Jeanine. Out of my peripheral, I see she does a piss-poor job of hiding her annoyance. If she’s unhappy now, her talons will really unleash when I announce that Nora will be assigned to one of our biggest and most important clients who called yesterday to let me know their CEO is retiring and they need to replace her. In the past, I would have assigned a case like this to Jeanine. I will be giving it to Nora instead.
And I’ll be personally overseeing it.
“Next question,” I say when Nora finally looks away.
The insecurities and anxieties continue to be lobbed for the next hour and a half. I continue to watch Nora, but she never makes eye contact with me again. My annoyance spikes. It’s getting harder and harder to tuck it down.
Your evasion is going to fucking stop, princess.
“Once again,” I start, anxious to end this so I can get a minute alone with Nora. “A warm welcome to our new SER family. I have no doubt our Wynn family will be nothing but gracious in welcoming you all. And to that end, you’re all invited for a celebration this evening. We’ll have cocktails and heavy hors d’oeuvres starting at six-thirty. Lydia will have the information on your way out. I expect to see you all there.”
Everyone rises and starts chattering, but the one person my attention is riveted on is Nora. I watch her effortlessly chat up Brad Harding, the SER COO. Their heads are close together and with the heated way his eyes graze over her body whenever she looks away, he is either intimately familiar with her or he wants to be.
Irrational hate burns through me, and my vision instantly fogs with violent, possessive jealousy.
She.
Belongs.
To.
Me.
I’ve done nothing for the past two weeks other than soul-searching, allowing myself to remember and, more importantly, deal with the deep hurt I’ve held inside for years at her bullshit breakup phone call. After seeing her again, after I’ve acknowledged that all I want is her, all I’ve ever wanted is her, and all I will ever want is her, I now want all of that resentment, hurt, and anger gone.
I’m tired of being buried, suffocating under its oppressive weight.
I want to forgive her. I want it all washed away by the pure love and raw ache I’ve always held for this woman. Eleven years, wasted. I’ve fought hard to forget her, all the while secretly pining away for her instead. I may not know the real reasons she left me, and I know that’s an inevitable conversation we’ll need to have. We both have confessions. We both need to clear the air so we can look to the future unencumbered, but I find I’m not even sure I care what the answers are anymore because I’m not letting her go.
Ever.
And I’m sure as hell not letting some other man move in on my turf right the fuck in front of me.
Oh, fuck no.
“Nora, can I speak to you for a minute?” I bark when I see her moving toward the door with his mitt at the small of her back. That possessive gesture is implied universal guy code for letting every other cock in the vicinity know “this woman’s with me, stay in your steel cage, fuckers,” and I swear by all that I own if Mr. Operations doesn’t remove that hand in the next two seconds I’ll break it the fuck off.
No one has the right to touch her but me.
Not now. Not ever again.
They both turn their heads. Harding must feel the sharp, cutting sting of the daggers I’m visually hurling; he drops his hand not a moment too soon.
Nora turns back to him, saying something I can’t hear before he gives me a tight smile, then leaves with everyone else. Once the last person has shut the door behind them, she shifts to me, irritation written all over her beautiful face. She’s not even trying to hide it.
Well, join the fucking club, sweetheart. Water’s a sweltering, unforgivable hundred twenty degrees right about now. I push the boil below the surface, keeping my outer pretense calm.
“You know, if you keep calling me after class, people will
And I’ll be personally overseeing it.
“Next question,” I say when Nora finally looks away.
The insecurities and anxieties continue to be lobbed for the next hour and a half. I continue to watch Nora, but she never makes eye contact with me again. My annoyance spikes. It’s getting harder and harder to tuck it down.
Your evasion is going to fucking stop, princess.
“Once again,” I start, anxious to end this so I can get a minute alone with Nora. “A warm welcome to our new SER family. I have no doubt our Wynn family will be nothing but gracious in welcoming you all. And to that end, you’re all invited for a celebration this evening. We’ll have cocktails and heavy hors d’oeuvres starting at six-thirty. Lydia will have the information on your way out. I expect to see you all there.”
Everyone rises and starts chattering, but the one person my attention is riveted on is Nora. I watch her effortlessly chat up Brad Harding, the SER COO. Their heads are close together and with the heated way his eyes graze over her body whenever she looks away, he is either intimately familiar with her or he wants to be.
Irrational hate burns through me, and my vision instantly fogs with violent, possessive jealousy.
She.
Belongs.
To.
Me.
I’ve done nothing for the past two weeks other than soul-searching, allowing myself to remember and, more importantly, deal with the deep hurt I’ve held inside for years at her bullshit breakup phone call. After seeing her again, after I’ve acknowledged that all I want is her, all I’ve ever wanted is her, and all I will ever want is her, I now want all of that resentment, hurt, and anger gone.
I’m tired of being buried, suffocating under its oppressive weight.
I want to forgive her. I want it all washed away by the pure love and raw ache I’ve always held for this woman. Eleven years, wasted. I’ve fought hard to forget her, all the while secretly pining away for her instead. I may not know the real reasons she left me, and I know that’s an inevitable conversation we’ll need to have. We both have confessions. We both need to clear the air so we can look to the future unencumbered, but I find I’m not even sure I care what the answers are anymore because I’m not letting her go.
Ever.
And I’m sure as hell not letting some other man move in on my turf right the fuck in front of me.
Oh, fuck no.
“Nora, can I speak to you for a minute?” I bark when I see her moving toward the door with his mitt at the small of her back. That possessive gesture is implied universal guy code for letting every other cock in the vicinity know “this woman’s with me, stay in your steel cage, fuckers,” and I swear by all that I own if Mr. Operations doesn’t remove that hand in the next two seconds I’ll break it the fuck off.
No one has the right to touch her but me.
Not now. Not ever again.
They both turn their heads. Harding must feel the sharp, cutting sting of the daggers I’m visually hurling; he drops his hand not a moment too soon.
Nora turns back to him, saying something I can’t hear before he gives me a tight smile, then leaves with everyone else. Once the last person has shut the door behind them, she shifts to me, irritation written all over her beautiful face. She’s not even trying to hide it.
Well, join the fucking club, sweetheart. Water’s a sweltering, unforgivable hundred twenty degrees right about now. I push the boil below the surface, keeping my outer pretense calm.
“You know, if you keep calling me after class, people will
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