Page 103 of Ruthless Ambition
“Ten minutes,” she told him. “Want me to put it on the low heat?”
“Yes, I need to work out a few knots,” he told her as he passed her. “Set the alarm when you leave,” he instructed, and as he walked past me, he didn’t acknowledge me at all.
I stood there awkwardly before he called down to me.
“Angel, haven’t you got a clothing situation that needs attention?”
With cheeks flaming, I said goodbye to Jane and dashed up the stairs to the room I was using. As I took off my blouse, I folded it and put it on a chair before I loosened my skirt. Did he dress for dinner? No, he usually ate alone. What would he wear? The bed was made, better than I had made it this morning, but my overnight bag was left alone.
Bending over, I looked inside. Sweats? Loungewear? Jammies?
Pushing my skirt down, I unclasped my bra and headed to the shower. At home, I wore sweats and a T-shirt. Onyx would get me in what I felt comfortable in. I wasn’t standing on ceremony for him. After my shower and finally putting on a pair of panties and sweats, I brushed my hair out as I pulled out a simple gray T-shirt. With my feet bare, I headed back downstairs.
Onyx was on the large L-shaped couch, his clothes very similar to mine, as he looked through his tablet. His hair was damp, and he looked up as I came down the stairs.
“Better?” he asked slyly.
“Definitely.”
“Let’s eat,” he said as he stood and led me into the kitchen. Jane was gone, but the food was on a hot plate over the stove. He must be used to this, because with ease, he pulled dishes out of the oven, and with efficiency, he served us both grilled fillet of salmon, white jasmine rice, and a side of green beans.
“Red or white?” he asked as he took out two glasses.
“White, please.”
He brought it over to the breakfast bar and then hesitated. “Table?”
“Do you usually eat here?” I asked him.
“I actually eat on the couch,” he said with an almost embarrassed shrug.
“Me too,” I told him and picked up my plate and wine. “Shall we?”
Onyx nodded, and we went to his couch, and he switched the TV on. ESPN was on, and he looked at me.
“Sports agent,” I said as I pointed at myself. “I’m good with sports,” I told him with a smile.
We ate our dinner, and we kept up a running commentary on the sports news. Onyx was actually funny, and I found myself laughing a few times. He reminded me of the boy I met in college, not the unfeeling bastard I knew now.
“Why don’t you say goodbye when you end a phone call?” I asked him suddenly. His smile froze, and he took a sip of wine. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget it.”
“My grandfather,” he said quietly, “was the best guy. He was crazy,” he said with a fond smile. “My dad says I have more of him in me than he would like,” Onyx said with a smirk. “My mother is very strict with her children’s manners.” He rolled his eyes comically. “I know what to say in polite conversation,” he added.
“She must have her hands full,” I teased, “with you and the twins?”
“She tries,” he chuckled. “My grandfather was on his boat. He was tinkering, as he liked to call it, when his heart went.” Onyx shifted in his seat. “He called me,” he cleared his throat, “and I told him to keep speaking to me, as my dad called the emergency services.” His hand ran through his hair, and I regretted asking him. He was obviously uncomfortable at the memory.
“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t need to tell me.”
“No, it’s . . .” He shook his head. “It’s stupid. He died while he was on the phone with me. I heard it the moment he left us. I never got to say goodbye.”
“That’s so sad, I’m sorry.”
“So, I don’t say goodbye on the phone.”
I stared at him, and he looked at me before looking away again. “Thatisstupid,” I told him as I tried to stop my smile. “If anything, that would make me want to make sure I’d said goodbye in case something happened.”
Onyx groaned. “Only you, Balan! Only you would argue with me over my personal choice.”
