“But I appreciate your support. There’s no need to worry for me.”
“Oh, I don’t. If there’s one thing I won’t ever have to worry about, it’s you.” With a smile, she turned for the car and climbed in.
I watched that last SUV drive away, taking a moment to collect myself, to let the sense of understanding—and I couldn’t call it forgiveness, but acceptance, maybe?—sink in. It was emotional distance, as if observing them from behind a glass wall. A moment of objectivity. It was easier to think of Natasha as a wild honey badger, hissing at me with a threat she couldn’t act on. Because there was nothing she could do to me that hadn’t already been done, other than get me fired. But so long as I didn’t take the bait and open her cage, everything would be fine.
With the draw of a long, heavy breath, I turned for the doors to check on vendor load-out before heading to the club. Walking the plush hallways of the Plaza, Brock was on my mind.
Natasha I could accept. But Brock I could not. Considering he was in his mid-thirties, I figured it could be a midlife crisis. Or maybe some Peter Pan complex. He was vain, and on that merit alone, I could see the appeal of someone like Natasha. And he was arrogant, which he’d found a likeness with in her. Really, they had so much more in common than he and I did. She offered him youth, power, and the combined pride that made them nearly bulletproof.
I wondered if either of them had feelings, real, honest feelings. Natasha definitely felt rage and jealousy. Brock felt entitlement. But beyond that, what did they care for other than themselves?
And how had I gone on so long with someone so deeply selfish?
As much as I hated seeing him, he just kept making it easy for me to walk away. Oh, how much harder it would have been had he told me all the things I’d once wanted to hear, professed his love, begged me for forever. Don’t get me wrong, I still would have walked away. It just would have been harder, that was all.
I had to admit my satisfaction when Brock had seen Kash and me together. When Kash snarked at him with that easy smile on his face, defended me when he didn’t need to, saved me when I could have saved myself, just because he could. Just because he wanted to.
A hot ache bloomed in my chest. Kash was my safe place, my refuge. He was the best part of my life, which at present was dominated by the pack of starving hyenas known as the Felix Femmes and the fact that I was on the rebound and homeless. He gave me respite. But what had started off as a distraction had turned into something more. Something deeper.
I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want it to go away, though I’d done my best to put a modicum of space between us, thin as it was. There was nothing else I could do since realizing my feelings and the subsequent awareness that they probably weren’t returned. Except to tell him the truth.
But if I lost my safe place now, I’d come unraveled.
I closed my eyes and hung on to Kash with all my strength, solidly in denial where I would remain until I had no other choice.
The ballroom was pandemonium. Racks of chairs were being filled noisily. The kitchen crew rid tables of remaining glasses and flatware. Table linens were stripped and dumped into rolling bins. My two remaining interns were helping Kash pack up the centerpieces and displays, and by the look of it, they were nearly done. Sadly, Tess’s organization didn’t work in reverse—everything had been shoved willy-nilly in boxes and loaded onto carts, which hotel employees were already rolling out the back to be moved into his van. He directed it all with that cool, collected way he had about him, commanding attention while somehow remaining affable and undemanding. And everyone listened because everyone loved him.
I, on the other hand, ruled by fear. Not on purpose—it was just my nature. A byproduct of my incessant suspicion and general mistrust that someone else could do any given job to my requirements. Especially when the results of their work reflected directly on me.
As I checked in with the various crews, I watched Kash out of my periphery, wishing I could be so relaxed while being that productive.