Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (80 page)

With Eddalyn being out of the country for the last week, I’m required to take the lead. We discuss what’s coming down the pipeline and then I look to the rest of the team to provide updates on whatever projects they are currently working on. My focus is shit, and my thoughts keep wandering back to the conversation I had with Benjamin earlier. I’m grateful when our meeting is adjourned, giving me the excuse to close myself in my office for a few hours. However, I’m only alone for a few minutes before there’s a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I grumble.

Brittany peeks here head in, smiling brightly, and I wonder if perhaps this is an opportunity; if perhaps our paths were destined to cross here and now; if perhaps
fucking
her, as I know she’s always wanted, is suddenly an option worth seriously entertaining.

“Do you have a minute?” she asks hesitantly.

“Yes. Shut the door. Have a seat.”

She does as I ask, occupying the chair in front of my desk, crossing her legs. Her dress hikes up her thigh, but her dark tights prevent me from being able to truly appreciate what she has to offer. My eyes then travel up, perusing her full breasts before catching sight of her lips. She’s speaking, but I only make out every other word. I’m distracted by the fact that she’s not nearly as distracting as she once was. My dick has absolutely
no
interest, making my earlier thoughts a proven
fact.

I have no desire to bury my dick in anyone other than Teddy.

That shit won’t fly.

I need a drink.

“So, anyway—I guess I was just wondering if you could take a look at my design? Help me try to figure out where I’m stuck?”

“Sure, fine,” I mutter, feeling bored.

“Great, thanks.” She stands, as if to leave, and I’m relieved. But just as she reaches for the door handle, she stops, turning back to look at me. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re distracted.
Tense
. Plus, you shaved,” she says, flirtatiously narrowing her eyes at me. “I guess what I’m really wondering is—did you and Teddy break up?”

I glare at her, hoping she’ll catch a fucking clue and leave.

We are not
friends
. Teddy is not her concern, and the bitch has another thing coming if she thinks
I
am.

“I never pegged you as the kind of guy who would settle down, you know. If you want to go out for a drink later—I’m free.”

“Get out, Brittany,” I mumble, completely and utterly disgusted.

She has the audacity to smirk at me before she nods and exits my office.

I wonder how I ever found her remotely fuckable.

“T
eddy?
Teddy…
” I jump when I feel Andrew’s hand on my shoulder, spinning around to face him. He smiles at me compassionately, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. “Sorry to have startled you. We’re getting ready to head out. Why don’t you save the rest of the filing for Monday?”

“Oh,” I murmur, looking down at the slips of paper I hold in my hand. “I only have a couple left. Two more minutes?”

“Sure.”

With a sigh, I turn back around to continue my task. Admittedly, I should be done by now. I’m not myself these days. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve had a hard time focusing on anything, unless I have a camera in my hand. Unfortunately, that doesn’t do me much good while I’m at the gallery. I’m grateful for the patience of Andy and Geoff. I’m doing my best—but I just can’t stop thinking about him…

“Hey.”

I jump with a gasp, slamming the drawer closed before spinning around once more. Andy is standing right where I left him, his smile now expressing more concern than anything else.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still here.”

“What are you doing after work? How about you come out for a drink with us? Or, if you want, we can go back to my place. Carrie would love to see you.”

I force a smile, raking my fingers through my hair as I try and think of the politest way to say
no
. I know that he’s just trying to be supportive, they
all
are, but I’m not in the mood for company.

“I think I’m just going to go home. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

“We have movies,” he counters with a cheesy grin.

“How about Sunday? After I get home from church?”

I know, even as I say the words, that it’s entirely probable that I’ll back out before Sunday comes—but it’s a lot easier to tell the man
no
when he’s not standing in front of me, being the best boss in the world.

“Okay. Sunday.”

I can tell by the look in his eyes that he doesn’t believe the words, either.

“We’re just a phone call away, you know?”

“I know. And I appreciate it. I’m fine, really. Or, you know—getting there. I think I read somewhere that since we were together for four months, I should stop crying in about four weeks or something. I’m halfway there.”

He scowls at me skeptically offering me his elbow before he begins escorting me out of the supply room.

“You do know that’s bullshit, right?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a nod. “But a girl can hope, right?”

“So, what’s the verdict? Drinks?” asks Geoff, rubbing his hands together as we make our way to the reception desk.

“Not tonight. I’m headed home.”

“Need company?”

I manage a half hearted laugh as I let go of Andrew to slip into my coat and grab my purse. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

“Maybe I’d stop worrying if you stopped coming into work with bags under your eyes,” says Geoffrey, taking hold of my chin.

I try avoiding his stare, but he doesn’t let me go. I roll my eyes before meeting his pretty blues.

“I have bad dreams,” I lie, willing myself not to cry.

They’re not bad dreams. I
know
bad dreams, and these are the opposite of nightmares. Every night, in my sleep, I’m with Judah. It sounds ridiculous, but I can’t help it. When I drift off, we’re in Beaver Creek, telling each other secrets in the bathtub; or we’re wandering around a museum, our fingers laced together as he holds onto me as tightly as I hold onto him; or we’re at his house, making love on a snow day. I wake up when he kisses me—or when he brings me to orgasm. Those ones are the worst. There’s no hope of sleep after that.

Geoffrey pulls me from my thoughts as he smacks a kiss against my lips and then drapes his arm around my shoulders. “I’m coming over. It’s settled.”

“
Geoff
—no,” I whine. “It’s okay. Go home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

Thankfully, I get no further argument from either cousin as we make our way out into the cold. When I reach my car, I sink into my driver’s seat, ready to head home and change into something warm and comfortable. I turn the key to start the ignition, but it won’t turn over. I try a second time—and still nothing. That’s all it takes for me to burst into tears. Lately, it doesn’t take much.

I haven’t heard a
word
from Judah in sixteen days. Sometimes, his silence is deafening. It’s as if he’s proclaiming to the world just how easy it was to let me walk away. It breaks my heart over and over again just thinking about it. If it weren’t for the pain, I’d wonder if our relationship happened at all. Since the moment we met, he’s made himself known. Even when we weren’t physically in the same space, I was
aware
of him. Between the flowers, the text messages, and the phone calls, he was always there. Now—
now
he’s like a figment of my imagination.

I miss him so fucking much
.

I cry for a couple minutes, and then I realize that if I don’t try and find someway home, my tears will freeze to my face and I’ll be even more miserable than I already am. I try starting my car twice more, and
finally
it fires up. I let it run for a few minutes and then make my way home. When I arrive, I’m surprised to find Harper pacing back and forth in front of my front door.

“Harp? What are you doing here?”

“Thank fuck, you’re home!”

I stare at her,
really
confused, wondering why she looks so crazed.

“Well? Are we going inside or not?”

“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you call? If you’re checking up on me—”

“I think I did something stupid,” she blurts out.

I offer her a nod, understanding that inside is probably the best place to get to the bottom of her cryptic reply, and then unlock my door. I barely have a chance to set my purse down before she’s walking in circles around me, talking a mile a minute.

“I just broke up with Ben. Shit. Shit. I mean—it
just
happened. I went to see him, we got in a fight, I broke up with him, and then I drove straight here. And it took me a little while, you know? ‘Cause traffic and shit—and, fuck, now I don’t know if I did the right thing. Except—you know, I feel like it’s been a long time coming. Or—”

“Harper!” I shout, burying my fingers in my hair. She’s making me dizzy, and I can barely understand a thing she’s saying. “What. Happened?”

She stops and takes a deep breath. Then, next thing I know, she’s sitting in the middle of the floor, her face buried in her hands as she cries. I sigh and then do the only thing a good sister would do; I settle myself beside her and wrap her in my arms.

“He stopped making time for me,” she mutters, resting her head on my shoulder. “It wasn’t a big deal at first, but then he just kept missing out on big plans—like they weren’t important to him at all, except for if they were
his
plans. And I get it, you know? His work is important to him, and he’s trying to build his career, and now is a crucial time for him—but it’s a crucial time for us, too.”

“So, he didn’t agree?”

“No,” she sniffs. “He said he understood where I was coming from. He promised he would do better—but Teddy, this isn’t the first time we’ve talked about this.”

I furrow my brow, still a little confused. “So, he wanted to try again and you said no?”

“How many chances was I supposed to give him?” she asks, pulling away from me to look me in the eye. “How many times was I supposed to let him break his promises?”

Before I can answer, her phone rings. When she doesn’t move to answer it, I arch an eyebrow at her in question.

“It’s Ben. He’s called, like, ten times.”

For a full thirty seconds, I try and see things from Harper’s perspective. I try
really
hard—but all I see is a woman in love running away from a man she loves, and the man she loves fighting for her. I know she’s hurting, I can see it on her face and hear it in her voice; I’ll even go so far as to say that she has a valid point in arguing that she can’t give Ben an infinite amount of opportunities to disappoint her—but the man she loves has called,
like, ten times!

The man I love hasn’t called me once.

“I wish I had your problems.” The words fall out of my mouth before I think them through, and I can tell that hearing them catches her off guard—but I mean it. “If Jude called me just once—just
one
time—I’d take him back in a heartbeat. That’s how much I love him.” I shrug, swallowing the tears that are crawling their way up my throat. “Maybe it
was
stupid of you to break up with Ben. Or maybe…maybe he’s not your forever, like you thought.”

She stares at me contemplatively, and we sit in silence for what feels like a long time.

“I’m a hot head, aren’t I?” she asks, reaching up to dry her cheeks.

I cough out a laugh, reaching for her hand. “Harp, are you just now figuring this out about yourself?”

Her lips curl up into a half smile as she gives my fingers a squeeze. “I love him. I love him a lot.”

“Then maybe answer the phone next time.”

She scrunches her nose and shakes her head at me before standing to her feet.

“Tonight is officially girl’s night. He’s going to have to sweat it out. Maybe this’ll teach him a lesson. Maybe next time he won’t break his promises.”

“He’s going to call all night, isn’t he?”

As if right on cue, her phone starts to ring.

“Fuck.”

She pulls out her phone, I assume to answer; but when it goes silent, the screen turning black, I realize that she’s turned it off instead. She reaches her hand out to me, and wiggles her fingers.