part of him felt like he was losing her…but he’d never really had her to begin with.
“I promise to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” She walked out of his office.
She had a date—with another man. Chord sat up straight. Another man would have Grace all to himself. He would touch her and laugh with her and probably kiss her good night. What else would he do with her?
Chord pushed back from his desk as hard has he could, rolled back, and banged against the wall. His 2013 team pictured came crashing down from the wall knocking him in the head. Damnit, that hurt. He rubbed the back of his head.
Grace had a date…with someone else.
Son of a bitch.
Chapter 14
The next morning, after dropping off the kids, Chord sat behind his huge wooden desk in his stadium office and tried to focus on the three design sample boards the decorator, Jessica, had sent over.
He picked up the first one. Different shades of green radiated nature in a Kermet-the-Frog, wood nymph kind of way. Was he a green person? He’d never thought of himself as a lover of green. He didn’t hate green, but grass-green walls and green furniture was too much.
He tossed that one on the floor and picked up the next board. It was pale yellows. The paint color resembled his last urine test. He tossed that one on the floor.
The next sample board had a swatch of brown leather and a design of a sofa and chair that looked overstuffed and comfortable. The paint was kind of a dirty white and the material was the color of a ripe peach. It wasn’t bad. Was he a brown-leather, peachy sort of guy?
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Grace to see what she thought, and then he remembered that he wasn’t speaking to her because she had a date with some mystery guy. He threw the sample board on the floor.
Grace wouldn’t go out with him, but she’d sure found someone else in a big damn hurry. With his palms, he rubbed his eyes. It didn’t matter. Grace was free to date whomever she chose. But it did matter— to him.
He wanted to be the one to get dressed up and take her out to dinner. They would go to Jeffrey’s or some other restaurant—whatever she liked. He’d wear khakis and a sport coat, and she’d wear a dress. They would laugh and talk about the kids or the meaning of life or nothing at all. There wouldn’t be those weird, awkward lapses in conversation common on first dates because Grace always had something funny to say. He loved trying to figure out how her mind worked, and he never knew what she’d do or say next.
He leaned back in his desk chair and propped his feet on the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle. She’d rejected him.
Thinking back, he didn’t ever remember being rejected by a woman. He sifted through his memory. Nope, never been rejected. He pursed his lips. It freaking sucked. The worst part was since she was his friend, he wanted to talk to her about it, but he couldn’t very well pick up the phone and discuss her with her. Not only had she blown into his life, but she’d sneaked up behind him and became his friend and confidant.
Not only did it hurt that he couldn’t pick up the phone and tell her about this great new lady who’d piqued his interest, but he felt cheated he couldn’t talk to her about it.
He glanced at the sample boards on the floor, and he wanted her opinion on those. He’s always been a decisive man, but he was willing to admit having someone else to discuss things with, bounce ideas off of, and to have a fresh viewpoint was nice. It’s not that he couldn’t make this decision without Grace, but he didn’t want to.
But she was going out with another man. It shouldn’t matter, but he was disappointed. He felt left out. Tonight was going to suck. There was no way around it.
***
That evening, Grace put on her favorite red sundress, slipped a light denim jacket over it, and stepped into her red sandals. The evening was in the sixties, so
“I promise to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” She walked out of his office.
She had a date—with another man. Chord sat up straight. Another man would have Grace all to himself. He would touch her and laugh with her and probably kiss her good night. What else would he do with her?
Chord pushed back from his desk as hard has he could, rolled back, and banged against the wall. His 2013 team pictured came crashing down from the wall knocking him in the head. Damnit, that hurt. He rubbed the back of his head.
Grace had a date…with someone else.
Son of a bitch.
Chapter 14
The next morning, after dropping off the kids, Chord sat behind his huge wooden desk in his stadium office and tried to focus on the three design sample boards the decorator, Jessica, had sent over.
He picked up the first one. Different shades of green radiated nature in a Kermet-the-Frog, wood nymph kind of way. Was he a green person? He’d never thought of himself as a lover of green. He didn’t hate green, but grass-green walls and green furniture was too much.
He tossed that one on the floor and picked up the next board. It was pale yellows. The paint color resembled his last urine test. He tossed that one on the floor.
The next sample board had a swatch of brown leather and a design of a sofa and chair that looked overstuffed and comfortable. The paint was kind of a dirty white and the material was the color of a ripe peach. It wasn’t bad. Was he a brown-leather, peachy sort of guy?
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Grace to see what she thought, and then he remembered that he wasn’t speaking to her because she had a date with some mystery guy. He threw the sample board on the floor.
Grace wouldn’t go out with him, but she’d sure found someone else in a big damn hurry. With his palms, he rubbed his eyes. It didn’t matter. Grace was free to date whomever she chose. But it did matter— to him.
He wanted to be the one to get dressed up and take her out to dinner. They would go to Jeffrey’s or some other restaurant—whatever she liked. He’d wear khakis and a sport coat, and she’d wear a dress. They would laugh and talk about the kids or the meaning of life or nothing at all. There wouldn’t be those weird, awkward lapses in conversation common on first dates because Grace always had something funny to say. He loved trying to figure out how her mind worked, and he never knew what she’d do or say next.
He leaned back in his desk chair and propped his feet on the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle. She’d rejected him.
Thinking back, he didn’t ever remember being rejected by a woman. He sifted through his memory. Nope, never been rejected. He pursed his lips. It freaking sucked. The worst part was since she was his friend, he wanted to talk to her about it, but he couldn’t very well pick up the phone and discuss her with her. Not only had she blown into his life, but she’d sneaked up behind him and became his friend and confidant.
Not only did it hurt that he couldn’t pick up the phone and tell her about this great new lady who’d piqued his interest, but he felt cheated he couldn’t talk to her about it.
He glanced at the sample boards on the floor, and he wanted her opinion on those. He’s always been a decisive man, but he was willing to admit having someone else to discuss things with, bounce ideas off of, and to have a fresh viewpoint was nice. It’s not that he couldn’t make this decision without Grace, but he didn’t want to.
But she was going out with another man. It shouldn’t matter, but he was disappointed. He felt left out. Tonight was going to suck. There was no way around it.
***
That evening, Grace put on her favorite red sundress, slipped a light denim jacket over it, and stepped into her red sandals. The evening was in the sixties, so
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