Chapter 39 DEREK

Chapter 39 DEREK
The purse was exactly where she’d left it — on the low ledge near the far corner of the rooftop, half-hidden by a potted plant. I grabbed it, its small weight familiar in my hand, and headed for the elevator. Turning the purse in my hands, I opened it and inspected the contents — phone, Kleenex, money. Nothing interesting. I snapped it shut before exiting the car when the doors opened on the ground floor.

I didn’t make it three steps before a familiar voice cut across the hall.

“Spencer. I’ll be damned.”

Marcus leaned against the wall by the elevator banks, hands in his pockets, wearing that same shit-eating grin he kept reserved for me.

“You said you weren’t coming,” he said, pushing off the wall. “In fact, I distinctly remember you saying — and I quote — ‘I’d rather stick a fork in my eye than sit through that circus.’”

“Plans changed,” I said stiffly.

“Clearly.” His eyes dropped to the clutch in my hand, then back up. “And you’re playing errand boy now? Never thought I’d see the day.”

I eyed him with a frown, pushing past him on the way outside. Now, you’d think with all his supposed talent for reading social cues — he was the face of the company for a reason — he’d read the room and leave me be, but no. He followed, walking in step with me, that annoying smirk still on his face.

“This have anything to do with the pretty girl you walked out with earlier?”

I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him, a menacing look on my face. Marcus, the little fucker, did not even bat an eye at my expression.

“You know she’s your brother’s fiance right?” He pressed.

“What would you know about that?” I asked silkily. “The lady was in distress. I was simply helping her out.

Marcus looked at me like I was full of shit — I probably was anyway. But he’d known me for far too long — since high school and later as my partner — to fall for my evasions. Usually, he’d pretend and let me be, but today, he’d decided to play the devil’s advocate.

“Yeah, right. That’s why you have her purse,” he said, cocking his eyebrows.

“She forgot it, you dofus!” I said, at my wits' end. “I’m simply bringing it to her. Don’t you have someone else to bother? Where’s Margaret?” I asked after his girlfriend-slash-regular fuck buddy.

“She caught a stomach bug this morning, so she didn’t come. And you’re changing the subject,” he continued harping, undeterred.

I pinned him with that look — the one I gave the board members when they were unreasonable.

Marcus clapped me on the shoulder, still grinning. Did he ever stop?

“Whatever, man. Good to see you actually show your face for once. We should meet up before you disappear again without a word. There’s much to discuss.”

“That’s why there’s such a thing as Zoom,” I called out after him. “So I don’t have to be blinded all the time by that pretty smile.”

“Whatever,” he waved me off, walking back into the ballroom, where a few party stragglers remained chatting.

I smiled, continuing on my walk. Marcus hated being reminded of his pretty-boy-modeling days, and as his friend, it was my sole duty to make sure he never forgot them.

The truck was empty when I got there.

I stood with the door open longer than I needed to, as if I was waiting for her to materialize. She’d said she was tired, so where could she have gone?

‘Maybe she’s gone with her fiance. You know, the one she’s actually engaged to.’

I shook that pesky thought off. Not gonna lie, hearing Chloe claim me as her fiance earlier felt hella good, which was weird because I’d never really understood the obsession with marriage. People shackled themselves to one person for life, then spent half that life finding ways around the shackles. What then was the point?

She wasn’t in the parking lot or the ballroom — or anywhere remotely close to the hotel, and after searching for a while, I began to feel a tiny bit of irritation.

If she had indeed gone off with Jason, why hadn’t she bothered to let me know? In whatever way.

I checked the side of the building, deciding to ask the small cluster of people still hanging around near the entrance if they’d seen her — before I left.

“White pantsuit? Yeah. Saw her head that way a few minutes ago,” one of them said, pointing towards the path that led to the beach.

I followed the sound of the bonfire, sand shifting under my feet and finding its way into my shoes. The large fire burning in the middle of the beach threw long shadows across the groups scattered near the water. I scanned the edges first — where someone who knew almost no one here would be — and found her almost immediately, the white of her outfit a direct contrast to the shadows where she clung to, watching the crowd.

I started towards her, and stopped.

Her face was turned towards the fire, and there was just something about her posture that felt off. Whatever she was watching had her locked in place.

I followed the line of her gaze and felt a myriad of emotions wash over me. Something that felt suspiciously like elation… and then a coldness settling in my chest.

Stancy. And my idiot of a brother, standing in the middle of a spin-the-bottle circle while everyone chanted for them to kiss…

My eyes shifted back to her, watching the sheer despair on her face as she watched Stancy step in close to her fiance. My feet started moving, before I stopped myself in my tracks.

What was I doing? Of course I wanted her to see the man — the real man she was getting married to, and not whatever polished version she’d been sold. But… the pain passing across her face absolutely gutted me.

Perhaps it was because I had a wonderful time with her earlier at the pub, or maybe she was growing on me.

Shaking my head roughly, I dismissed the thought as soon as it entered my mind. I did not have the time for complications right now. Especially one named Chloe.

Speaking of which, she turned suddenly, so fast she almost slipped, and started moving, head down, not bothering to look where she was going. I closed the distance, approaching on the opposite side, until she ran straight into me.

“Where’ve you been, Chloe?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

I did not know the exact moment I decided to pretend, but I just thought she may not have wanted a witness to her breakdown — much less me. Or not…

I felt the hitch in her breath just before the tears came. Pulling her close, I wrapped my arms around her until the tears finally slowed.

“Who upset you, sweetheart?” I asked, softly, taking her face into my hands.

She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.” I pulled her back into my arms until the worst of her sobbing had passed.

Then she lifted her head and rose on her toes. I saw the intent in her gaze before she reached up and wrapped her arms around me. Everything in me screamed to meet her halfway — to tilt my head and finally take what I’d wanted for far too long.

But no. Not like this.

Not while her face was still wet from crying over another man.

When Chloe did kiss me — and make no mistake, she would — I’d be the only man on her mind, and not her rebound.

And as much as it pained me to, I turned my head at the last second. Her lips landed against the corner of my mouth — soft and warm.

She froze.

I felt the exact moment the rejection registered… because she pulled herself out of my arms.

Shit!