Page 89 of Power
He could never understand why women were so obsessed with their looks. Yes, his wife had been pretty, but it was her warmth, her personality that had first attracted him to her.
Beauty was eye-catching, but substance mattered more. He’d wanted the whole package, beauty, brains, and backbone. Something strong enough to last a lifetime.
Nothing lasts forever.
She was studying him so hard, he wondered if he’d said something out loud. “Why are you here?”
“To offer my condolences.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
He could lie or he could come clean and tell her Teddy had put a tracker on her vehicle when she’d been stalking him. If they were going to work together, he had to fess up… but was now the right time?
Wait.
“I didn’t think you should be alone,” he said. “Your grief is so raw.”
“Can I get you something to drink?” She went to squeeze past him, but he was blocking her way.
He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek, replacing his hand with his lips. Then, another light kiss on her other cheek. Her musky smell drew him in. “Let’s sit.”
He stepped out of the doorway and waited for her to lead the way. To his surprise, she curled her fingers around his bicep, walked into her kitchen. There, she opened a pastry box and stared at the contents.
Inside were four pieces of cake, all different.
“Frederica brought these over.” Sad eyes peered up at him. “We shared two. She was coming back tonight and we were going to eat two more. That was the plan.” More tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.
With a light touch, he brushed away the streaks with his thumb. “Tell me about your friend.”
“Do you want coffee?”
He clasped her hands in his. “Simone, I’m here for you. Just you.”
A little smile tipped one side of her mouth. “But I came here to be alone.”
“I’ll go, if you want.”
His comment was met with silence.
Don’t send me away.
“You can stay,” she whispered.
“How ‘bout I make us coffee?”
“You know how?”
Appreciating her sense of humor, he smiled. “You can walk me through it.”
While he made coffee—without instruction—she eased onto a counter chair, rested her head on her arms. Her hair flowed over the Quartz and he paused to appreciate her. But his heart broke for her loss. Turning away, he pulled two mugs, a plain white one and one with the words, BADASS BABE.
When the coffee finished brewing, he filled the mugs, sat beside her. She lifted her head. Grief-stricken eyes met his. Then, she spied the mug and choked back a sob.
“That was a gift from Frederica.”
Feeling compelled to comfort her, he caressed her back. “How did you meet?”
“We used to work together.”
