Page 41 of Bulletproof

“You’re welcome.”

A quick nod, and he was gone, leaving me to look after him. I couldn’t catch Sam’s eye because he was leaning forward at the table, talking, not looking at me at all. It was disheartening to know that none of the man’s attention was on me. He was the job and nothing else. Cristo noticed me lingering and gestured me to come back.

I waved once and ducked out into the rain. I didn’t want to see him anymore. I would make sure to screen his calls. His attention, his interest, his desire could quickly become addictive if I wasn’t careful.

There was an accident, so I ended up ditching the cab and taking the “L” home, getting off at the platform and walking. As I closed in on my loft, I let the pain and frustration finally roll through me.

I hated Sam Kage. I needed him desperately, and he didn’t need me at all. The thought had been festering for weeks, and now, having seen him twice with no word left me cold and shaking. I’d had no idea that I could feel so empty after knowing his heart. And as much as I wanted to keep telling myself that everything was fine and that he loved me and he would just come home and we would resume our life, I knew it was crap. Something had changed; something was very wrong and broken for him to stay away from me. No matter what, I would not have been able to keep myself from him; the fact that he could spoke volumes.

I had to make a change before I drove myself nuts. I had to get out of the city instead of running the risk of turning a corner and seeing him and having him act like we were strangers.

I slammed through the loft when I got home and was standing by one of the windows, eating a yogurt, when there was a knock at the front door. When I opened it without checking, which I did constantly, I was surprised to find Hayes Fisher there.

“Hey.” I smiled at him, calming from just looking at him. He was from my work life, and me in work mode was different, cooler, and so I was. “What’re you doing here?”

“May I come in?”

“Sure,” I said, moving aside.

He walked in, and when I locked the door behind him and turned, he was standing there, looking sheepish, with his hands shoved down into his pockets.

“What’s wrong with you? You look like hell.”

“I didn’t want them to fire you. I wanted you to be the one supervising the job, the one I would see every day and talk⁠—”

“Yeah, I know.” I nodded, starting on my yogurt again. “Mr. Rowe told me.”

“He told you?”

“Yeah.”

“If he—what are you eating?”

“I didn’t get dessert.”

“I’m sorry?”

I had confused him, which happened quite a bit when you weren’t used to following my fragmented train of thought.

“I was out at dinner, and I didn’t get dessert, so I wanted something sweet when I got home, but all I had was yogurt.”

“Do you want dessert?”

“Yeah.” I smiled suddenly. “Oh, you wanna get pie with me?”

“Pie?”

I nodded, grinning wide. “C’mon. It’s good.” I grabbed his hand to tug him after me. “Just lemme grab my keys, and we can⁠—”

“Jory.” He barked out my name, yanking on my hand to stop me, making me look at him. “Were you fired because of me?”

“No.”

“Excellent. I was really worried that⁠—”

“I was fired because Nora Talbot hates me,” I told him, chuckling, “and lied to my boss.”

“Jesus. I⁠—”