open she let out a huge sigh of relief.
‘You ready?’ she asked, and turned to him, the tension of a few moments ago only slightly abated.
He refused to think about what the remainder of that tension meant.
‘I think so.’
‘Then let’s do this.’
* * *
‘Dance with me.’
Callie turned to Blake and had her refusal ready when she saw he had the same look on his face as that afternoon when he’d kissed her.
But he didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he took her glass and placed it with his own on the closest waiter’s tray. Then he led her to the dance floor and pulled her in close. Every nerve in her body was awakened and prickled with awareness at the feel of him against her. His hand pressed against her naked lower back and sent shivers down her spine, and when she looked up at him her breath caught.
He looked at her with longing, with a sadness she hadn’t expected. But she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about all that had plagued them over the last few days. No, tonight she wanted to stand in the middle of the dance floor on the rooftop, under the moonlight, and sway to the music with the man she loved.
‘Callie?’
She lifted her head and the illusion of a few moments ago was gone. And it had taken any thoughts she had about love with it.
‘What is it?’
He looked at her, his eyes filled with an emotion she knew only too well.
‘We need to talk.’
She clenched her jaw as a voice in her head told her that she wasn’t being paranoid. She stiffened in his arms and looked at him, trying to read him even though it pained her to do so. And what she saw gave her the answer to all the questions she’d had.
‘You’re leaving.’
His arms tightened around her, and she had to stop herself from pulling away from him.
‘Callie—’
‘Don’t.’ She didn’t look at him, and was grateful when the song ended. ‘Just don’t.’
She wanted to hate him for it—for doing this to her after making her feel like a princess. After making her fall in love with him. But she forced all feelings aside and worked the room, pretending everything was normal.
She clapped along with everybody else when Blake walked up onto the stage to thank everyone for coming, and laughed jovially when he told them he looked forward to taking their money the following week. But when the formalities were done she couldn’t take it any more. She slipped away to Connor, and asked him if he could wrap things up for her.
‘Yeah, sure. Things shouldn’t go on too long anyway.’ He looked at her, and then frowned. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ She brushed a kiss over his cheek. ‘Thanks. I’ve spoken to all the investors, so I know they’re happy with the event. You just need to facilitate the clean-up afterwards. I’ll see you soon, okay?’
She didn’t wait for his response, though she could tell that his gaze was on her as she walked away from the event. She didn’t look back as she took the stairs in her evening gown, too distressed to take a chance on the elevator. They had pulled it off, she thought, and immediately felt grief at the use of ‘they’ for her and Blake. There would be no more of that, she knew.
She laid a hand on the railing of the staircase, bracing herself for support, and took a moment—just one—to close her eyes and soothe her aching heart. But she knew that soothing wouldn’t be possible—not when her pain could only be compared to what she’d felt after her parents had died. But still she stood, rubbing a hand over her chest, as though doing that would make a difference somehow.
The look on Blake’s face flashed through her eyes—the look that had told her all she needed to know about the awkwardness between them over the last few days—and another wave of grief rushed through her.
But instead of giving herself another moment, she hurried back to the room she had got ready in to change and get her things. Before she changed she looked in the mirror for one last time, wondering who the woman who looked back at her was. That woman looked so glamorous she might be royalty—nothing like the broken woman Callie knew really stood there. The one who was using every last bit of her strength to keep standing, not to fall into a heap on the floor and cry until she couldn’t think about him any more.
Until she couldn’t feel the pain that sliced through her at every memory of him.
She carefully took off the necklace and the shoes, placing them back into their boxes, and peeled the dress from her skin. When she was done she laid the dress bag over her arm and took the boxes in one hand, her own things in the other. She struggled out through the door and smiled her thanks when Tom, one of the bellboys, offered to help her.
She’d just handed over her things and asked him to call her a taxi when she heard Blake’s voice.
‘Callie—wait. Callie!’ he said, more loudly when she didn’t stop. ‘I’ve been looking for you all over. We need to talk.’
She gestured for Tom to go ahead, and stiffened her spine when she saw Blake walking towards her even as the pain crushed through her chest.
‘I’m on my way home. I was going to put this in your office with a note for Caroline. Actually, I think I’ll do that now.’
She walked past him to his office, silently thanking Kate for getting her a room on the ground floor, so that she didn’t have to get into an elevator again. She opened the door and laid the things gently over the desk Connor had put up for Blake, and turned when she heard the door slam.
‘Let me explain,’ he said, tension in every part of his body.
‘Explain what?’
‘Why I’m leaving.’
‘So you are leaving.’ She nodded as her heart broke, but coated it with anger. ‘I thought you were just going to let me assume something was wrong, like you’ve been doing for the last few days.’
‘I’m sorry. But—’
‘I don’t want to hear it, Blake.’
‘Callie, I think the least you can do is let me explain myself.’
His tone was testy now, and she felt anger clutch at her.
‘Why, Blake? Why should I let you explain yourself? You’ve been pushing me away for days. You’ve lied to me. And now you’re leaving. So give me one reason why I shouldn’t walk out of here right now and forget about whatever we had?’
‘Because we care about each other. At least I care about you.’ His hands were on his hips; his face was fierce. ‘I care enough that I’m leaving because it’s what’s best for you.’
‘What’s best for me?’ she repeated, almost shocked at
