by S. M. Soto
“Asshole, indeed.”
My eyes widen, and I jerk to a halt, stumbling on my heels. I whirl around at the sound of the deep voice, and all the color drains from my face. A man, dressed in another expensive suit—real shocker—is standing there, a crooked grin on his face, hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks.
“I-I didn’t mean that… I’m so sorry, it just sort of slipped.”
The stranger laughs, and I’m struck by how pretty his smile is. It’s all Southern charm. I know it’s odd, saying a man has a pretty smile instead of a handsome one, but this man, he’s beautiful in a strange sort of way. And the way he’s staring down at me at the moment? It has me shifting on these heels, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
“Tends to happen when you’re around Callan Reed. Don’t worry, darlin’. I can’t stand him ninety-nine percent of the time either.”
The man’s voice is flavored with a Southern drawl. There’s a rogue-ish glint in his green eyes. His hair is a wild mess of long, golden blond locks. He looks as though a cowboy and a surfer had a love child together.
“I take it you two don’t get along?”
He smiles again, something flashing in his eyes. “Can’t stand each other, actually. It’s been this way since college. Competing firms. Competing every year for the Architects Award. Callan Reed wins at everything, doesn’t he?”
He takes a step toward me.
My heart skips. Everything about this guy makes me feel off-kilter. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t been near another man other than Callan since Dean passed.
“Sensing some rivalry.” I quirk a brow.
“Plenty. After a man sleeps with your wife, you hold a grudge.”
I’m taken aback.
My mouth drops open in dismay, and my stomach sours at this news. Callan slept with this man’s wife. What the hell? I mean, I knew he was always a dick and had no morals, but messing with a marriage? That’s low, even for him.
I shake my head. “Wow, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“Don’t apologize on his behalf, darlin’. He’ll get what’s coming to him eventually. But now I’m curious about you.” He grins, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall in such a casual pose it almost makes me smile. “What’s a sweet little thing like you doing working here and for Callan Reed, no less?”
“I needed a job, and he pays well.”
He chuckles, and in the process, two deep dimples make themselves visible in his cheeks. “Oh, I bet he does. Just be careful with him. He might be easy on the eyes for women like you, but his heart is ice.”
I scoff. “Believe me, I will. I learned my lesson years ago when it comes to Callan.”
His brow quirks, genuinely interested. “You knew him before working here?”
Embarrassment tints my cheeks. “Oh, yeah. We, uh, we lived next door to each other back in California. His sister is my best friend, actually.”
A slow smirk spreads across his face, like gasoline on a fire. It’s as though hearing this information is an arsenal he’s been looking for.
“Mrs. Fletcher, is there a reason you’re standing around chatting when you’re supposed to be working?”
I whip around at the sound of Callan’s sharp voice. His gaze darts back and forth between me and the strange man, who I realize I’ve still yet to learn his name. Callan’s eyes are narrowed into thin slits, and he doesn’t look happy. Then again, he never does.
“Right, sorry. I was—”
“She was just indulging me in conversation, Cal. Cut the woman some slack.”
The muscle in his jaw locks, obviously not appreciating the man’s two cents. “Care to join the meeting, Beau, or will you be standing around, talking to my assistant all afternoon?”
“Can I? I’m finding I like talking to her a hell of a lot better than you. She’s also much more fun to look at.”
“Get to work!” Callan barks at me.
“You’ll be a welcome face around here. Glad I ran into you.” Beau smiles before following Callan into the conference room.
That was strange with a side of even stranger.
Heading back to my office, I finish the rest of my work for the day, even going as far as working on tomorrow’s agenda, so I won’t have to worry about it. My desk phone rings, and when I see the name flashing on the screen, I heave a deep sigh.
“Yes, Mr. Reed?”
“I need your assistance in the conference room.”
The line ends.
No please.
No pleasantries.
Such an asshole.
Saving my work, I head back the way I just came, and when I step into the boardroom, I feel everyone’s eyes on me. Callan crooks his finger, and I make my way to his side, doing my best to ignore the curious glances and blatant staring. He hands me an iPad.
“Find a seat somewhere far down the table and take notes.”
Forcing a nod, I take the lone seat at the other end of the long cherrywood table. Their discussion begins again, and I write down anything that sounds important. I can feel eyes on me, and when I glance up, I realize it’s Beau. He won’t stop watching me or smirking at me. It’s as if he knows he’s getting under my skin. I begin to fidget, not used to having so much attention focused solely on me.
“Mrs. Fletcher.” Callan sighs. “Is there a problem?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then please stop acting like an antsy child and sit still.”
My gaze narrows.
My hands ball into fists on the table.
Callan raises a single brow in challenge, and I realize he wants me to snap back at him. That’s exactly what he’s anticipating. All the more reason to get rid of me, right? I don’t think so, asshole.
I force myself to stop fidgeting, and instead, I keep typing away, following along. Sneaking another glance at Beau, my stomach dips when I realize he’s still watching me, and he shoots me a playful wink.
“As we discussed the terms in our last meeting, I will be the rightful holder. I’ve typed out a written agreement, read it over, and if you all agree with the terms, we can move forward with the project.”
There are some murmurs and nods, and slowly, everyone glances my way. My brows pull down, and I shoot Callan a questioning glance.
“Whenever my assistant decides to wake up, she’ll bring each of you the contract, won’t she?” He cocks a brow. Realization dawns, and I shoot up from the seat.
“Oh. Yes. I’ll get right on that.”
I scurry into the copying room to make copies of the agreement, something I thought I did earlier, but as it turns out, I’m not the greatest assistant, and it’s definitely showing. I tap my foot impatiently, waiting for the last few pages to spit out before hurrying back down the hall, teetering in these heels.
Bursting back into the conference room, I slide the agreements across the table, in front of each of them. In my haste, I don’t pay attention to where I’m reaching, and I accidentally knock over an open water bottle, spilling water everywhere.
Who the hell leaves the cap off their water bottle when they’re not drinking it?
The man curses, I gasp, and I swear I hear Callan growl.
Panicking, I try to mop up the water with the agreement, using it as a paper towel, but in doing so, I cause more water to splash onto the man’s suit and pants. He shoots away from the table, swiping angrily at his suit.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. Let me get you some napkins, or I’ll find a towel.”
“I think you’ve done enough.”
I freeze at Callan’s cold tone. I look over my shoulder, my heart panging against my sternum. There’s nothing but disappointment and displeasure reflecting back at me.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. It’s just water.” Beau winks at me, but I don’t find anything about this amusing.
With trembling hands, I drop the rest of the papers on the table and excuse myself. I hurry into my office and shut the door behind me. I sag aga
inst the wood, pressure burning behind my eyelids.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
I don’t know how long I sit there, frustrated with myself and with Rose for even recommending I take this job. Gathering documents, I stuff everything into file folders, mumbling incoherently to myself. I throw open my office door, envisioning tossing all the files at Callan’s stupid face. I imagine the outrage that would most certainly be there.
“Mrs. Fletcher.”
My eyes slam shut, and I freeze at the sound of his voice. It’s like I conjured the bastard with my thoughts.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I turn, gritting my back teeth. “My job.”
“Oh?” His brows jump into his hairline. “Now you want to do your job?”
“I was doing my job earlier. Sure, I messed up, but I apologized. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so busy ogling Beau, this wouldn’t have happened.”
My eyes widen, and I jerk back, shocked by the accusation. “I was not ogling him. He had a conversation with me before the meeting, and that was it.”
“Right.” He rolls his eyes.
“Leave him out of this, would you? From what he’s told me, he has every reason to hate you.”
Callan’s eyes shoot to mine, flashing with rage. “Stay away from him.”
There he goes, with more of those goddamn demands again.
“Or what?”
“Or you’re fired.”
With those harsh words, he leaves me staring after him, fuming.
It’s the end of the workday, and I’m just finishing up in my office when there’s a knock on the door. After the day I’ve had, I let out a weary sigh, expecting it to be Callan here with more demands. Or here to tell me who I can and can’t look at. But I’m pleasantly surprised when I see who it is.
“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” My smile only brightens when I spot Rose and Damon walk into my office with Faith curled in his arms.
“Just thought we’d stop in. After work, I went to drop off some dinner for you and Faith, but I noticed you were still here, so I let the nanny off early and thought we could all eat dinner here while you finish up work.”
Moisture builds behind my eyelids. “Thank you, guys.”
We get settled around my office and begin digging into the takeout. With Faith resting against my chest, I listen to both of them prattle on about their day while I’m still thinking about mine.
“What is all the ruckus?” Callan suddenly barks, barging into my office. He jerks to a halt over the threshold, a glare already painted on his face. Surprise lights his features when he sees who’s surrounding me, his head lightly sloped in confusion.
“Brother. Who knew you were such a joy to be around here at the office?”
Callan rolls his eyes, not obliging his sister.
Our gazes meet, and something sparks in my chest, something I try to tamp down. I glance away from Callan, ignoring the weight of his gaze, and instead, focusing all my attention on sweet Faith and my best friend.
Damon sparks up a conversation with Callan, and even though I try to avoid him, I can feel his gaze on me. On us, every so often. His presence clouds the space of my small office, making it feel stuffy.
“You okay?” Rose asks, a crease forming between her brows as she regards me.
“What?” I shake my head, plastering a fake smile on my face. “Yeah, of course. It’s just…today has been a long day.”
As if sensing what I mean, Rose shoots a glare in her brother’s direction.
“There something you want to say to me, Rosalind?”
Callan cocks a brow at his little sister, and being the spitfire she is, she crosses her arms over her chest and shoots him a glare that would eviscerate most men.
“Actually, yes, Cal. I’d like to make a note to everyone here in your office that you’re an asshole. Why can’t you just leave her alone?”
I nudge Rosalind on her arm, hissing under my breath for her to let it go. Callan shoots a glare my way, as though I’m the one who put his sister up to this.
Without glancing away from me, Callan rips a hole through my chest. “If she can’t handle working here, she might want to find a job elsewhere.”
I deflate as soon as he’s gone, and I share a look with Rose.
Past
“Stop pouting. I just did your makeup.”
I heave a sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe how screwed up everything is.”
It’s been two weeks since the incident with Dean and me in the hall. Which also means it’s been another two painful weeks of seeing Skylar and Callan together. Sure, I haven’t caught them making out or showing any kind of PDA yet, but seeing them together, his arm around her, is just as bad.
I haven’t spoken to him since the levy. I’m disappointed that I allowed myself to think there might be anything between us but disdain. What I felt when he kissed me, what I felt when I saw those pictures of me. I felt like he was seeing me. But that’s just a lie.
He’s a coward—a damn coward—and I hate him.
“He cares about you.”
I scoff. “Obviously not enough.”
“Screw them, okay? We’re going to prom together, and that’s all that matters.”
Guilt presses against my chest. “I’m sorry you had to cancel with Ryan for me.”
She waves me off. “We’ll still take pictures together, but I won’t let you walk in there alone. Especially since you already have on this beautiful dress and purchased your tickets. You’re going to walk in there, with me on your arm, your head held high because you don’t need a man.”
I look down at the dress in question. She’s not wrong. It is beautiful. When Dean asked me to prom, my mom surprised me with it. It’s a strapless champagne color that hugs my curves. I curled my hair, and with Rose’s expertise in makeup, I look great. I just wish I felt great, too.
There’s suddenly a knock on my door, and my mom pops her head inside.
“Someone’s here to see you.” She smiles, and my stomach dips. Idly, I wonder if Callan’s here to apologize. I share a look with Rose, and she waggles her brows.
“Told you he’d come to his senses.”
Swallowing down my nerves, I hurry out of the room, running my hand over my perfectly curled hair. I skid to a halt in the living room when I see who it is. The happiness I suddenly felt billowing in my chest dissipates.
“Hey,” Dean says, looking unsure for once. He has a corsage and is dressed in a tux, his tie the same color as my gown, just like we’d discussed before all this mess happened.
“We’ll leave you guys to it,” my parents mutter, obviously sensing the tension between us.
I didn’t tell them the details of what happened, or more accurately, what led to our breakup. All I mentioned was that things didn’t work out, and we just weren’t together anymore. Obviously, my mom questioned me, but I didn’t feel like getting into it or rehashing the pain that was still a living, breathing entity in my chest. I think she sensed something bigger was happening, especially since I was avoiding speaking to Skylar, let alone even looking at her.
“What are you doing here?” My voice shakes. I close the distance between us and feel his gaze rake up and down my body. There’s an appreciation in his eyes as he takes in my appearance.
“I thought we could still go together. I know I said some stuff that wasn’t great, but… I love you, Daisy. I don’t care about any of that other shit. I just want you, okay?”
My chest tightens with emotion. Why does it feel good, knowing at least one person wants me? Even if it’s not the person I wish it were coming from, I hold on to this feeling. “And what about Callan?” I ask, hating the way his name tastes in my mouth.
“What about him? He’s going with Skylar. You’ll go with me. Things can go back to normal.”
I reach out for the couch, anything to stable me, so I don’t topple over. “What
do you mean? What are you talking about?”
I don’t know if I imagine it, but I swear his eyes glint. “You didn’t know? Callan asked Skylar to go with him so he wouldn’t have to go alone.”
An icy pain travels through my chest, spearing the organ, making it hard to pull in a single breath. “Oh. Right. Yeah. That makes sense.”
Dean steps into me and wraps his hand behind my neck, forcing me to look up at him.
“What do you say? Let’s put it all behind us and move forward? Just you and me, Daisy.”
A tear leaks down my cheek, ruining my makeup, and Dean grins, swiping it away, thinking it’s there for other reasons. The truth is, it’s because my heart is broken.
“Okay,” I whisper.
With a kiss to my lips, it feels like a seal of both of our fates.
I try to enjoy prom as much as I can, but all I can do is sneak glances at Callan and Skylar. Rose tried to get my mind off it, but it’s impossible. I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t even think.
Who knew this would hurt so much?
After Dean showed up, Rose gave Ryan a call and told him they were back on. I plastered the fakest of smiles on my face for pictures and through dinner. Before I left, my mom hugged me a little tighter than usual. It was as though she knew exactly what was happening, even without me having to tell her.
Dean’s grip around my waist tightens, drawing my attention back to him. “What’s on your mind?” he asks, peering down at me. His pale skin gleams under the fluorescent lights as we glide slowly across the dance floor.
I force another smile. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
He gazes down at me, and I feel like he’s searching my gaze for answers. “Are you having fun?”
I nod, unable to voice the lie.
He tightens his hold around me, pulling my body against his, and presses a kiss to my lips. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine.
“I know things have been a mess between us, but I got you something.”
I pull away slightly, brows raised in question. “You did? What is it?”
Dean smiles. “I got a hotel room we can go to later, but only if you want.” He’s quick to add, “We don’t have to do anything, but you deserve a great night. Even if we just sit and do nothing.”