Him & I

I Can't Tell You Why

Nothing's wrong as far as I can see
We make it harder than it has to be
And I can't tell you why
No baby, I can't tell you why
I can't tell you why
Every time I try to walk away
Something makes me turn around and stay
And I can't tell you why
——I Can't Tell You Why, Eagles

Grayson grabbed a cab and headed uptown, trying to control his breathing. He wasn't sure who he was madder at; Cait, Dameon Roberts or himself.

He should have controlled his temper. But he'd known that he couldn't and that he had to get out of there before he punched that smug jackass in the face.

And he definitely had a few questions for that red-headed temptress that had been making him crazy pretty much since the day he came across her in a cold tub.  He closed his eyes.  How was it possible for one single person to simultaneously be his greatest source of comfort and his greatest source of stress? He didn't stop to realize that he might fill the same role for her.

Grayson was grateful that he got one of the cabbies that didn't talk much. There were two kinds; those that never uttered a word and those that didn't shut up. The second one might have put him over the edge right now.

*****

"You bastard," Cait snapped. "How dare you? I told you to mind your own business if you wanted to stay employed."

"I had no idea he'd be upset," Dameon feigned innocence. "You told me that he understood you."

"You had no right to come in here and meddle in my personal relationship," she gritted out, flame shooting from those emerald orbs of hers.

"Just like you had no right to come to London and lead me on," he returned. He was still having those visions of her on her knees. Begging him.

"I told you the reasons," she shot back. "No one made you look. If you'd behaved professionally, it wouldn't have mattered."

"Perhaps you should take your own advice," he said, looking down his nose at her. "Do you really believe that your behavior was professional? Dressing in clothes designed to catch my eye? Having your brother lie to me?"

"You really want to be fired, don't you," she said flatly. "That has to be what this is about."

What he really wanted was to argue with her again. To see those emerald eyes flash. To see that flush that stole over her cheeks when she got angry. So he continued to prod. "Fire me if you like, pet," he laughed. "But you'll have to explain the reasons to Daddy. Do you suppose he'd approve of you using your brother the way you did? Or of your methods in general?"

Cait settled for the only thing she could do at that moment. "Get out of my office," she barked. "Now."

Dameon got up from his seat on the couch, smirk firmly in place. "Lovely to catch up with you, Caitlin," he said as he walked to the door.

Cait sank down in a chair and put her hands over her face. And Margaret poked her head in. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked.

"Not really," Cait sighed.

"Grayson asked me to tell you that he'd be at the apartment," Margaret said quietly. She walked all the way in now and gently put a hand on Cait's shoulder.