Chapter Thirty-Four

                                    

                                          
Chapter Thirty-Four
Megan
Stares. Whispers. More stares.
I march down the monochromatic halls of W Industries. My face is a blank mask. Like I'm not at all concerned by the critical eyes and hushed voices sweeping down my back.
The employees greet me with smiles, which is surprising when I've only ever been here twice. The whole time, these people were either busy ogling their boss, or getting a heart attack at the sight of their boss. Their focused attention on me is a bit bizarre, somehow.
As if I'm a moving artwork in an exhibit, and they are compelled to look for meaning in every little move I make.
My palms grow cold as I reach Wade's office. Remi looks up from her laptop when I approach. "Good morning, Mrs. Simon." I almost stumble on my heels at her cheerful greeting. Is that relief on her face? "Mr. Simon is on the phone, but you're welcome to come in, of course."
Shit, I inwardly cuss, my gut somersaulting with every step I take. "Thank you, Remi."
I haven't given much thought about what will go down today. The only reason I came was because of his text. It arrived before dawn, hours before I was supposed to wake up. But one loud ping had me reaching for my phone, half-expecting it was him. And when I read his name, my pathetic blood-pumping organ nearly vacated my chest.
My pride wouldn't allow me to celebrate it at first, that he was asking for me like I wanted him to. His approach was lackluster at best. I didn't expect him to grovel, but if there was a word less than 'bare minimum', it would perfectly describe his no-nonsense order.
'I need you to come to my office. It's about your project.′
Not even a 'hi' or 'hello'. This asshole. I shouldn't be happy at the merest idea that he reached out to me, but I am.
And now I'm one second away from seeing him only because of that one cold text.
Therapy. I must call for Dr. Lionheart's help before this gets progressively worse.
Wade—all dark and brooding—comes to sight as the door slides open. His icy stare digs a hole through my head as the deep timbre of his voice embraces my ears. "Make sure of it. Of course. I need the email tonight. Okay. Bye."
His presence immediately soothes all the tight muscles under my skin. Almost three weeks of no contact made me believe that Wade wasn't in my realm anymore. Like he never really existed and all of it was just a bad dream. But I'm here. He's here. I fight the overwhelming urge to run into his arm.
Wade presses the intercom as the door closes behind me. "No calls. No visitors."
His beautiful set of aquamarine traces a sensual path down my body and I can't help but also have my fill.
His face is stoic as usual. I could carve a rough idea of his mood before, no matter how impassive he presented himself to me. But this time, it's void of anything. Unreadable.
The ends of his hair are sticking out in every direction like he ran his fingers through it many times. His callused hands are lying flat on his stomach while his left ankle is resting on his right knee. He's wearing a black dress shirt under his equally dark suit jacket and his pants are the color of midnight.
They fit really well on his body. Tailor-made just for him. The man is still as gorgeous as ever. As if what happened between us didn't lose him some sleep.
"Long time no see, wife," he says in a low tone.
Five simple words yet they can light up small fires in my body as if touched by the rough pads of his fingers.