post-it: Friday is a GAZELLE. You’re a TIGER. Take it down!
You’re damn right I am.
The door swings open and I jump in the chair. The post-it flies into the air and flutters back to the ground as Tom stands in front of me, his tie loosened around his neck. I remember snaking my fingers through a tie just like that, and yanking his head close, his hot lips on my mouth.
Stop thinking about sex.
He looks at me as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “You’re here.”
“In the flesh.”
“Why?”
I sigh. “I was trying to contact you.”
He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “So you decided to beat on my groupies?”
“I didn’t beat her.”
“You totally were. I was screaming at you both for at least thirty seconds before you finally paid attention.”
“That’s an exaggeration. Things just got out of hand”
A smirk lifts to his haunted eyes that still, even after all this time, burn with desire for me. “Isobelle,” he says in his rich voice. “You couldn’t have just sent an email?”
Damn, it’s hard to be in a room with him. “Like I haven’t tried a hundred thousand times. Do you even read your own emails?”
He grabs the arms of my chairs, and my heart jumps from his closeness. “Maybe you should have made the subject lines a little steamier.”
“Don’t be gross.”
“My team forwards all intimate emails directly to me. I have a wall papered with nudes and tits sent to Prince Thomas.”
“Jesus!”
“It’s just a joke. Relax.”
“Good.”
“I always delete the nudes after wanking to them.”
“For the love of God, Tom.”
It was such a waste of time meeting him. There’s laughter in his eyes, but it doesn’t help looking at them because they are the same shape as Emma’s. Our daughter. The baby he doesn’t know exists.
His tone softens. “Where have you been all this time?”
My pulse jumps in my neck.
Don’t get angry. This isn’t about you.
I swallow it down. “I’ve been exactly where you sent me: the greatest country in the world.”
“Greatest country in the world? I can’t even challenge a mate to a duel. How fucked is that?”
“Yes, what a loss. Poor Thomas can’t wave his sword around. I’m not even going to touch the Freudian aspects of that.”
His eyes narrow. “Dueling is a sport. A highly respected sport in some circles.”
“You call it a sport, I call it a dick-waving contest. The bigger the sword—”
He makes a rich sound at the back of his throat, his smile tugging at my chest. “You have first hand experience with my sword, love. You know damn well it’s not small.”
How did we end up talking about his dick?
Focus.
“I need your help—”
Tom rolls his eyes. “You’re a lousy negotiator, you know that, right?”
“Yes, please, tell me all about negotiating. You of all people should know what that’s like.”
His smile twitches.
“I mean, it’s not like you can just buy anything you want.”
“I don’t remember you being this cheeky when we were together.”
When we were together.
Just like that, the levity dies in my soul.
Tom straightens, releasing the arms of my chair as I let out a sigh.
“Well that sucked the fun out of the room.
Like there was any to begin with. “This isn’t about us. It’s my—”
“Then I’m not interested in what you have to say.”
The chillness in his voice freezes my chest, but I shoulder on. “Yes, you are. Otherwise you wouldn’t have followed me here.”
He gives me a stiff smile that’s full of pain, and he grasps the door handle. Fuck, he’s leaving! How did this happen?
“Tom, wait!”
He wrenches the door open, speaking to the door. “I thought you wanted me, not something from me.”
I wasn’t prepared for this—not that heart-wrenching tone in his voice or the quick rejection of the door slamming in my face.
“Mom, I tried.”
“I just don’t understand,” she says, her tone aghast. “He loves you. Why wouldn’t he listen?”
The phone is hot against my ear as I try to one-handedly feed the baby in her high chair. Half the applesauce I shovel in my baby’s mouth dribbles down her chin. I scoop it back up and feed her. “Because he doesn’t love me, Mom. You remember what he did to us, right?”
“Of course I remember, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t changed. You’ve heard about Liam.”
I shake my head. “I only know what I’ve seen through tabloids.”
“You have to try again.”
I gape at the wall, unaware that my mother can’t see my father. “I don’t know what else I can do, Mom. I’ve got Emma to take care