Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (33 page)

I glanced at the clock in my room as I changed out of my suit and into a pair of dark jeans—4:30. I fastened my belt, an accessory Talia seemed to enjoy removing, topping it off with the snug black t-shirt that she had practically salivated over the last time I wore it. Her reaction had instantly turned it into my new favorite.

I was sincerely hoping to entice her into a foray into her office while I was there. Not that she would deny me if I was firm enough about my desires. She thrived on my assertive nature.

But, before I could bend her over that desk, I had to make a quick trip to her apartment to drop off the final gift she would need for her surprise. The actual surprise wasn’t until tomorrow but I still had one last pre-surprise gift to give her before the big reveal—which I was leaving to Ali since she was in town for the weekend. It actually worked out perfectly that way.

I couldn’t help my smile as I picked up the final gift bag and headed for the door. I’d just pop in and leave it on her dresser so she would find it later tonight.

Then it would be me and her on the antique desk in her office at the back of the restaurant. I’d been wanting to lay her naked body across that thing since the moment I first saw it, and tonight was the night. After all, she still had to atone for her dripping display that morning.

I could practically see her splayed wide across its surface already.

Tease me, will she?

This was going to be fun.

Talia

OKAY, SO THIS
time I couldn’t blame being late on Spencer.

This was all on me. The phone had rung as soon as he left and I ended up on the phone with Ali for the better part of an hour, wrapped in a towel and lounging on the bed as we planned our evening out, discussing everything except my previous humiliating call and the fact that I was going to end things with Spencer.

Ali did everything in her power to make me laugh, including sharing stories of Gran’s latest adventures. Apparently, some old coot at the biker bar had grabbed her ass and she laid him out, decked him right there in front of everyone. I was simultaneously shocked and proud.

That little old lady was fierce.

I’d still been laughing when we hung up, Ali assuring me she would pick up my exuberant manager and I at Canary later and instructing me to take a cab to work to avoid needing to retrieve my car. I sent Gina a text telling her to do the same and fell back onto the rumpled bed, replaying the morning in my mind and doing a valiant job of forcing the sorrow from my memories, not wanting to sully it just yet with thoughts of goodbye.

The last few days, I’d been gorging myself on Spencer, taking every opportunity to touch him, kiss him, make love to him. I wasn’t even aware that I was doing it at first. I’d just felt this overwhelming compulsion to be near him. It was so strong that I felt slightly panicky when I would reach for him in the morning to find that he’d already gotten up to start breakfast. It was a rapid flutter in my chest that made me antsy until I could get to him again, touch the soft scruff at his jaw, feel his toned, muscular arms wrapping around me.

I was stock-piling memories because I knew I’d be calling them to mind for a long time to come. I stared into my reflection as I finished my makeup and found that my eyes were once again welling with tears.

Dammit.

I had to stop this.

Spending the night clubbing with the girls would hopefully give me the distraction I needed. I’d try anything to keep from breaking down.

I dressed carefully, wanting to find the fine line between appropriate for the restaurant and chic enough for the club afterward. I went with a simple black wrap dress and the pair of burgundy Louboutin’s I’d splurged on to celebrate Canary’s opening. They’d kill my feet if I worked in them all night, but if I knew Ali, she would be popping in to whisk me away long before closing time. I already anticipated it and called in extra servers just to be sure they weren’t overwhelmed after we took off.

I grabbed a small clutch purse and waited to be notified of my taxi’s arrival.

I didn’t have to wait long, thankfully. The buzzer sounded and I didn’t even wait for them to speak. I just hit the button and said ‘be right down’ as I bolted for the door.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped out, double checking that I had my phone and absently calling out my thanks to Walter, the elderly doorman whom I adored, when I ran straight into someone’s chest.

I stepped back on a gasp, the apology dying on my lips when I realized who I’d bumped into.

Derek.

What the hell was he doing here? The article had been done and submitted a week ago.

Still off balance from our collision, I wobbled on my heels and Derek reached out to steady me, his hands gripping my shoulders. “Easy, Natty. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, pulling out of his grip. “Why are you here, Derek? Our business is done.”

He reached for the messenger bag at his feet, the one I’d knocked from his shoulder when I ran into him, and withdrew a magazine, holding it up for me to see. “I got an advance proof copy and thought you might like to take a look.”

He handed it to me but I didn’t open it. “Don’t bullshit me. You could have mailed this,” I shook the glossy pages at him. “So what’s the real reason you felt the need to deliver it in person?”

At least he had the good sense not to deny having ulterior motives. “Okay, yes, I wanted to see you again but not for the reason you’re thinking.” He glanced over at Walter and lowered his voice, leaning in slightly until I raised a brow and stepped back. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something, take you somewhere a bit more private so we can talk?”

“Not happening, Derek. I’ve said all I intend to say and I’m already late for work. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be going.” I walked briskly out the door but could hear his footfalls behind me.

I faltered when I got to the sidewalk and looked around.

Shit. My cab hadn’t arrived yet.

“Fine,” he called from just over my shoulder. “I can say what I have to say right here, if that would make you more comfortable.”

I stopped and spun on a heel, startling him back a step. “What would make me more comfortable would be for you to just leave me the fuck alone, Derek. You popping up like this, unannounced, uninvited, it’s not fair to keep doing that. I don’t know how else to make myself clear, and I hate being rude to anyone—ever—but you’re leaving me no other option.”

He hung his head slightly and nodded. “I know I deserve every ounce of hatred you have for me, and I know it’s unfair of me to expect your forgiveness but I can’t help trying. Something inside me has been slowly dying, ten years’ worth of decay and regret, and I don’t know how else to stop this feeling of worthlessness I’ve felt ever since I left you. I regretted it the moment I left and I regret it still. I don’t expect you to ever take me back, I’m not stupid enough to ever think you could see me that way again. All I wanted was to make it up to you, to be able to have you look at me with something other than anger and disappointment.”

He looked up at me then, tears threatening to spill from his devastated eyes. “I know now that it will never happen and I have to find a way to live with that. The only thing I could do to help you was make that article the most glowing recommendation of a place—and a person—anyone has ever read. I hope that I’ve done that. I hope your life is filled with all the happiness I was too stupid to give you. I hope you and Spencer go the distance.” Two fat tears rolled down his face, dripping onto his coat. “It’s pretty obvious he had enough sense to cherish you the way you deserve.”

Maybe it was his erroneous prediction about my future with Spencer, maybe it was my nurturing nature, whatever it was it had me pulling him in for a hug. I actually heard his gasp of surprise when I embraced him and his shoulders shook when I told him I hoped he found happiness, too.

We stood there for long minutes, quietly embracing while each of us fought through a decade’s worth of pain.

Would I be in Derek’s place in ten years? Would I go through the rest of my life regretting ending things with Spencer? It was obvious that I was more in love than I had ever been in my life. Shit, I was standing there comforting the man who had destroyed me as a girl, broken my heart almost beyond repair, and all I could think of was how much I was going to miss Spencer.

What if I was making a mistake? Could I make him so happy that he wouldn’t even notice the absence of children in our lives? Could I be enough? I started to feel a tiny bud of hope blossoming in my chest. Ali’s words of encouragement came back to me then ‘he might surprise you.’ He might want me anyway. I should at least give him the chance to choose, right? The possibility of him choosing to stay made me smile as I pulled out of Derek’s embrace.

The wind picked up as I righted myself and suddenly my face was covered in blond curls. Shit. I should have worn my hair up. I fought against the breeze to tuck it behind my ear and laughed when the tendrils ended up right back in my face.

Derek reached out tentatively, taking the errant strands and tucking them behind the other ear with much more success than I’d had. We were both smiling, buoyant for the first time since he’d come to D.C. A taxi pulled up to the curb and I nodded to the driver, holding up a hand to let him know I’d be right there.

I was turning back to say my final goodbyes to Derek when a figure across the street caught my eye.

Spencer.

He was standing there with a small blue gift bag in his hand and utter devastation on his face.

Spencer

I WAS FUCKING
hallucinating, that was it.

It had to be.

No way was I standing there watching the love of my life in the arms of her sorry-ass ex-boyfriend, right there on the street like they wanted the whole world to see.

Not possible.

My chest burned as I watched them there. Together.

The way his arms wrapped around her and pulled her to him, the heels of her shoes didn’t quite touch the pavement, like any moment he would whisk her off her feet and carry her upstairs to bed.

I felt sick.

Not just the type of sick where you lose your overpriced lunch. No, that would be something you could recover from. What I had was a feeling like being outside myself. Like watching some poor fuck slowly die inside. I looked on, wondering how that pitiful bastard was going to find the strength to either crawl back to his car and slink away or toss himself the five feet it would take to put him into traffic, praying for a goddamn bus to nail him and put him out of his misery.

Soul sick.

The poor fucker wearing my clothes stood there and watched with his heart at his feet as Talia smiled fondly at the man she professed to hate. He watched as she let that son of a bitch touch her face, run his hand through her hair.

And when she spotted the shell of the man who had been head over heels in love with her ten minutes ago, he watched as fear and shame played over her features.

The moment her eyes found me I was sucked back into my body to find that my heart still pounded, my fists still clenched, and my chest still ached so much I could barely breathe. My eyes on hers, I stepped off the curb without as much as a glance at the oncoming traffic.

Her hand flew to her mouth as the sound of car horns pierced the air and she never took her eyes off me, not even when I finally—and miraculously—made it to the curb. Once I was safely across and closing the twenty foot gap between us, traffic resumed with a few stray honks and obscene gestures tossed my way, but I gave it no notice. I was zeroed in on them with a steely determination that blocked out everything else, every other thing on the planet ceased to exist. It was just the three of us. Me, the woman I loved, and the man who still wanted her.

I’d give them one chance to explain this away.

One.

Behind them, a young woman with a stroller exited Talia’s building. She spoke to Talia as she passed and met my eye with a smile. I knew she lived on the third floor, having shared the elevator with her more than once. Her baby—a boy named Caleb—was nine months old and absolutely adorable. He chattered at me every time we saw one another and this inopportune moment was no different. The mother—whose name I couldn’t recall—paused as she passed to let him give a chubby-fisted wave and a few gurgles that she assured me was his way of saying hello.