Page 53 of The Focal Point

“It’s too late for sorry. Find someone else to finish your house.”

Chapter 21

Bailey

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“HERE’S THE PAPERWORK for your new client.”

Kristen held out the folder toward me. I reached for it, then hesitated as though it would bite me—it was a plain manilla folder. Then I took a deep breath, shaking away the feeling, and took it from her.

“I also uploaded all your notes on their house to their file on the computer. And I sent Liam, I mean Mr. Bradford, the names of the other designers.”

My assistant fell silent, and I could feel her eyes on me. She had been dying to ask since I had come into work a week ago and told her the project had finished. It was abrupt and entirely unexpected, but I hadn’t been in the mood to share anything with her. Or anyone, for that matter. And I knew I looked terrible, with bags under eyes puffy from crying, my clothing wrinkled and messy.

Yet again, I felt humiliated, used, and unloved by someone who was supposed to care for me. And yet again, I had fallen and fallen hard.

Since that morning at Liam’s, I had come to the conclusion that I was entirely done with love. It wasn’t worth the hassle, and after my two spectacular burnouts, I didn’t trust that the future or anyone else would turn out any differently.

Liam had seemed like the one—he had done an incredible job making me believe he was a good guy, a decent human being with his stories of his family, donating expensive equipment and software to hospitals, and treating me like I mattered.

It had all been lies based on a lie, and I didn’t know what had been real and what hadn’t. If any of it had been real to begin with.

Russ had been the same way, telling lie upon lie until I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Until I was questioning my thoughts, thinking I had somehow misread the situation or imagined something. Until I was blaming myself and my workaholic tendencies for our—my—troubles.

“Is there anything else you need?”

I realized my attention had drifted from my assistant, who was watching me with a mixture of concern and reticence. For once, she had dropped the quips and tell-it-like-it-is attitude and let me deal with whatever I needed to get through. Maybe she didn’t know what to do. I certainly didn’t.

“No, I’m okay.” I tried for a smile and was sure it came out as more of a grimace. Kristen watched me for a moment more before she nodded, offering me a small, unconvincing smile, and left.

I waited until I heard the soft click of the door closing behind her before I buried my face in my hands, pushing on my eyes with my palms until a dancing kaleidoscope of light blossomed behind my eyelids.

All I wanted to do was forget that any of this had happened—I wanted to forget about Liam and how he had made me feel. The way he had made me believe I was the only one in the world for him, that he cared. I wanted to forget his stupid face and his stupid touch and the stupid way he made me feel.

I forced myself to take several deep breaths in and out, shaking my head to banish all the feelings and thoughts unrelated to work so I could dive back into my projects. At least, at the end of the day, I had those. And I had thrown myself into work since that morning with all the revelations about Liam.

But something strange had happened—yes, I distracted myself with work so I didn’t have to face what had happened. And yet, some part of me had resisted working 24/7 as I had wanted to, as I would have before. Instead, I had found myself looking for little ways to eke out some personal time.

Whatever Liam had or hadn’t done, he had gotten me out of a space I had been in for a long time—a space without any space for myself. He had shown me that I liked having time to do what I wanted, and I didn’t want to go back. Neither my body nor my mind wanted to go back—I had slept in and come in late for work for the first time I could remember. Kristen had even called that morning to ask if I was okay, thinking I had passed out.

Well, if nothing else, at least I had that. And on that thought, I turned back to my computer screen and the plans I was building for a new client.

Who wasn’t nearly as fun as Liam—they were all business and picky to boot.

A knock a few minutes later startled me.

“Yes?” I asked, aware my tone was testy. I had finally managed to push away thoughts of Liam and get into a rhythm.

Instead of an answer, the door opened, and Thomas looked around the frame like he expected me to bite his head off.

“Oh, Thomas. Um, come in.”

Although I was confused by his presence, I had a feeling I knew why he was in my office this morning.

“Bailey.” He stepped into the room, then stopped still, as though he didn’t know where to go from there. “Uh, how are you doing?”

I knew he knew what had happened—he was Liam’s best friend and was here now. It was doubtful he was here to hire me for another job, which I wouldn’t accept anyway. Thus, there was no reason to hide how I was feeling from him.