One-way Ticket to More Trouble

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Clara walked into the office with a miniature marching band parading inside her skull. She'd bought a venti dark roast to drown the little bastards, but all it accomplished was make the drummers hyper. Bleary-eyed, she massaged her temples when Sophie's telltale click-click of Loubs-on-a-mission roused her. The eleven between Sophie's eyebrows told Clara this day was about to get interesting.

"What happened last night?" Sophie asked, one hand on her hip, the other drumming on Clara's desk.

"Good morning to you too," Clara croaked, but found herself instantly alert a second later. Had Sophie seen them last night? What did she know? Clara had a flashback to Dominic's hand on her thigh, his breath on her neck. She shook her head to clear it, but the images lingered there much like his scent on her body even after she'd scrubbed her skin raw.

"It would have been a good morning if one of my biggest clients wasn't about to take his business elsewhere," Sophie said in a clipped voice.

"What? Who?" Clara felt terrible, but hope surged inside her. Maybe this wasn't about Dominic after all.

"Who? Who? I see my error now. I sent an owl to discuss the expansion with Dominic last night," said Sophie, thumping her forehead. "Silly me."

"Sophie, I've gotten zero sleep, and I'm in the office on a Sunday. What are you talking about? The dinner went... fine." And we didn't talk about the expansion.

"I'm talking about the fact that he left a voicemail last night saying they were 'evaluating other options,'" she said with air quotes, "and that he thought we were 'phenomenal' but that it 'looked like' they were going with 'another firm.'"

"Okay, first off, easy on the air quotes," Clara said, pinning Sophie's arms down. Sophie huffed and tapped her foot like a bunny about to bounce off. "And second, he didn't mention anything last night," Clara offered, but the excuse felt bitter in her mouth. He'd said this would be the last time they'd see each other. This was what he'd meant. Unfortunately, Sophie had gotten caught in the middle of the mess that was their fates unraveling from one another.

"We're talking eight figures here, Clara. It would be game-changing for us," Sophie said, a pout working its way onto her lips.

"I know, but it's his decision to make."

"The hell it is. It ain't over till I'm fat and singing," Sophie said, fire blazing in her eyes.

Clara cleared her throat. "Close. I believe the phrase is: till the fat lady sings."

Sophie looked Clara up and down. "Since you're not singing, then, I guess we're still in the game?"

"Okay, Size-Zero-and-Mean. What do you want to do?" Just don't make me talk to Dominic.

"You need to talk to Dominic."

Clara sighed.

"For some reason, he responds well to you."

You have no idea. But Clara knew better than to argue. She also knew talking to him would accomplish nothing, but she could give Sophie the professional courtesy. "I'll give him a call."

"Book the next flight to London."

"Come again?"

"You need to go to London." She paused, tapping a manicured finger on her chin, then added, "I am coming with. You get us on the next flight, and I'll arrange dinner tonight. Don't book return yet, let's see how it goes."

"Sophie, I don't want to get your hopes up. I really don't think we can change his mind." And I would really, really like to not walk into the lion's den like a turkey dressed for Thanksgiving right after that near-miss last night.

Sophie held Clara's hand in her small ones. "Clara, my star, my beauty, my Michelangelo of sales. You're amazing at what you do, and I cannot do this without you." There was such shining pride and confidence in her eyes, that Clara found herself reluctantly nodding.

"Ah... Very well."

"That's the spirit!" Sophie clapped her hands and click-clicked off into the elevator already dialing Dominic's cell. "And don't worry," she called before the door closed, "you'll be back in time for your romantic trip."

Clara's head sank into her palms. She'd completely forgotten about the anniversary trip with Owen. Guilt coursed through her body at the lack of excitement she felt, and yet not even this guilt was enough to hold her thoughts there. Her mind swiftly returned to Dominic. The Scotch on his breath as he leaned into her, so, so close. She ran her fingers through her hair and stared out the window for a moment, replaying last night over and over again. How many more times were they going to cross paths before it was well and truly the last time, she wondered as she clicked purchase on her one-way ticket to London.


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