He rolled over and his head began to pound. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. And the memory of the photograph on his phone flashed through his mind, an unwanted memory and a painful fact he didn’t want to think about. Unfortunately, it was all he could do. Visualize Lexie and Julian.
Nausea rose, and somehow he managed not to lose all the alcohol he’d consumed last night. He reached for his watch on the nightstand and didn’t find it. He sat up and, ignoring the throbbing in his head, looked at the empty place where he always kept his Patek Phillipe. The watch that soothed him. The same one he’d touched yesterday before he’d left the apartment to meet with Ian.
Before his entire life had gone to shit.
Where was it? Kade was ridiculously organized, and if there was one thing he wouldn’t misplace, it was this particular timepiece.
He headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth, recounting yesterday in his head while he did so. He’d placed the watch on the nightstand and left to have lunch. Saturday was Helen’s day off, but it was dry cleaning day, which meant … Lexie had been to his apartment.
No, he thought, rinsing the toothbrush and replacing it in the holder. History would not fucking repeat itself. Lexie hadn’t taken something that belonged to him. Not for any reason. But she’d been with Julian … and he hadn’t thought her capable of that either.
He returned to the bedroom and picked up the phone, dialing the doorman downstairs. “Joseph, this is Kaden Barnes. Penthouse. I was wondering if you could tell me who signed in yesterday?”
“Just Ms. Parker and she’s on your approved list.”
“Helen wasn’t in?” But he felt guilty even asking. Helen had been with him for over two years, and she’d been an exemplary employee. She’d taken good care of him and had proven herself trustworthy.
“No sir.”
“Thank you,” Kade said, everything inside him withering even more.
How could he consistently choose wrong and pick women who stole from him and had no problem hurting him to get what they wanted? Did his money make him that much of an easy target? Or was he just that fucking stupid?
He raised his hand, but the splint on it mocked his ability to hit another wall.
His cell phone rang. Derek’s name flashed on the screen. He hit accept. “Hey.”
“Hey. Luke and I were going to get brunch at that fancy new place that makes killer mimosas. The one near the office. You in?”
Kade groaned, the thought of any alcohol turning his stomach. “The PI sent me a picture of Lexie and Julian together,” he said, his stomach twisting painfully at the reminder.
Derek muttered a curse. “We’ll be right there.”
Twenty minutes later, both men arrived and made themselves at home on Kade’s couch. They’d already examined the photo.
“I’ve tried and tried, and I can’t come up with one good explanation for it,” Kade muttered, and that was only part of the reason he hadn’t returned her calls.
“I know it doesn’t look good, but you should probably talk to her,” Derek said. “I don’t see Lexie as someone capable of … what? Corporate espionage? Playing both sides?”
“You just like her,” Kade muttered.
“I do too, but he’s right. This looks extremely bad,” Luke said. “So what are you going to do?”
“Fire her.” Kade’s stomach twisted into knots as the answer came to him, loud and clear.
Chapter Eleven
Lexie had a crappy weekend. Kendall’s headache that wasn’t had turned into a raging migraine by Sunday night, which had necessitated a trip to the emergency room for IV meds. She’d tried to call and text Kade more than once, but he wasn’t returning her messages, and that wasn’t like him.
By the time Monday came, she felt like she hadn’t slept much all weekend. Because she hadn’t. Between missing Kade, not understanding his silence, and her sister’s off-kilter behavior, her own head was spinning.
Although she overslept, she wasn’t about to miss work. She piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun, put on some blush, along with mascara, and rushed out the door, miraculously making it to work before Kade. The minute he stepped out of the elevator, she headed for the coffeemaker and prepared his morning brew the way he liked it and walked over to his office.
“Good morning,” she said, entering without knocking. After the weekend she’d had, she couldn’t wait to see him.
He stood at his desk, wearing a dark tee shirt and a pair of old jeans. He didn’t look up when she spoke, and her stomach pitched uncomfortably.
“Put the coffee down,” he said.