Pierce throws back the rest of his champagne, quickly pouring another glass. “Are you sure you don’t want some of this?”
Waving him off, I say, “I’m fine.”
Another long pause. “There’s never going to be a morning I wake up and don’t regret not doing more on that flight from Omaha to Chicago. Or wish I didn’t call you sooner,” he says sadly.
Tears well. I want to hide them, but it’s impossible. “A time may come where I wake up every morning wishing you had, too.”
The rest of the ride is quiet. I sip slowly on water while Pierce downs almost a whole bottle of champagne. If it has any effect on his abilities, he doesn’t show it as he helps me out of the plane and into the waiting car.
This is the first time I’ve ever flown somewhere for just a few hours. We’ll meet with Wade then hop right back on this plane.
“Is he going to like the penthouses?” I ask, needing something to break through the silence.
“I love the penthouses.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Who gives a fuck about Wade’s opinion?”
I sigh, staring down at my watch. “You’re drunk. We should get something to eat quick before we head off to the meeting.”
He laughs loudly. “I’m not that drunk, but if you’re inviting me to lunch I won’t refuse.”
I’d yell at him, but this is my fault, too. I ask the driver to drop us off at a sandwich shop near Wade’s office. Maybe if I can just get a little food in him and buy some time, we’ll get through this. If I put an inebriated Pierce anywhere near Wade, one of them is bound to die from manual strangulation.
“The Carnegie Deli for lunch?” he asks, shaking his head. “This might be the only meal we get while we’re in town.”
“It’s the only thing we have time for. The meeting starts in less than an hour.”
“It’s okay to be late to a meeting every once in a while, Ms. Fields.”
I snort. “Yes, I’m sure that will make him appreciate my penthouse designs even more.”
After picking up two sandwiches and water, we find a place to sit.
“There’s something different about you today,” Pierce remarks as he takes his seat. “Did you color your hair or something?”
I shake my head, taking a careful bite of my sandwich. Plain turkey shouldn’t upset my stomach too much. Pierce is too freaking smart even when he’s had too much to drink. My hair hasn’t changed, but my breasts are swelling more and more every hour.
His eyes slant. Sooner or later, he’s going to figure it out. Lila likes to drink. She likes to wear pencil skirts that hug her tight from her stomach to her knees. Pregnant Lila isn’t going to be able to hide for long.
“How’s your sandwich?” I ask, just pulling pieces of bread from mine. The meat is not sitting well.
“It’s sobering me up if that’s what you were trying to do.” He grins, but the cocky look quickly disappears.
My skin clams up as my stomach goes from mildly nauseated to a full turn. Without a word, I run to the bathroom, barely finding an open stall before losing the little bit of food I ate. Sweat rolls down my forehead. I rip a handful of toilet paper to wipe it away, making sure the nausea settles down before I stand back up.
After fixing my make-up and quickly brushing my teeth, I rejoin Pierce who eyes me cautiously from across the table. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks after a seconds long staring contest.
“I’m just nervous about my presentation this afternoon,” I lie.
“He’s going to eat it up.” The way he looks at me tells me he isn’t sold. He’s never an easy sell.
I nod, doing my best to look anywhere but at the uneaten food on the table. “Should we get going?”
“We can walk if that’s okay with you. He’s only a couple blocks from here.”
“Some fresh air would probably be good … as fresh as you can get in New York, anyway.”
Pierce picks up my portfolio and tucks it under his arm. He’s defined asshole, but he’s also defined gentleman.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about him?” Pierce asks, tucking his free hand in his pocket.
“That would be a little weird, don’t you think?”
“I just don’t like seeing you like this again.”
“Thank you for caring, but we need to draw a line somewhere in our friendship. He’s off limits.”
We step into the elevator. Just the two of us. Instead of standing beside me, he stands in front of me, swiping his thumb under my eye. “You missed some mascara.”
“You don’t have to be so nice to me,” I say, trying to avoid looking right at him. Two minutes before a meeting is not a good time to cry.
“I don’t know any other way to be with you.”
The elevator door opens before I can say anything more.
We quietly walk down the hall and into the empty conference room. I take a seat and pull my phone out, partly to avoid talking to Pierce, but mainly to see if Blake has been trying to get ahold of me.
Nothing, so I take the initiative.
Lila: I’m in NYC. Didn’t get a chance to tell you.
It shows as read right away, but he doesn’t type a response. Maybe he’s relieved to have me gone. Tonight, I’ll go home to an empty apartment, and we’ll start our old cycle all over again. Only this time, I’m not going to let him spin me in circles. This isn’t a game; this is life … my life.
Wade walks in, all smiles. “Good to see the two of you again.”
“I’m hoping it will be the last time for a while,” Pierce chides, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He sobers up well.
“I guess that depends what you have for me.”
I clear my throat and stand, making my way to the revised board. My stomach churns, but it’s hard to say whether it’s nerves or hormones. “I redid the penthouses … a few times actually. I think what I’ve come up with will appeal to most wealthy travelers while still keeping a sense of fun.”
I pause unintentionally, my whole mind freezing up. There’s too many personal things weighing on it for me to even pretend that this matters to me today. “I gave the rooms a rustic-modern feel. Rustic furniture with clean lines as well as all the modern amenities people have come to expect.”
I step to the side to give him a better look. He takes in every detail, face expressionless. My whole future hangs in the balance.
“Explain to me why we’d have wood planks around the fireplace instead of tile or rock.”
I swallow hard. “It fits into the lobby and gives the room a rustic feel. I even thought it would be great if we did wood-burning fireplaces instead of gas. Room attendants could help when a guest wants a fire.”
“We’re not putting together a proposal for Vail or Aspen, Ms. Fields.”
My eyes well with tears. Hurt feelings and hormones are not a good combo. My stomach churns like it did earlier in the plane. “Excuse me,” I say, running out of the room, disappearing into the same bathroom I sought refuge in last time we were here.
This time, I lock the door to ensure no one visits unexpectedly. It’s only then that I take a few deep breaths. The same thoughts repeat over and over in my head: Wade hates my designs. I’m going to be a mom. Wade hates my designs. I’m going to be a mom.
My phone dings in my purse.
Blake: When will you be back?
I debate if I should answer him or just leave him wondering. He leaves me wondering a lot, but I still want him. We tend to always crave what’s worst for us.
Lila: Late tonight.
Several seconds pass.
Blake: We need to talk.
Lila: I tried to last night.