Contracted

by Marni Mann

  The four of us certainly hadn’t planned on spending this much time with them, but we’d gotten along so well that no one seemed to be in a rush to end the night.

  “We’re not just going to do serious damage,” Brett said, scotch sloshing out of the top of his glass. “We’re going to dominate South Florida, LA, and Manhattan—all the major markets.”

  “Don’t set your sights so low,” Blake said. “We’re going to take over Atlanta, Vegas, and Denver, too. And then we’ll expand into London, Shanghai, and Dubai. We’ll call it The Agency and Management Worldwide.”

  “God, that’s fucking sexy,” Jack said.

  “It sure as hell is,” I agreed.

  Expansion meant more growth. More clients. More services that we could provide and therefore more revenue. And, with business exploding the way it was, especially in our music division, I saw the need for everything this partnership could provide.

  Now, I just needed more time to take on all the clients who wanted to sign with me. I was so booked out, I’d been passing them down to my team and then overseeing those agents to make sure they were giving our musicians everything they needed.

  I gave this job everything I fucking had.

  And that meant Eve had never gotten all of me.

  Goddamn it.

  As I looked up, Shane stood from the couch, grabbing one of the bottles off the table, enough glasses for all of us, and he filled each one halfway. Then, he handed them out to all of us and said, “To our future, together, as one big fucking company. The Agency and Management. Let’s fucking do this.”

  “To our future,” Scarlett said, “once the seven of us sign.”

  Always the voice of goddamn reason.

  “To our future once the seven of us sign,” Shane clarified. “And taking over the fucking agent and management world.”

  “Now, I like the sound of that,” Scarlett said.

  I raised my glass in the air, knowing more alcohol was the last thing I needed, and then I shot it down my throat. Whatever it was burned like hell as I swallowed, and I chased it with a beer that I’d found on the table.

  As I put both glasses down, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I quickly pulled it out and saw that it was a text from a client.

  Even through this haze of booze, I still felt the disappointment that it wasn’t Eve’s name on the screen.

  I’d texted her several other messages besides the ones I’d sent from our office, and she hadn’t responded to any of them. I’d even called her when we were on our way to the club, and she hadn’t answered.

  “Are you all right?” Scarlett asked, leaning into my side.

  I knew she was looking at my phone to see whom the message was from.

  I typed a quick reply and put my cell back in my pocket. “I haven’t heard from her.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  I shook my head. “No fucking idea.”

  “We’re flying out at nine tomorrow morning.” She looked at her Rolex. “And it’s almost midnight.”

  “Are you telling me I should get out of here and go to her place?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” She nodded toward the group. “At this point, it’s just alcohol-induced banter. You’re not going to miss anything.”

  If the boss was giving me permission to leave, I needed to fucking take it.

  I brushed a kiss over her cheek, and then I stood from the couch and said, “I’m out, guys.” I clasped hands with Brett and Jack. “I’ll see you two on the plane tomorrow.” Then, I man-hugged Jayson, Blake, and Shane. “It was real good to meet you three.”

  “You, too, man,” one of them said.

  “We’ll be seeing more of you very soon,” another one responded.

  “I don’t doubt it,” I replied, and I made my way to the front of the club.

  Our driver was parked along the side of the building, and when I reached his SUV, I pounded my fist against the glass to get his attention. He unlocked the door, and I got into the backseat and gave him Eve’s address.

  While he drove, I tried calling her again. After four rings, it went to her voice mail.

  I hoped to hell that just meant she was sleeping.

  I would find out that answer shortly because it didn’t take long for us to arrive at her place. The driver pulled up in front of her house and came to a stop.

  “Would you like me to wait for you?” he asked.

  “Nah. You can head back to the club. The others will need a ride soon.”

  I climbed out and went to the front door, taking out my set of keys to open it. Fortunately, she hadn’t changed the locks, and the key slid right in.

  Once I was inside, I flipped on the lights and saw how different everything looked. It was usually covered in clothes and shoes and all the other shit women wore. Now, the couch had been moved out, everything had been organized into racks and built-ins, and the room had been transformed into a goddamn closet.

  It was a sign that she wasn’t going to be living here for the next six months.

  One that made me fucking crazy.

  I continued into the hallway, trying to be quiet as I entered her bedroom. I wasn’t more than a few steps in when I saw that her bed was empty. I checked her bathroom, but I knew before I even turned on the light that she wasn’t in there.

  Fuck.

  With no place to sit in the living room, I decided that getting in bed was the only option. So, I ditched my clothes and climbed under the covers.

  I tried calling her one last time, and all I got was her voice mail. I followed that with a text that asked where she was. I knew I wouldn’t get a response, so I dragged her pillow across the bed and buried my face in it.

  It smelled just like her.

  Oranges and fall fucking leaves.

  Goddamn it, I just wanted to talk to her, to be in her presence, to graze my fingers across the softness of her skin.

  But she wasn’t giving me that chance.

  She’d completely shut me out, and I had no way to reach her.

  I put my phone down right next to me, and I closed my eyes.

  I wasn’t sure when I had fallen asleep, but a loud beeping noise woke me. My lids popped open, and I saw that it was my cell. I grabbed it off the mattress and turned off my alarm, and then I looked across the bed.

  The spot next to me was empty.

  I sighed, dragging my ass out of the covers, and went into the bathroom to take a piss and brush my teeth. When I came out, I got dressed and checked all the rooms to make sure she wasn’t sleeping in one of them.

  Of course she fucking wasn’t.

  So, I called the company the partners and I used to transport us around LA and told them I needed a ride to the airport, and then I went into the kitchen. I found a piece of paper and a pen, and I sat down to write her a note.

  I waited for you all night.

  I wish you had come home.

  All I wanted was to talk to you, to see you one last time before you left for Italy.

  Baby, don’t do this—to me, to us.

  You know how much I care about you.

  Call me.

  —Max

  Twenty-Six

  Eve

  Exactly twenty days had passed since I accepted Alberto’s offer. During that time, I’d gotten Trevor comfortable with all of his responsibilities, we’d established a schedule of how often we’d be video-conferencing and the logistics of those meetings, and we’d converted my house into the office where he’d work. I’d also met with each of my clients and explained our new process. I’d still be styling them; the only difference was that Trevor would deliver the clothes that I chose, and he’d be conducting the fittings.

  Professionally, everything was coming together perfectly. All the items I had shipped to Italy—my clothes, cosmetics, and things I needed for work—had arrived and were waiting for me in my apartment. And, as long as the internet connection was strong in Milan, like Alberto had promised it would be, I’
d be able to run my business seamlessly.

  But, personally, my life was a fucking disaster.

  After I’d left Max at the soft opening, I’d checked into a hotel, and I hadn’t returned home until I knew he was on his plane, flying out of California.

  I couldn’t see him.

  I just wasn’t strong enough for that.

  If I were in his presence again, the love I had for him would control my words, my actions, and I knew I wouldn’t be as strong the second time around.

  I couldn’t take that risk.

  Because, if I gave in, if I let him touch my body or sweet-talk me, nothing would change between us.

  I would still want more.

  He would still deny me of it.

  And I would end up leaving for Italy even more upset than I already was.

  So, I didn’t answer his phone calls, and I didn’t return his texts.

  But I listened to every voice mail he’d left, and I read every message he’d sent. Even though they wrecked my emotions, they made me feel close to him. They warmed the emptiness I felt inside my chest. They kept me from having an emotional breakdown as the realization of what our future looked like really took shape in my mind.

  And then, three days ago, I hadn’t been able to control myself.

  I just got home after working a sixteen-hour day. I was completely exhausted. I went straight to the fridge and poured myself an extra-large glass of wine, and I brought it over to the table and sat down.

  The first thing my eyes landed on was the note Max had left.

  I’d read it before.

  In fact, I knew every word by heart.

  So much so that I could close my eyes and see the straightness of his letters, the spots where he had pushed a little harder with the pen.

  And, while I read it again, I sipped from my glass, each line sending me another memory.

  Ones that had his hands on my body.

  Ones that had his mouth on my pussy.

  Ones that had his dick thrusting inside me.

  God, that fucking cock.

  When the glass was empty and my hand was no longer holding it, my fingers began to crawl down the front of me where they unbuttoned my pants and dived under my panties.

  I was already wet.

  Swollen.

  Ready for the friction, I hoped it would give my body the release I needed.

  Each movement of my hand caused the scene in my head to shift. I wasn’t just thinking of Max. I was seeing him. I was feeling him. I was watching him drop two fingers down my folds and insert them inside me while he pressed his palm against my clit.

  My head fell back, rounding the top of the chair.

  My mouth opened, a moan falling through my lips.

  He was relentlessly plunging those fingers, and it felt so good.

  I was so turned on, so ready, that I could hear him slide through my wetness.

  And I could see it on his cock because, as I looked down, he was now using his dick to drive in and out of me. He pumped hard, fast, deep, his hand grinding my clit so that the build would immediately come.

  I groaned his name, squeezing the side of the chair as leverage as the intensity completely took over my body.

  His mouth was on my neck. His breath was panting over my face.

  He was using all the strength he had to pound out our orgasms, and I screamed in response.

  As I hit the peak, my stomach shuddered, and my limbs turned numb. I stopped breathing, and every nerve began to pulse, the sensation of sparks moving through me.

  It took me a while to calm. When I did, my eyes flicked open.

  That was when I saw my real surroundings.

  I was sitting at my kitchen table with Max’s note in front of me and my fingers buried deep inside me.

  But I wished it had been him.

  In the haze that I found myself in, I had a moment of weakness, and I decided to give him one more chance.

  So, I found my phone, and I called the airline that I was taking to Italy. When the customer service representative asked what she could help me with, I told her I wanted to change my flights.

  I loved this man, and I needed to tell him.

  And I was about to get the opportunity because, now, I was sitting in the back of an SUV after having just landed at the Miami airport, and I was on my way to Max’s house.

  I hadn’t told him I was coming, and I still hadn’t replied to any of his messages.

  The only reason I knew he was in town was because I’d had James do a little snooping.

  There was a chance he wouldn’t be home or that he wouldn’t return until really late tonight.

  I didn’t care.

  I just needed to talk to him, to get these things off my chest before I got on the plane to Italy. Saying it to his face was the only way to do it, and I believed surprising him was the best approach.

  When the SUV pulled up to the side of Max’s gate, I said to the driver, “You can let me off here.”

  “Would you like me to wait?” he asked.

  “No need, but thank you.”

  I handed him a cash tip and went up to the call box, pressing the buttons that would open the gate. Once there was enough space for me to slip through, I made my way up the driveway and over to the back door where there was a keypad. I entered my six-digit code and walked inside.

  I got as far as the entrance to the kitchen, and that was when I heard Max’s voice.

  “Are you sure about this?” he said.

  There was no way he knew I was here; therefore, I knew he wasn’t speaking to me.

  “Yes, Max,” I heard a woman say.

  Hearing her made my feet halt, the blood slowly draining from my face.

  In the last two years, I’d never known Max to have a woman at his house.

  So, what is she doing here? At almost eight o’clock at night?

  And who the hell is she?

  My hands started to shake as I made my way to the back side of the kitchen. The flats I wore were silent as I stepped across the hardwood floor. I didn’t even take a breath until I reached the last row of cabinets, gripping the edge of the counter as I peered into the living room.

  The sight before me almost had the two glasses of wine I’d sipped on the plane come purging out of my mouth.

  And it took everything I had not to make a sound.

  Max was on the couch, his legs extended and crossed over the ottoman. One arm was spread across the back of the cushions while the other was bent with his cheek resting on his hand. He had a grin on his face.

  A grin I’d thought he reserved only for me.

  But I was wrong.

  Because someone else was causing him to smile that way.

  That someone was sitting directly next to him with her body facing his.

  And that someone was Kristin fucking Evans.

  His ex.

  “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” she said. “I just didn’t have the courage.”

  “What changed?” he asked.

  I was squeezing the counter so hard; I was sure every nail was going to break off.

  “You,” she said. “After we hung out at the bar in LA the night of James’s premiere, I started planning my future, and it all centered around you.”

  The night of James’s premiere?

  But he had met me that night at the after-party.

  Except he had been late.

  Extremely fucking late, and I’d wondered what had taken him so long to arrive.

  Now, I knew that answer.

  And, on top of their little date at the bar, he’d had dinner with her in Miami.

  All while we’d been together.

  Two occasions he’d conveniently forgotten to tell me about.

  Because he must have had something to hide.

  I was definitely going to be sick.

  Oh God, I hadn’t thought my heart could hurt worse than the night I had broken up with him.

  I’d been so wrong.
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  I hated myself for not talking to him about Kristin. I’d been such an emotional mess over our relationship, stressing about the things he wasn’t willing to give me, that I’d never confronted him about the dinner James had told me about.

  Yet I’d had every opportunity to do so.

  Not that it mattered anymore. It was clear what was going on between them.

  Even more so now that Max’s smile had grown larger, and he was laughing at Kristin’s last statement.

  My body turned even tighter, my stomach churning as I watched the two of them.

  Part of me wanted to scream in his face.

  The other part wanted to fall on his kitchen floor and cry.

  But, if I walked into that living room the way I wanted to, calling him a piece of shit and the most disgusting man on the fucking planet, it would make me look like a jealous, psycho bitch. Because, technically, he had every right to do what he was doing.

  I’d ended our relationship. I hadn’t answered any of his calls. I hadn’t responded to his texts.

  He had moved on.

  I just couldn’t believe it had happened so soon.

  And I couldn’t believe he had chosen to do it with her.

  Seeing the way she looked at him made my skin crawl.

  But seeing the way he looked at her was torture.

  The ache that filled my body was unbearable.

  I couldn’t watch this.

  Not for another second.

  So, I turned around and quietly walked through his kitchen. I went out the back door and down his driveway. Once I made it through his gate, I moved past the opening and to the side of the concrete fence and took a seat on the grass.

  With my phone in my hand, I ordered a car to come pick me up. Since my flight to Italy wasn’t until tomorrow evening, I needed somewhere to stay, so I found a hotel by the airport and booked a room for the night.

  When I’d changed my flight, I never thought I’d have to do any of this. I’d pictured Max and me talking through the night, finding my way into his arms, having sex until the moment I had to leave. I’d assumed I would use all of his cosmetics, so I hadn’t brought any of my own, and I’d wear the clothes I’d put in my bag.