For the rest of the week, Carly was a level of professional I’d rarely seen in my life. She was efficient, she was composed, and she was never closer to us than she had to be.
Fine with me. The starker the line dividing us from our fling—regardless of how fun it was—the better.
Diego and I spent the weekend the way we usually did. Spending time with Eloise, enjoying each other’s company, and unwinding. Two things made this weekend different from any other…
The number of times Eloise asked when Carly would be back. Each time, I gave her the same answer: Carly didn’t live here, she was only visiting, so she probably wouldn’t be back. And each time, Eloise would frown and say okay, and I would feel like the worst dad in the world for breaking her heart.
And the two calls, one on Saturday and one on Sunday, from Curtis. They sounded like friendly calls. Both of them along the lines of I just wanted to check on you. See if you’ve made any decisions about changing directions. And both times I told him Of course we haven’t.
Monday morning, as I finished cleaning up her breakfast dishes, she ran from the kitchen and into her playroom. A moment later she was back.
“Daddy, I made this.” Eloise handed me a slightly humanoid-looking collection of green Legos.
I took it from her with all the care an original Eloise creation deserved. “It’s fantastic. Does it have a story?”
“Not yet. You have to give it to Carly, and she can tell the alien’s story.”
“Okay.”
Eloise scowled. “Promise you’ll give it to Carly.”
I tucked it into my shirt pocket and patted it gently. There was no way I was going to tell her no. “I promise I’ll give it to Carly and ask her for the alien’s story.” And I had at least a little while to figure out what kind of response would be least likely to break Eloise’s heart if Carly didn’t want it.
The notion sent a spike of anger and hurt through me, and I suppressed the reaction.
Diego and I made sure Eloise was set for the day with Ariana, and headed to the church.
Carly was already waiting, sitting at the table, typing away on the tablet she carried everywhere on the job site. Seeing her there, hair pulled into a messy bun, loose strands teasing her neck, and I had a flashback to last week. Taking her… Sharing her with Diego… Feeling her tight, slick heat wrapped around me…
The memory was better than coffee to get my pulse racing first thing, and far worse if I wanted to get anything done today.
She looked up as we approached, and her smile was the same cool one she’d used at the end of last week. “Happy Monday, gentlemen. Ready to continue your drive for world conquest?”
“One restaurant at a time.” I was also ready to ignore the background noise and do business.
Carly’s gaze landed on my chest, and heat raced over me.
“Is that a pocket full of toys, or are you just happy to see me?” she winced the instant the words passed her lips.
I raised my brows. “Yes. I have a pectoral erection.”
“Pec-rection?” Diego laughed. “Is that a thing?”
This was going to get ridiculous and quickly. I pulled the alien out and handed it to Carly. “Eloise made you a present. She says you need to tell the alien’s story.”
Carly’s smile went from sad to warm to professional all in the amount of time it took her to grasp the mini figurine. “Tell her thank you, and that I will share their story as soon as they share it with me.” She set it next to her tablet with the utmost care.
“Hey, we have a problem. Boss wants to talk to you.” A new voice cut through the fun. One of the work crew stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen.
We followed him in a neat little train, through the demolished kitchen, and out to the back alley. A pallet of boxes waited for us, with one of them set aside and open.
When I saw the flash of almost neon blue glinting in the morning sun, I knew what was wrong before anyone said anything. “That’s not the right tile.” For anything. Anywhere in my life. “Where did this come from?”
“It’s what was delivered,” the contractor said.
“Stand by. We’ll figure out what’s going on.” Diego looked as frustrated as I felt.
He and I started making calls, tracking along the supply chain. Carly watched and listened and muttered about wishing she spoke better Italian.
I finally got someone on the line who had more answers for me than Nothing’s changed. We shipped what we were told.
“We were told the request changed. I got the information from Ms. Hammond’s assistant,” he told me in Italian, with the confidence of a man who knew he’d done nothing wrong.
Carly’s assistant? “Ms. Hammond doesn’t have an assistant.” Did she? I covered the mouthpiece. “Do you have an assistant?” I whispered to Carly.
She frowned and shook her head.
“What was the name of the person you talked to?” I returned to the phone call.
“He didn’t give it. But I can tell you he was American and didn’t speak the language nearly as well as he thought.”
What? That would make sense, if the call came from The Raphael Group, but I’d never talked to anyone there who even pretended to speak Italian, and they wouldn’t have made this request without telling Carly. Without telling us. “We need the tile we originally ordered.”
“Can’t do it. The original is a high demand design. The instant the order was canceled, someone else snatched it up.”
My frustration soared. This was going to cost us time. Money. “We can’t use what we were sent.”
“You can pay the restocking fee and we can send you something else in return.”
Fuck. “I need to talk to my designer and builder. One of us will give you a call back. Don’t make any more changes to our account unless you hear from myself or Diego.”
“Your euros.” He hung up.
I wanted desperately to let the man know what I thought of his flippant attitude, but not until we had what we needed from him. I gave Carly and Diego a brief rundown of the conversation.
As I explained, Carly went pale, and when I finished, realization sank in. It was insane, but I had to ask. “Would Curtis do something like this?”
She worked her jaw. “I’d love to say no, but fuck. He might. When I left him, he told my boss the divorce was because I’d been sleeping with her husband. He’d never even met the man. He’s not above being petty, and he doesn’t care who gets huts, unless he’s changed.”
Something told me he hadn’t. “Would he have sent that email last week? The one that looked like it was from you that almost got my kitchen destroyed?”
The creases around her eyes and mouth deepened. “Fuck. Maybe. I’d love to say he wouldn’t go that far, but… he would. I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t on you, it’s on him.” Diego’s words echoed my thoughts. “Besides, we told him no too, so this could be about us.”
Christ, what an immature asshole. We’d figure out what to do about Curtis after we fixed the current issue though. “What do we do about the tile?”
Diego had his phone out again. “I’ll call the supplier back and find out what they have in stock that meets our requirements and that we can get enough of within the next week.”
“I’ll call Curtis.” Carly looked furious.
I’d love to make that call myself, but it might end in death threats. “Are we sending the work crew home?”
“We have to,” Carly said. “There’s nothing else they can do today. But we’ll figure out how we can rearrange the schedule once we have the tile answer.” She sighed loudly. “We accounted for delays and mistakes. They always happen. We have money and time in the budget as long as we’re smart about how we handle this.”
That didn’t reassure me as much as she probably wanted it to, but I was grateful she could say the words and sound sincere.
Diego and Carly made their calls, and I sent the work crew home. I promised the contractor we’d have more information for him by the end of the day, and he promised me we’d still be paying for their wasted time.
Wonderful. Not.
When it was just the three of us left, Carly, Diego, and I sat at that same table again. The memories of the other night were back, and I wasn’t in the mood. That didn’t stop the images of Carly, the whispers across my skin, from tormenting me.
The reminder brought back that little nagging part of me that I’d been trying to ignore for days. The part that agreed with Diego that Carly could be a great longer-term fixture in our lives.
I shoved the feeling aside in favor of getting work done.
Carly hadn’t been able to get a hold of Curtis, but Diego had new tile options for us. He forwarded them to Carly, and she pulled them up on her iPad, so we could all gather around and make a decision.
The decision we made was that they all sucked.
“Alternatives. Let’s discuss them,” Carly said.
I wanted the original tile I’d picked for my kitchen. “I saw an entire subway station floor once that was tiled with centissimo.”
“I feel like that might be more expensive than actual tile.” Diego wrinkled his nose.
Carly jabbed at her screen, and pulled up a new picture. It was impossible to determine why she was showing us computer parts until she said, “My brother has a friend whose bathroom is tiled with circuit boards.”
“That sounds really cool.” Diego twisted his head this way and that.
It kind of did, and my family had access to that kind of hardware. But this wasn’t the right place for that look. Also, “That sounds really nerdy.”
“Nerdy can be sexy.” The way Carly tossed out the reply, without thought, with a playful smile… That was sexy.
“I can be nerdy.” My answer came easily. Smoothly.
Diego smirked and shook his head. “Possibly not the way Carly is thinking.”
“Ooh, idea.” Carly’s face lit up. “If Curtis is so infatuated with proving… I don’t know. Whatever. We could tile it with his—”
“Don’t say his entrails.” I didn’t know where my suggestion came from, but I was filled with both horror and justice at the concept.
The disgust and horror that crossed Carly’s face was reasonable, but not as potent as I expected. “Eww.” She wrinkled her nose. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I told you not to say that.” I wasn’t the bad guy here.
She stuck out her tongue. “I was going to say we could tile it with his and my divorce papers. Eww. Seriously.”
“She’s right. There’s something wrong with you.” Diego’s tone was playful rather than accusatory.
And it wasn’t as though I was suggesting doing that. I was saying the opposite. “Wrong with me in all the right ways.”
Diego grinned. “I can’t argue that.”
Carly huffed, but her smile was peeking through. She opened her mouth.
“I hoped I’d find you both here.” That was Isabella’s voice, not Carly’s.
My blood ran cold as our ex-wife walked into the room, and my entire world was yanked out from under me.