by Nina Crespo
“Having sex isn’t the problem. It’s the emotions that come with it.” King had a lot of nerve telling her that. Did he expect her to just forget? Sophie replayed the past twenty-four hours in her mind—the gala, discovering he’d taken her to his love nest, Tina calling to confirm their weekend plans, him acting as if what happened didn’t matter, feeling rejected and tossed aside, and handing in her resignation. A swell of hurt, frustration, and regret burst inside of Sophie, and tears spilled out of her eyes.
Robin sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”
Sophie swiped her cheeks. “I really screwed up.”
“Whatever happened can’t be that awful.” Robin scooted closer and took her hand. “I’m sure we can figure out a way to fix it. Is it about work?”
“Sort of.”
“I knew something was up when I saw you this morning. What happened?”
Saying it out loud would expose her mistake to the harsh light of reality. Sophie swallowed against tightness in her throat. “I slept with King.”
“Oh.” Robin’s mouth hung agape. “As in, you were tired and just fell asleep on the same couch, or the two of you got busy?” Shock shadowed Robin’s expression as she studied Sophie’s face. “Wow. Definitely . . . wow.”
“Don’t you mean dumb, or better yet, crazy?”
“Yes. I mean no. Not dumb or crazy.” Robin offered a helpless shrug. “It’s just really unexpected to hear that you guys had sex. I didn’t even know you two had moved into the hookup zone.”
“We hadn’t . . . until last night.” Sophie sniffed to clear her nose. “He and his latest conquest were supposed to go to this important event, but they got into an argument. He asked me to go in her place.”
“And?”
Confess the dirty details of what exactly occurred at the restaurant? She couldn’t. “Long story short, I slept with him and now things are a mess.”
“But it’s not the end of the world. Right?” Robin squeezed her hand. “You’re not the only one responsible for what happened. He is too. What did he say when you talked about it?”
“We didn’t. He had meetings this morning and then he flew to Georgia.”
“Okay, that’s not ideal, but it’s not a bad thing. You can take the weekend to think about what you want. I’m sure the two of you will work it out. You’ve always said he’s respected you and treated you fairly.”
“King respecting me?” A bitter laugh escaped Sophie. “My mistake. Before he left me in bed this morning, he said that I was important to him and he didn’t want to lose our connection. I believed him. Right up until another woman contacted me to confirm their weekend plans, and King suddenly became a dictator instead of a boss.”
Robin’s mouth fell open. “He didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Bastard.”
“That’s what his latest called him last night before she slapped him. Guess I should have paid more attention. If I had, I’d still have a job.”
Robin’s eyes widened. “You quit?”
“Yes, but he refused to accept my resignation. King actually suggested we keep our emotions out of it and roll things back to the way they used to be. It’s like he wants to erase what happened. We can’t—well, maybe he can, but that doesn’t work for me. I don’t see how we can still work together.” Anxiety over not having a job warred with Sophie’s resolve. “Now what am I supposed to do?”
“Move on.”
“To what?” Weariness caused Sophie to slump back against the cushions.
“You’ll find something, but now isn’t the time to think about it.” Robin stood. “We’re going out. A new Mexican restaurant opened a few blocks from here. They make killer margaritas.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
Robin pulled Sophie to her feet. “We’re going, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Twenty-five minutes later, they sat in a dark wood corner booth.
Colorful, nostalgic murals of Mexico covered the walls. An eclectic mix of mariachi, merengue, and reggaeton tunes played from the sound system. Too early for happy hour, most of the tables remained empty.
A young couple shared a two-top in the middle of the room. The man and woman leaned in as they talked. The guy kissed the woman’s hand and she smiled.
Hollowness opened in Sophie’s chest. Last night in the office, she should have told King she couldn’t go with him, instead of insisting he ask her properly to the gala. She shouldn’t have let herself get caught up in the fantasy of being with him.
Robin slid a chilled margarita closer to Sophie. “Drink up.”
“Where’s yours? I’m not getting drunk alone.”
“Consider it a head start. I’m your designated driver. I’ll catch up at home.”
Sophie grabbed her margarita and took a deep swig, then another. The burning sting of alcohol slowly mellowed to warmth. She snagged a homemade tortilla chip from a basket and scooped dip from an orange ceramic bowl. Buttery chunks of avocado, along with garlic and lime, awakened her taste buds but not her appetite. “I guess I’ll call the temp agency in the morning.”
“You’re supposed to be drinking, not worrying.”
“How can I not worry with a bunch of bills waiting for me?”
“Please.” Robin waved away the objection. “You bank more than you spend. It won’t break your savings if you dip into it for a few weeks.”
“That money is for emergencies.”
“And this is a five-alarm, men-royally-suck, you-quit-your-job-for-a-good-reason emergency.” Empathy shone in Robin’s eyes. “Fling or not, you can’t deny you loved working for King. Leaving your position is like ending an intense romantic relationship. This article I read said there are three important don’ts in the land of Splitsville: don’t indulge in guilt, don’t be self-destructive, and don’t sit around wasting your life away.”
Sophie downed her margarita. “I’ve got you to keep me from the first two. Won’t taking a temporary job satisfy the last?”
“There are way better options. Besides, I thought you hated temp work. Didn’t you mention the other day that you’re behind on making bracelets? After you leave Kingman Partners, you can catch up. I’m sure if you let your past customers know you’re available, you’ll receive additional orders.” Robin patted Sophie’s hand. “Trust me. Take the time. You’ll hate yourself even more if you rush into some awful rebound work gig.”
Was it possible for her to feel any worse? But Robin was right. She would miss the sense of accomplishment after a long day of working with King. Sadness swelled inside of Sophie. She was doomed to finding another job where all she’d want to do was escape—but making more bracelets could be a solution. She always found solace when she created designs. “Funny you should mention jewelry. King knows the owner of Meagan’s Loft. She gave me a dress to wear last night. When she saw my bracelet, she said her customers would buy something like it, and she asked where she could place an order.”
Robin paused in midswirl of a tortilla chip through the guacamole. “Okay. We’ll talk about you wearing a Meagan Langston design later, but are you freaking kidding me? She’s interested in selling your jewelry? You said yes, right?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Because Meagan’s Loft is frickin’ amazing. Imagine the exposure.”
“Imagine the expense of starting something like that. There’s no guarantee the bracelets would sell.”
“What if it’s a dream come true for you?”
“I can’t. Financially, it’s too much of a risk.” Sophie traced through the condensation on her glass. Her mother had always stressed the importance of having a steady job with solid benefits: something making jewelry on her own to dismiss heartbreak couldn’t provide. It was silly of her to have mentioned the offer. Her work cell buzzed in her purse on the seat. She dug it out.
“Is it King?” Robin made a face as if the iced tea she sipped had suddenly turned sour. “If it is, you don’t have to answer.”
/>
“It’s not King. It’s Aiden. That’s strange.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s him or King. Ignore it. You’re off the clock.”
Sophie dropped the phone into her bag and picked up the trifold menu. Had King told Aiden she’d handed in her notice? What if King had shared why she’d chosen to resign? Dread diminished her appetite.
Robin studied the food selections. “The chicken enchilada special looks good.”
A bell ringtone blared from Sophie’s personal cell phone. She took it out. “It’s Aiden again.”
Robin shook her head. “Don’t answer it. Hurry up and decide on your entrée. The server is coming to our table.”
They placed their orders.
Giving in to Robin’s insistence, Sophie added on another drink. Too bad consuming more margaritas didn’t have the power to permanently delete the biggest mistake of her life.
As they waited, Robin entertained Sophie with stories about some of the weirdest things that had happened during her recent shift in the emergency room. “You think the guy with a fishhook stuck in his butt is strange? Listen to this. We had a group of twelve- to fourteen-year-old girls who were on their way home from a cheerleading competition. They’re crying hysterically because they’ve been pooping red all morning. The coaches were also freaked out and imagining the worse. Finally, we got everyone calmed down and had them tell us what they’d consumed for the past twelve hours.”
The food arrived and Robin paused to take a bite of her enchiladas. She moaned in ecstasy.
Sophie picked at hers. Aiden had never called her personal phone before. What could he want? Had King asked him to talk to her?
Robin wiped her fingers on a paper napkin. “Where was I?”
“You said you asked what everyone had been eating on the trip.”
“Right. So the coaches tell us they had bagels for breakfast, and turkey rollups and seaweed chips for lunch.”
“All we ate on school road trips was burgers and fries.”
“Hold on. It gets better. We questioned the girls about taking illicit substances. One of them caved in and her confession explained everything.”
“What was it?”
“Caliente Flame.” Robin laughed. “It’s a new chip flavor, and it’s loaded with red dye. The girls had broken the no-junk-food rule and snuck jumbo-size bags of them into their suitcases. They’d binged on them in secret the entire weekend.”
Sophie’s personal phone rang. She couldn’t help but squirm in her seat. “Aiden could be trying to reach King.”
“And maybe King’s not answering because he’s getting busy with his new hookup.”
King and Tina. The reminder churned the enchiladas and tequila in Sophie’s stomach. Cruelty wasn’t Robin’s aim. She just wanted her to face facts. “You’re right. Whatever Aiden needs isn’t my problem.”
“Finally, you’re seeing the light.” Robin held up her iced tea. “Here’s to selling your jewelry in Meagan’s Loft.”
“I didn’t say that.”
A chime rang out.
Whoever had just called had left a voice mail. Concern mounted in Sophie. “I can’t take this. I have to know who it is.” She retrieved her cell. “It’s from Aiden. He wouldn’t leave a message unless it was important.” She tapped play.
“Sophie. I’ve been trying to reach you. There’s no easy way to say this. King was on the company jet. There was an accident . . .”
nine
ROBIN BROUGHT HER red Jeep Compass to a screeching halt in front of the hospital.
Sophie jumped out of the front passenger side and rushed to the entrance. In his voice message, Aiden had asked her to meet him at the hospital. She’d tried calling him back, but he hadn’t picked up. In his message, he’d said he was already on his way to King. She should have answered her phone the first time. Guilt and panic swelled in Sophie’s chest. Was King okay?
She hurried down a wide corridor. Years after losing her mom, the clean, sterile smell of disinfectant still reminded her of sickness and mortality. She scooted around a pale, middle-aged woman with a purple knit cap in a wheelchair. More images from the past arose. Her throat tightened.
Upstairs in the fifth-floor waiting room, she spotted Aiden speaking to two doctors in lab coats down the hall. He raked back his dark hair with both hands and his expression turned grim.
Not a good sign. Her knees weakened. She made her way to an empty row of brown vinyl seats and sank into one.
Moments later, Aiden walked toward her.
Concern drove Sophie to her feet. “Where’s King? Is he all right? What did the doctors say?”
“They just completed a CT scan.”
She followed his lead and sat next to him. “And?”
“He was unconscious when they brought him in, but he woke up an hour ago. His right side is banged up and bruised. Mainly, they’re concerned about the head injury. They’re keeping him overnight.” Aiden scrubbed his hand down his face. “I still can’t believe it. He and the crew were damn lucky.”
“What caused the crash?”
“The landing gear malfunctioned during takeoff. Fortunately, the flight crew’s skill saved them from total disaster.” His cell buzzed. He lifted the edge of his navy button-down and removed the phone from the pocket of his jeans. “It’s the pilot’s husband. I told him to contact me when she was discharged. Would you check on King? His room is second from the end on the right.” Aiden stood and took the call.
Anxiety built with each step Sophie took. She froze at the door of the private hospital room.
Inside, King lay in bed wearing a light blue hospital gown. His eyes were closed. A small bandage was over his temple. Another, larger one was near the back of his head. He’d never looked so weak.
His eyes fluttered open. Moaning, he struggled with his right arm, which was immobilized by a sling, and tried to sit up.
“No. King, wait.” She rushed to his bed and laid her hand on his good shoulder. “You shouldn’t move.”
“Where am I?”
“Your hospital room.” It took all of her will not to smooth the hair from his forehead.
He winced as he sank back. “They’re keeping me?”
“Just for observation. You’re going to be okay.” At least she assumed he was. “I’ll get Aiden.”
“I’m here.” Aiden came in and hastened to the other side of the bed.
The seriousness shadowing Aiden’s face made him look older, but he was younger than King by almost two years. He was also leaner and had dark brown hair instead of black, but side by side, the family resemblance was evident.
King squinted as if he had trouble focusing. “Tell them to give me some painkillers and discharge me. I can’t stay. I have to fly to New York this weekend to straighten out that mess at the Autumn Star.”
Sophie met Aiden’s gaze. From his worried expression, she knew they were thinking the same thing. King had already flown to New York and helped handle the pool-renovation problem at that hotel.
“I also told Jenna I’d escort her to her sister’s wedding.” King closed his eyes. “The way I feel right now, I can tough it out for the meeting, but hanging with her, not so much.”
Aiden smiled, but concern flashed in his hazel eyes. “Your job is to follow the doctor’s orders and get better. Sophie and I will take care of everything else.” He nodded at her, as if she should agree.
“Yes.” She squeezed King’s hand. “You just rest and don’t worry about any of it.”
“Thanks.” King stroked his thumb over her knuckles, an intimate gesture he’d never done in the past. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s all right.” She tried to pull away.
His grip tightened, and he opened his eyes. The intensity of his eyes, a captivating silvery gray more than blue, held her in place. “I can’t lose you. Ever.”
Her heart stuttered.
Aiden looked between her and King. “It’s all good. She is
n’t going anywhere. Are you?”
The two men stared at her, both oblivious in their own way about what happened since last night.
She forced a smile. “I’m here.”
“See? Nothing to worry about.” Aiden patted King’s shoulder. “Get some rest.” He looked at her and tipped his head toward the door.
She followed Aiden down the hall and to the waiting room. “He’s really confused.”
“Yeah. He is. The doctors mentioned he might not recall the accident or the days leading up to it.”
“But the things he was talking about happened weeks ago.”
“From what they told me, head injuries are tricky. We’ll know more as he recovers.” Aiden’s expression turned grim. “You can’t discuss his prognosis with anyone. Do you understand?”
His curt tone made her rear back. “Of course I wouldn’t.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound harsh.” He released a breath. “Unfortunately, there are people who’d like to exploit this situation as a weakness. Don’t get me wrong. King’s health is the priority, but we have a lot at stake, especially with us looking to close a deal on the Ivy Gate Hotel in a month. I also just found out we’re dealing with a data breach. I’m trusting you to help me protect him and KP International.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“First, we have to iron out his weekend. He was meeting with a couple in Georgia to discuss buying their property. I got the impression he wasn’t spending the weekend alone. Do you know who she is?”
Sophie shoved her own hurt aside. “Her name is Tina. She’s arriving at his hotel tomorrow afternoon.”
“Do you have her number?”
“She called the office. I can track it down. Would you like me to call her?”
“No. I’ll do it. Until further notice, route his calls and his correspondence directly to me. Anything else I should know about?”
Now wasn’t the time to mention her rift with King. Her resignation could wait. “No.”
Aiden’s cell rang. He answered. “Yes. Mom, he’s all right. No, don’t fly out here. Mom . . . Mom, hold on.” He muted the line. “She’s not going to calm down until she hears King’s voice.”
