She should really make an effort to lift her head, but that seemed like too much work.
“Why did you break up?”
“He thinks I’m out to screw up the Delco case, and I think he doesn’t take me seriously as a journalist.”
“You broke up overwork?”Markson dug into the peanut bowl sitting on the table and popped one in his mouth. “Trust me, Reese, no job is worth losing the person you love.”
If that could explain the sensation of a dull knife scraping away at her heart, maybe he was right.
“You do love him, don’t you?”
It took her less than a second to answer. She did love him. He was loving, kind, sexy, everything she could ask for in a man. She wailed, “Yes!”
The martini sloshing through her bloodstream kept her from being embarrassed at the sheer volume of that forlorn wail. But Markson didn’t even blink.
Instead he leaned closer, gaze meeting hers from behind his horn-rims. “Then go fix it. If you love him, it’s worth it, Reese.”
She wanted to believe he was right. But Reese wished along with his other gems of advice, Markson knew exactly how she was supposed to fix it, because she did not have a clue.
Derek jostledhis duffel bag and adjusted his grip on his suitcase with wheels. He knocked on Maddock’s door with way more force than was necessary, but he had a ton of frustration to release.
Maddock answered the door in a pair of jeans and no shirt, hair sticking up on end. Derek thought maybe he’d interrupted a nap or something. “Hey, Wyatt, sorry to bother you, but do you think I could share your room?”
He cleared his throat and fought the pain that clamped around his heart and squeezed. Reese had made her choice and there was nothing to do but move on. “Reese kicked me out.”
Maddock darted a quick glance behind him. “Oh, hey, Knight, I’m sorry. And you know normally I’d let you bunk with me, no problem, but right now I sort of have some company.” He raised his eyebrows up and down, a slight grin crossing his mouth.
Derek saw a blonde wearing a robe coming towards the door. “Is that the wine, Wyatt?”
She had a local accent and a deep beach tan and Derek was annoyed. Reese had looked luscious and beautiful that first night he’d met her, when she had been wearing nothing but a terry cloth robe.
Now Wyatt was having a good time and he had nothing but an empty bed and his job, which wasn’t going to keep him warm at night, that’s for damn sure.
“Jesus, sorry, Wyatt. Never mind.” He started to back up, but the blonde gave him a friendly smile as she draped herself across Wyatt’s back.
“Hello, are you a friend of Wyatt’s? Are you a computer programmer as well?”
Derek said hello, shooting Maddock a questioning look. What the hell was this woman talking about?
“Sheila, this is Derek Knight and he works with me. He’s here for the programming conference too.”
Derek tried not to snort as he shook Sheila’s hand. It made sense that Maddock couldn’t go around the hotel blabbing that he was with the FBI, but leave it to him to make up some BSstory, and to find a woman to spend the night with less than twenty-four hours after arriving in Auckland.
Of course, it had been that way with him and Reese. An instant attraction. An instinctive knowledge that they were meant to be together. His heart twisted painfully. Dammit. Everything reminded him of her and how much he was going to miss her.
When they started exchanging lascivious glances and Sheila’s fingernails starting marching across Maddock’s chest, he knew it was time to get the hell out of there. “Nice to meet you, Sheila. I’ll catch you later, Wyatt.”
Still hauling his luggage, he went down the hall and to the elevator. It looked like he’d have to book himself a room. Hopefully, they would have some available.
Crossing the lobby, he saw Markson. Ignoring him, since they weren’t supposed to know each other, he started to approach the front desk.
A hand touched his arm and he glanced over at Markson, startled. He said in a polite tone, “Can I help you?”
Markson didn’t even try to play along. “Derek, I need to talk to you about Reese.”
He sighed. “Stan, not here.”
“But you need to know that Reese is in the lounge right now, crying into a martini. She loves you and she’s hurting.” Stan gestured towards the lounge. “You need to get in there and make up with her, Derek, or you’re both going to regret it.”