticed that he’d left his business credit card in his desk. The accountant always had a fit when they used their personal card
s for business.

  He spotted Sophie through the glass, sitting at her desk while she talked on the phone. She wore a deep brown dress.

  Chocolate. A vision of last night’s dessert streaked over her breasts popped into his mind. He shoved the memory back in his head space.

  He walked in.

  She barely spared him a glance as he walked by.

  No smile or a friendly wave as usual? What did that mean? When he left her at the condo, she wasn’t pissed at him. Something else must have gotten her worked up.

  As he went into his office, King took off his gray pin-striped suit jacket. He tossed it onto the dark chair in front of his desk, loosened his purple necktie, and popped open the top buttons of his gray shirt. He should have brought his jeans upstairs with him so he could make a quick change. He could ditch the suits and remain comfortable until Monday.

  His cell rang and King slipped the phone from his pocket. Aiden. “Hey.”

  “Where are you?” Aiden’s tone was brusque.

  “My office.”

  “Good. I need a minute.”

  “Need a minute” was Aiden’s shorthand way of saying something had irritated the shit out of him. He’d been at the offices of the advisory firm that counseled Kingman Partners on financial matters all week. King plopped into his desk chair. Aiden loved to talk about the numbers, but King wasn’t interested in doing so before he hopped on the plane.

  “I’m heading to the airport.” King opened his middle desk drawer and rummaged around for his credit card. “We can catch up tonight.”

  “No. Now. You had our guy work up a financial report for us to solely purchase the property you’re going to see in Georgia.”

  He’d told the advisor he’d met with not to mention anything until he’d had a chance to talk to Aiden. Shit. “I’m just checking out the numbers.”

  “You never just do anything. We’re not buying that property. Kingman Partners’ focus is investing as a partner, not outright owning and managing hotels.”

  “But we also decided that at some point we would expand into that area of the business. It’s not like we don’t have experience doing it.”

  “Not the point. We agreed to gradually break into that part of the business in a year or two, after we properly planned for it.”

  “Plans can change.”

  “I’m getting a low battery signal on my cell. Wait for me. I’m almost at the office. We’re not done talking about this.” Aiden hung up.

  Great. Another disagreement he didn’t want to be a part of. King squeezed his eyes shut against the dull throb starting behind them. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sophie.”

  She didn’t answer him, but he could hear her tapping away on her computer keyboard.

  King searched through the top right drawer, found his card, and slipped it into his wallet. Did he have pain reliever someplace? “Sophie.”

  “Yes.”

  The abruptness of her tone made him pause. “Do you have some aspirin?”

  Out front, a desk drawer opened and shut.

  A moment later, she walked into his office with a neutral expression, placed a bottle of aspirin on his desk, and left.

  Did her change in demeanor have something to do with last night? He went to call her back in and stopped. No. They’d talk things out as planned on Monday. The priority now was Aiden. King popped two pills. He went into the kitchen, drank a glass of water, then strode into Sophie’s office. “Is the Georgia report done?”

  Sophie paused in the midst of typing. Her expression remained cool and impersonal. “I’m working on it.”

  “Can you speed things up?”

  “Do you want it fast or do you want it right?”

  “I want it right, but I also need it done.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You told me I had until two thirty this afternoon. It’s one.”

  She was clearly upset about last night, but he wasn’t going there with her. “Print a copy of what you’ve completed and bring it to me. Before you do, call the flight crew and tell them to bump the departure time by a half hour. I’m running late.”

  He went back to his office and sat behind his desk. All he had to do was show Aiden the raw data on the Georgia property to get him off his back. The place had potential.

  A few minutes later, Sophie came into his office. She placed the report on his desk along with a manila folder.

  King pointed to the latter. “What’s that?”

  “My two weeks’ notice is inside.”

  “I’m not accepting that.”

  “It’s best.” Sophie squared her shoulders. “Things are already uncomfortable between us. I’d rather leave now before it gets worse.”

  “It won’t.” Damn it, with Aiden on his way, now wasn’t the time to have this conversation. “Having sex isn’t the problem. It’s the emotions that come with it. We just have to get past them and walk it back to how it used to be before last night.”

  Her mouth hung agape and anger flashed in her eyes. “Walk it back?”

  Heavy footfalls echoed. Aiden walked into King’s office. His tight expression belied the casualness of his white button-down, jeans, and tan boots. “We’re not buying a damn mountain lodge.”

  Sophie’s expression grew more stubborn while Aiden glared at King. They both crossed their arms over their chests.

  The two of them were on his ass? Hell no. King stood. He pointed to Aiden. “I’ll talk to you about it when I get back.” He pointed to Sophie. “And, in answer to your request, my answer is still no.” King stormed out of the office.

  Two hours later, he was in a window seat on the right side of the eight-seater jet as it sat on the runway at Richmond International Airport.

  The flight crew, upfront in the cockpit, waited for clearance from air traffic control for the craft to take off.

  King rested back in the buttery-soft, beige leather chair. The two whiskeys he’d consumed at the airport bar had succeeded, as he’d hoped, in mellowing him out. After a good night’s sleep, he’d meet with the couple in the morning about buying their Georgia mountain lodge. Then he’d call Aiden to talk about the Ivy Gate Hotel.

  They’d gone through the hassle of losing time and money a few months ago to resolve shoddy construction of an indoor pool at their New York investment property. A structural issue with the restaurant at the Ivy Gate possibly pointed to problems in the rest of the property’s newly renovated areas. Kingman Partners didn’t need the headache of dealing with a shady contractor again.

  Exhaustion made King’s eyelids heavy. He would have mentioned what he saw before he left, but getting Aiden to switch topics when he was in stubborn-jackass mode was impossible. Sure, they’d planned to stick with just investing in ventures for another year or two—versus adding hotels they strictly owned and managed to their portfolio—but when the perfect opportunity presented itself, you had to take advantage of it.

  Like you did last night by sleeping with Sophie?

  King jolted from a state of semisleep. Having sex with Sophie wasn’t some situation that he’d gone out of his way to capitalize on . . . but the temptation was always there. That night at the bar had unleashed thoughts he’d always kept on lockdown. Once he’d touched her last night, it had been hard not to follow through. Now he was paying for it. Sophie wanted to quit.

  “Mr. Kingman,” the female pilot spoke over the intercom. “We’re next in line. Prepare for takeoff.”

  King closed his eyes and adjusted his seat belt. He wouldn’t let her resign. She was upset. After a break from him and work over the weekend, she’d realize they could put this behind them and return to normal. She couldn’t leave. He needed her. A quick vision of the unthinkable future flashed into his mind—walking into his office . . . seeing her vacant desk. Disquiet over the image grew as the jet rolled forward and picked up speed.

  Suddenly, a boom reverberated through the aircraft and the high-pitched whine of its engines pierced the air.

 
Violent shudders vibrated through the jet and shook King in his seat.

  The jet veered off of the runway. The force of it pinned him back and threw him violently to the right.

  Pain exploded in his head. Time slowed. An image of one person filled his mind . . . Sophie.

  eight

  A SPRINKLER WILDLY sprayed across the pathway that cut through the manicured courtyard of Sophie’s apartment complex. Water spattered her legs and favorite taupe pumps. Anger had worn thin on the drive home, and reality sat like a boulder in her chest. She’d been lucky enough to have a job she enjoyed, but the dumbest, most impetuous thing she’d ever done had ruined everything.

  Inside her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and dropped the paper bag with her clothes in the tiled entryway. She plopped her purse on the glass-topped console, and the green ceramic bowl holding the mail slid off center. She flipped through envelopes from the utility provider, her credit card company, and the place that managed her car loan. Payments were due on all of them, and she’d just quit her job. The aqua walls that usually inspired peacefulness closed in. She tossed the bills aside and made her way to the beige couch in the living room.

  Robin strode in from the hallway on the right, tugging the hem of her white tank over the waistband of her red plaid boxers. “What are you doing home? It’s only three. But on second thought, who cares? I’m glad you’re home early for a change.”

  “Yeah. What a switch.”

  Robin had called her smart for not sleeping with King. Shame covered Sophie in prickles of heat. What would she think of her now?

  Robin sat beside her on the plump cushions. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Fine by me.” Robin yawned and stretched. “We have enough leftovers for dinner, and we can just watch TV. That new movie we were talking about last week is available on demand. You know, it’s the one where the girl runs into her ex-boyfriend, they fall back in love, but then he’s paralyzed in an accident? We’ll definitely need a bottle of wine and a full box of tissues to get through it. Everyone I know who’s watched it has gotten emotional.”