“Sorry about that,” she says, her smile open, sweet. “The elevator was taking too long, and I wanted to get this fabric up to the studio. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
I wonder what’s behind the pretty face. I don’t want to question her honesty, her forthrightness, but I’ve been duped before. I gave a woman my trust and she turned it on me like a loaded gun.
I don’t return Lotus’s smile, unsure if I should take steps back, or move forward because either way, there may be something to lose. Her infectious grin disintegrates. Her mouth flattens into the line I saw before we started getting to know each other.
“I gotta go,” I say abruptly, pushing off the wall and past her, determined to leave it at this and to leave her alone. I’m on my way down the stairs, but can’t resist one look back. Lotus still stands in the same spot, facing away from me, her back a stiff line, one arm around the bolt of cloth and a hand on her hip.
I’m a jackass.
I rush back to the landing above and stand behind her, looping an arm around her waist. She jerks against my hold, but I don’t let go.
“Hey.” I expel a long breath, stirring the curls arrowing wildly into my face.
“I’m sorry.”
She whirls around to face me, shaking my arm from her waist.
“For what? Acting like we don’t know each other?” Anger snaps in her voice, but I hear the hurt. I put it there. “I don’t think we’ve fucked yet, so it’s a little odd that you’re already treating me like yesterday’s trash.”
“I was abrupt. It’s my fault, not yours.”
“Oh, I know that,” she says, her words as hot as the summer outside these air-conditioned walls. “But it’s okay. You do you and I’ll do me. Is that simple enough for you, friend?”
“Can I please explain?”
“No.” She grabs the cloth and marches toward the next landing of stairs.
I take the bolt from under her arm and toss it against the wall. Grasping her wrist gently, conscious of the fine bones in my big hands, I lean against the wall and pull her to stand between my legs.
“I’m sorry.” I push a clump of curls back, exposing the gold studs running along the whorl of her ear. “May I please explain that I’m a dumbass?”
She stills, but doesn’t pull away.
“I didn’t have to come to the office today,” I admit, my voice quiet in the privacy of the stairwell.
She flicks a look up at me from under her lashes, curious and cautious.
“JP mentioned prototypes of the watches, and I offered to come see them in person.” I laugh at myself and shake my head. “I jumped at the chance to see you.”