“They’re just plain old chocolates.”
The eyebrow crawls up her forehead, making for her hairline.
I muster up a smile, all the while telling myself, I’m the bigger person, I’m the bigger person, I’m the bigger person. “Thought we should smooth things out, since we have to go to the wedding together with Vi and all.”
Kim continues to give me the same “I don’t trust you for shit” expression. I’d bet my entire bank balance she’s looking for an ulterior motive. Just how hard is it for her to accept that not everyone has a secret agenda? Or maybe she can’t. Maybe her head is so full of hidden schemes that she can’t imagine anybody else being a straight shooter.
“Let me make something clear. I’m a professional,” she says finally, her voice full of faux sweetness. “I can play my part at the wedding without a bribe.”
Trying to get Melanie to draft a decent executive memo would be less frustrating than this. I put the box on the kitchen counter and walk out, since there’s no point in even talking to Kim at this point. I shouldn’t have bothered. I shouldn’t have even felt bad. I don’t know why I softened…or cared about her reaction or feelings. Maybe it was the damned kiss. That messed with my head more than the games she’s been playing with all those idiot heiresses or asking me for Dane’s housewarming gift.
When I step out into the hall, I almost run into a neatly groomed guy in a suit. Unlike the other one she was hugging, this one looks older and more—how can I put it?—mature…? Certainly more successful, from the air of wealth and command around him.
Is this some new man Kim’s going to hug…and more, since I’m not going to be around to interrupt?
Somehow, the very idea pisses me off. Not because I give a shit about this man’s herpes status, but because I just don’t like Kim being near him. He’s probably a player. And a dick. And even if he isn’t, she shouldn’t be hugging and…doing things with strange men, especially in the hall. Actually, she shouldn’t do them at all, period, even in her own home.
Before I can figure out why I find the idea so distasteful, I say, “She’s not interested.”
The other guy frowns, his gaze flicking over me with the slight wariness of a person dealing with a possibly rabid dog…or a time bomb. “Great. I’m not interested either.”
Haha. Yeah, right. “Who are you?”
“Her potential roommate.”
What the fuck? But before I can say anything else, he slips inside and closes the door in my face.
I do my best to rein in an urge to kick the damned thing down. Potential roommate? Why in the world is she getting a male roommate? There are millions of women in the city looking for roommates…aren’t there?
Something sour and ugly unfurls in my gut. It feels an awful lot like jealousy…but that can’t be right. Probably ate something bad at lunch with David. There’s no way it can be anything other than indigestion. The outrage I’m feeling right now is…is… It’s about setting a good example for Vi. Right! What will she think if she sees Kim living with some guy she isn’t even married to?
Since when did you become so medieval in your attitude?
Since I had a daughter. And I’m not medieval. I’m just…
I put a hand over my belly. I just have an upset stomach.
I’m absolutely not jealous.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kim
Nate’s sudden visit is surprising, but I should’ve expected it. He and Evie are having some issues, and even though Nate and I aren’t super close, we do know each other. Nate’s family is related to Salazar’s by marriage. And I’m the one who helped Evie get a job with Nate in the first place, so he probably thinks I owe him some advice.
But it’s okay. Helping Nate fix things with Evie will keep me distracted for a while. And it’s hilarious he let Wyatt think he might become my roommate. I’m not looking for anyone, but Wyatt doesn’t know that. And I don’t want Wyatt to even possibly suspect I felt anything for him after our kiss.
So I give Nate what advice I can. But I’m no love doctor and I can’t guarantee what I told him will mend things between him and Evie. Once he’s gone, I sigh and turn away from the door, only to notice the box of chocolates Wyatt left behind.
The brand is familiar. It’s one that Salazar likes—because his ex-wife-slash-current-
girlfriend loves it—and Salazar has me order myself a box on my birthday every year. Just because he deigns to remember my birthday doesn’t mean he’s actually going to go to the trouble of getting me a gift himself. But I don’t care. They’re seriously the most intensely orgasmic truffles I’ve ever had. It’s almost as good as the crème brûlée from Éternité.
Still, I feel like the box Wyatt brought is a nuclear warhead, armed and ticking. Not because I think he actually put herpes virus or rat poison in it. I’m feeling slightly guilty about having reacted that pettily earlier. What he said yesterday was uncalled for, but I didn’t have to stoop to the same level and be a total bitch when he was trying to apologize.
It’s just…it’s hard to not get annoyed when he keeps swinging between nice guy and asshole. It keeps me off balance, and it’s the worse when he acts like he’s totally justified in his douchebaggery because of something I supposedly did. The thing is that no matter how I rack my brain, I can’t think of what I could have done to cause it. Okay, so I paired him with one brainless heiress after another, but it wasn’t like he didn’t get me back for that. I still think he’s using some kind of secret animal training to get his cat to leave me dead bugs. There’s no other explanation when I’m not even the damn cat’s owner! As a matter of fact, I found a spider carcass not even half an hour before he came by with the chocolate.
Maybe it’s animal hypnosis…