Arrest (A Disarm Novel) by June Gray

Author:June Gray [Gray, June]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

PART FOUR

POSSESS

1

I leaned back in my first-class seat and closed my eyes, feeling the waves of emotion crash over me. I didn’t know how people did it day in and day out, leaving their spouses for temporary duty assignments or work trips, but somehow I thought it would be easier than this. I didn’t expect to be overcome with guilt, didn’t expect to want to throw up and hold back tears and pace the aisles all at once. When I’d suggested some time apart, I’d expected to feel a little pressure lift off my chest; instead I felt crushed under the weight even more.

“You feeling okay?” Conor asked after the plane had taken off. He placed a hand over mine on top of the armrest. “You afraid of flying?”

I stared down at our hands as beads of sweat sprouted on my forehead. “No, just a little under the weather,” I said, slipping my hand out from under his.

“Nerves? About the pitch?”

I nodded, realizing how close Conor and I really were, how the only thing separating us was a few inches of metal and foam. Yes I was nervous, but not about the presentation. “I’ve never done this before.”

Conor’s green eyes watched me awhile, unnerving me to the core. “Don’t worry,” he finally said. “You’ll do great.”

—

We landed in Atlanta at two in the afternoon. I felt instantly better the moment we stepped off the plane, like I could finally breathe again.

Conor and I took a taxi to the hotel and checked into our own rooms, our doors separated only by the hallway. I set my luggage down and looked around at the king-sized bed and the modern furniture, feeling an overwhelming sadness engulf me. It reminded me of the same room I’d seduced Henry in a long time ago before he’d flown to Korea, back when I’d had something to prove.

The room phone rang. “Hey, you hungry?” Conor asked without preamble.

“Yeah, actually.” It occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning. I’d been too anxious to even bother with food.

“Meet me downstairs in the conference room in fifteen minutes,” he said. “I’ll have lunch delivered and we can go over the presentation.”

After hanging up, I washed my face with cold water and tied my hair up into a haphazard bun. “This is just work,” I told my tense reflection in the mirror. “Conor is here for work and work only.”

I grabbed my portfolio and laptop and headed downstairs, my sense of purpose returning with each step. We were here to win the Lombart account from three other design companies and nothing more.

The conference room was a fairly large space on the first floor of the hotel; it held approximately twenty rolling chairs that surrounded a long table. Seated at the head was Conor, his laptop and several other electronic gadgets laid out in front of him.

“Ah,” he said, flashing me a wide, carefree smile. “Just in time. I need you to look at this file Kari just sent and make sure everything’s perfect.

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