Without waiting, she turned on her heels to march out. There could be some breathing room or the photographers could show up any second. In the center of a city, there was always a chance someone could be close by, eager to get the scoop.
She’d never run down the stairs so fast. A million things went through her mind. How much she didn’t get a chance to say and how much she’d have to withhold.
Primrose wouldn’t have gone anywhere without telling Tiller her destination. Their father’s chief valet was more like an extended member of the family than an employee. He orchestrated everything and would already have anything Primrose could possibly need on standby. That was his job and he did it well.
Swinging herself around the bannister that she’d admired so much on arriving there, Poppy didn’t acknowledge just how much adrenaline was surging through her until she heard both her fists pounding on Turner’s door. She couldn’t leave without telling him. Couldn’t go without seeing him one last time.
Sucking in a breath, she stepped back. Her mind was manic. Her heart racing. Poppy didn’t even know what she planned to say, she just had to look him in the eye.
Standing there, waiting, she expected the door to open any second.
Goodbye. It was a word that she’d never expected to say to Turner. Goodbye. Some part of her always knew they couldn’t remain as close as they had been. But she hadn’t got as far as actually thinking about how they’d create that distance. Leaving was one way to do it, though it was far more distance than she’d ever wanted between them.
But it was the only ending that would work. She couldn’t be with another man while Turner was a part of her life. Her eye, her body, would always be drawn to him. And the idea of seeing him with another woman made her sick.
They needed a clean break. Saying goodbye was necessary. It had to be done.
Except as she psyched herself up, it dawned on her just how long she’d been standing there looking at his door.
If they didn’t have plans, and she didn’t know for sure that he was alone, Poppy always knocked. Faye could drop in whenever. Charley stopped in there without warning. The guys, mainly Ritchie, would appear at various random times.
On any other occasion, she’d walk away or call him. Her phone was still upstairs and if she walked away, there would never be another chance to return.
Taking the risk that Turner would understand her urgency, she grabbed the door handle intending to charge in. It didn’t give.
“No,” she whispered, laying a hand on the wood. “No. No. No.”
Either a car or a photographer could appear any second. She couldn’t leave without seeing him.
“No!” she called out, slamming the side of her fist against the door.
“Babe?”
Spinning around in the direction of the sound of his voice, Poppy was overwhelmed by the sight of him at the end of the corridor, in front of the side door.
Just so grateful that he was there, she didn’t even say anything. Poppy’s body reacted and she started toward him, speeding up until she got close enough to grab his face and pull him down for a kiss.
Their last kiss. She knew it, which was why she poured so much of herself into it.
Turner laughed as he pulled back. “Charley go out?”
“Yes, but…” He went around her to head for his front door. As she hurried to keep up, she noticed his hands and forearms were thick with muck. “Everything okay?”
“Drain out back was clogged,” he said, turning to her. “Key’s in my front left.”
It took her a second, but she got with it and put her hand in his jeans pocket to retrieve the key and unlock the door.
“Have you got a minute?” she asked, pushing the door open so he could go in first.
“Gotta go across town to the Eights, but I’ve got some time for you,” he said, using his foot to push his bedroom door aside, probably so he could go through to his bathroom.
In the living room, she watched him go, but didn’t follow. She couldn’t. He’d wash up, maybe strip down, and he’d expect her to be waiting in his bed.
The Eights was his name for the biggest building he managed, the one with the most units. He had work to do, but he’d put it off for her… for their mutual satisfaction. He didn’t have a clue about Holden or