Page 114 of Timelessly Ours
But I don’t have time to dwell on the hurt and rejection I’m feeling over that one little word that makes all this an entirely different scenario for me. Because I’m reminded of the reason I’m here when Royce starts his pitch to Jeff.
I’m to “distract” the wife.
“You’ve been tough to get a hold of lately, Jeff. I was hoping we could catch up this evening on some thoughts I have on the team.”
When I see Jeff hesitate and search for an escape, I take my cue.
“That really is a lovely dress, Marisa. Blue is definitely your color.”
Instantly, she releases her husband’s arm and turns to me. “Ugh, thank you, Jeffrey insists I wear team colors to these things.”
“Well, it's a good thing we're not orange."
I chat her up, laying on the charm, which she seems to appreciate. My bartending ears are trained to hear multiple conversations, so I wait for Royce to deliver his thoughts to Jeffrey before I even consider wrapping up awkwardly with Marisa.
Just when I start to relax standing at his side, I catch sight of Claire Collins as she tosses a hug to her equally tall daughter, Angel, across the room.
I stiffen. My stomach churns and I’m reminded of the permanent fixture in his life.
While I’m...just his date tonight.
“Are you alright? You look pale,” Marisa asks.
Royce allows Jeff to finish his thought before turning to me. His brows twitch and he glances around us, pausing when he looks in the direction his ex-wife is standing.
“It might be time for that drink and some food. Would you excuse us?” Royce says to the couple.
“Certainly.” Jeff nods. “But I’m interested in what we were discussing. I'll stop by this week.”
"Look forward to it." He lets them stroll away before zeroing in on me. “Are you alright?”
Is he seriously playing dumb? “Your ex-wife just walked in.”
His eyes stay on mine, like he’s waiting for more. So I give it to him. “Maybe you should let her know that I’m only your date for tonight too. Wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”
I spin and quietly walk toward one of the many double-door entrances, hoping one of them leads to the ladies room.
Or, you know…any black hole I can crawl into.
He doesn’t follow me—at least not in a way that I can tell. When I exit one of the doors, I scan the halls both ways, looking for the lesser of the crowd, and head in that direction.
This whole thing was foolish of me.
Foolish to think we could be more than physical, more than just tonight, or last night, or the past few weeks.
I find a quiet carpeted corridor around the back of the main hall. It must be close to the staff rooms since I only see full uniform personnel bustling through doors and moving about at top speed.
“Hi, is there a restroom I can use here?”
“Third door on the left, dear,” a woman calls back, barely looking at me as she rushes toward one of the halls, carrying a tray of cocktails.
I’m about to push through that last wooden door in the dark, narrow hallway when a hand catches my arm and spins me.
Royce gazes at me with fire in his eyes. Not anger, not embarrassment for running off on him. But with pure heat.
And the tiniest hint of a smirk, like he’s just won a game he hoped I’d lose.
Without a word, he flips me around to face the wall and I gasp.