Nineteen
Deciding simpler was better, I dipped my key card in the reader and slipped into the room in order to offer my apology.
“I’m sorry.”
Elliot was at the dresser, his back to me and the door, tossing clothes into the duffle bag on the bed. Every muscle in his back tensed up when I spoke. It was several long seconds before I saw him forcibly relax his shoulders.
“Hey, no reason to apologize,” he said with a patently false casual tone. “It’s not like we have something monogamous going here.”
“Please,” I wanted him to turn around, to look at me, “let me explain.”
He turned his head, looking half over his shoulder but not really seeing me. “I think you already made everything perfectly clear. Message received. My job here is done.”
“Job?” What was he talking about?
“You hired me
