by K. Bromberg
“Why are you wavering in backing the company?” I ask.
“Because of him.” Robert lifts his chin toward where Zane was standing but doesn’t mention him by name. I don’t say anything because I suddenly feel uncomfortable. “He tells me he believes in the power of the SoulM8 platform and it’s worked for him. He tells me that he believes love is more important in someone’s life than money . . . but he’s also a salesman. And he comes off like a player. How can I trust that he’s not just telling me what I want to hear so I write a check?”
“Robert . . .”
“Sylvie could see through bullshit a mile away. Me? I’m more trusting and . . .”
Zane’s words echo in my ears. Love’s a stupid emotion fabricated to define relationships.
Everything Robert is saying is correct, and yet I can’t bring myself to tell him otherwise.
And then an idea hits me. What if I could protect Robert, put the self-righteous Arrogant Aussie in his place, and do something for myself?
You have to take opportunities when they present themselves.
I think you’re going to regret giving me that advice, Zane.
“Robert! How are you getting along?” Zane’s voice booms behind me as his hand comes in and slaps him on the back.
“Great, thank you.”
“Harlow,” Zane says, but I don’t miss the way his gaze travels up and down the length of my body before landing on my eyes.
“Zane,” I say with a nod and an overly saccharin smile as I prepare myself to make my move. “I was speaking to Robert here and was just about to tell him the good news.”
“Good news?” Warning flashes in his emerald eyes and I ignore everything about it.
“Yes. About how you’ve hired me to be the face of SoulM8’s ad campaign. I’m going to be the spokesperson.”
Where everything about Robert’s face lights up, every part of Zane’s stills and rejects my revelation without voicing it. “You what?” he finally says after he takes a long pull on the drink in his hand.
“I told him the good news!” Zane stiffens when I reach out to squeeze his arm to show Robert some familiarity between the two of us. “I was so surprised and excited when you told me earlier that you’d selected me that I was still processing it all. And then of course I met Robert and we were talking about how out of all the finalists here, he felt he could relate to me the best so I thought it was the perfect time to tell him. What better way to put my communications degree and my modeling experience to use?”
“What better way indeed . . .” Zane says with a clenched jaw, eyes boring into mine while he plasters a smile onto his face.
IS SHE FUCKING KIDDING ME, right now?
All those visions I had of those heels being dug into my ass while we were having sex get thrown out the window.
“Robert?” Harlow says as she looks at Robert with those doe eyes and parted lips. “You’re not saying anything. Should I be worried that—”
“Not at all.” Robert looks from me to Harlow and then breaks out with a broad smile. “This is some of the best news I’ve heard in a while.”
Wait. What? He’s okay with this?
But Simone. I told Simone she all but had the job.
“You’ll be the perfect face of SoulM8, Harlow,” Robert says, making me shake my head like I’m in shock.
Roll with it Z. Fucking roll with it.
But something is wrong. I can see it in his face. In the way he keeps glancing at Harlow like there’s something more he needs to say, and I hate being the one on the fucking outside looking in.
“Then I guess we should tell him the other news too.” What am I saying?
“The other news?” They both say in unison and turn to look at me. I find the tiniest bit of satisfaction in the fact that Harlow looks worried.
She should be because I’m about to boost her ass right off this campaign just as quickly as she jumped on it . . . all the while fixing the problem I created.
I give her a soft smile before stepping closer to her, my eyes back on Robert’s. “We were afraid to mention it,” I bluff. “She’s right. I originally chose Harlow as my spokesperson months ago, and then lo and behold, when I went online and used SoulM8 as you suggested, it matched us together.”
Harlow’s eyes bug out of her gorgeous face. Two can play at this game, sweetheart.
“Is that so?” Robert asks, head swiveling from me to her and then back, skepticism in his eyes I don’t want to see.
“I know it’s hard to believe . . . but we talked online for a bit during the beta testing phase—both using avatars—and so you can imagine our surprise when we found out that we were who we were when we met face to face.” I step closer, pull Harlow into me, and press a kiss to her temple.
“It was quite a surprise,” she says, playing perfectly into the hand she has no idea will be dealt. “I thought I’d sign-up for an early look at the site and see what the whole thing was about. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this would happen.” She slides her arm around me and turns to smile softly at me.
“When you told me earlier, Zane . . . I was skeptical that you were telling the truth. I . . . Harlow, my apologies for the things I—”
“Don’t apologize for your honesty,” Harlow says. “When I found out who the man I’d been talking with was, I had many of the same concerns you do.” She looks up at me and although her smile is sweet, her eyes fire off a warning to me that’s as confusing as the exchange between the two of them. She looks back to Robert. “But I have to tell you, the more I’ve gotten to know him, the more those concerns have dissipated.”
“Is that so?” Robert asks, clearly more at ease than when we spoke earlier this evening.
“It is,” Harlow says.
“I feel like an outsider here,” I joke, hating being in the dark.
“It’s nothing that concerns you,” Harlow says with a reassuring nod to Robert that makes me all the more curious, but allows me to take the lead here.
You’re run was good, Harlow . . . now it’s time to end it.
“What does concern me though is the appearance of impropriety, Robert and that’s the last thing I want just before a huge promotional launch for the platform. Harlow and I have talked here,” I say, “and decided that it’s best if I use someone else for the spokesperson position.”
Harlow’s body stiffens beside me and her fingers dig into my side.
How does it feel to be blindsided?
“Zane—”
“Hold on sweetheart.” I press a chaste kiss to her lips to shut her up and hate that I notice how soft they are. “It’s important for me to know that Robert knows we weren’t trying to pull one over on him. The beginning of months of a relationship are important—or so I’ve heard—and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize what we have by bringing work into the mix. Nor would I want there to be the appearance of impropriety to any of our sponsors. With that in mind, I had my lawyer prepare a new contract for Simone to take the job and with your blessing, mate, I’ll let her know tonight.”
Harlow tenses again. There’s nothing she can say, really. Argue with me and Robert will know she lied to begin with or stand by silently and smile so it appears she’s in agreement and save face.
She may be gutsy but something tells me she’s not going to call me on this.
Robert purses his lips and looks at the both of us above the rim of his drink as he takes a sip. Someone laughs to the left of us. I fleetingly catch the curious eye of Simone over his shoulder but know I can’t do anything to answer the question in her eyes.
“This is where I have to disagree with you, Zane,” Robert says. Oh. Shit. “I think having a real life couple, the CEO and his girlfriend no less, would come across as way more genuine than a pretty face and a talking head at the press junkets.”
Harlow stands taller and laughs as she reaches out and touches Robert’s arm again. “I’m hoping I shouldn’t take offense to that, Robert.”
“
My dear, Harlow . . . no one would ever deny how gorgeous you are. Forgive me if I made you feel otherwise.” Robert meets my eyes. “Experience sells well so long as it’s believable.” He lifts an eyebrow in challenge to me and I can’t tell if it’s sincere or if he knows I’m lying.
Either way, I’m fucked.
And not the good kind of fucked either.
“Everyone says the honeymoon phase of a relationship is the most important. I wouldn’t want to risk ours since—”
“Oh Zane, don’t be silly.” Harlow lays it on thick and leans up to peck a kiss on my cheek. Anger has me wanting to jerk away from her, my impending demise—and my cock—has me noticing way too much about her: her perfume, the way her hair tickles my cheek, the feel of her tits rubbing against my chest. “I’m more than certain what we have between us is more than enough to survive a little promotion. Working together will make us stronger, don’t you think?”
What is happening right now? And how can I kick her ass to the curb and get Simone back? Compliant, agreeable Simone.
And yet I’m the one who asked Harlow to come tonight. I’m the one who started all of this.
“My Sylvie always used to say that a little conflict only makes everything else that much sweeter,” says Robert.
“And we do love the sweet parts, don’t we Zane?” Harlow says with a bat of her lashes as her hand slides down to my ass and pats it for emphasis.
“We do,” I say through a cough, needing a reason to step away from Harlow and her way too warm body.
“Good onya, then,” Robert says with a huge grin, still not over his constant need to try and master my accent. “Isn’t that how you say it, mate?”
“It is, aye.” I’m distracted. I know I sound it but fuck if I can’t keep thinking about other ways to get out of this.
Zane Phillips is not one to be cornered, cajoled, or fucking forced to do anything . . . ever. I can’t even concentrate on what the two of them are saying, planning, fucking and scheming over because with every second that passes, my anger escalates to the next level.
Will it be a hardship working with Harlow? Hell, no.
Will I resent her every minute for outmaneuvering me? Damn straight.
What began as a game of one-upping each other—a contest—just screwed me didn’t it? I fucked myself and didn’t get an ounce of pleasure out of it.
“Robert Waze! Is that you?” says a voice from our left, giving me an opening.
“We need to check in with some acquaintances,” I tell him as my fingers grip Harlow’s elbow, and I direct us out of earshot of everyone around us.
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR goddamn mind?” Zane growls as I yank my arm from his grip once we find ourselves back where I first saw him, in the covered corridor.
“No. Actually I think I was pretty damn smart. Came to a party and secured a new job. Isn’t that what you said to me? That there would be opportunities here that I could maybe take advantage of?”
“Yeah, there is. But not with me! Not for me.”
“What’s wrong? Did you just get played by your own game, mate? Is that what I saw just happen? You try to make us a couple so I’d get booted and then—oopsie—it cemented the deal even further?” I shrug innocently in contradiction to the sarcasm lacing my voice. I love that with every second that passes, I can see the frustration grow in his expression: the narrow of his brows, the tic of the muscle in his jaw, the tension in his lips.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” He looks over his shoulder to make sure our conversation can’t be heard and moves us again so we’re under the cover of the night’s shadows.
“Yeah, I was saving your ass.” I snort. It’s not ladylike. It doesn’t go with the expensive dress I have on. But I couldn’t care less.
“My ass?” His chuckle could freeze water it’s so derisive. “I can handle my ass perfectly fine, thank you.”
“Actually you can’t,” I say as I step into him. “Which you would know if you’d heard Robert confess that he doesn’t trust you’re committed to this project. He was concerned about your motivation and your overall belief in this company as more than just a monetary venture.”
The look on his face tells me he believes it and had similar doubts. “The last thing I need is for you to interfere in my business dealings.” There goes that mask of arrogance again. It slides over his face like a shield of armor, one that hides every play of emotion from being seen.
“Why’s that? Are you afraid that maybe Robert overheard you trying to make a decision about which woman here could be your pretend girlfriend so you could pull one over on him?” My voice is saccharin sweet while my eyes level him with a glare. “I mean . . . what a friggin nightmare.”
I got his attention with that. His gorgeous green eyes pop up to meet mine and his fingers tense on the glass in his hand. “Harlow—”
I cock my head to the side. “So the way I see it, you owe me.”
His smile is cold at best. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Nah, more just managing the controlled burn you started.” I know I’m being childish but it feels so good to see Zane’s mouth grow lax, not a single smooth word falling from his lips. “I’m also saving you from making a huge mistake and screwing Simone, driving away your spokesperson and getting caught by Robert.”
“I’m a grown man, I can sleep with whomever I want to.”
My laugh is full and throaty and mocking. “Not when you’ve found the love of your life, you can’t. What would poor Robert think if he found out you were sleeping with someone else while supposedly dating me? I don’t think that would go over too well.” I shake my head slowly, enjoying seeing him squirm. “Don’t you hate that your own plan backfired. That you tried to get me off—”
“If I tried to get you off, I’d be more than successful—and you’d be in a much better mood.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“That’s what I’m known for, sweetheart.”
We wage a visual war, both of us glaring at one another as we try to navigate our newfound situation.
“It’s a simple fix,” he says, voice low, body on the defensive. “Tell Robert you can no longer do it. Your mom is sick. Your dog died. You got a bigger job elsewhere. Whatever.”
“So what? You can give the job to Simone?” I look over his shoulder to the people beyond and find the woman I’d heard bragging earlier. She’s stunningly gorgeous in every way imaginable—hair, body, lips, style. “Isn’t she the one who was telling everyone about all the work she has and how she can barely fit this on her schedule if she were to get the job? That Simone? She’ll live, Zane. And I’ll save her the heartache of getting played and thinking there is actually something between you two.”
“You’re a real piece of—”
“Careful what you say about your girlfriend, Zane.” He grits his teeth and I roll my eyes. “Oh please—”
“Will you shut up?” he growls.
“No. It’s one photo shoot. Big deal. It’s the least you can do—”
Before I can finish the words, Zane’s lips are on mine. He’s heat and fire and sparks of anger are on his tongue. They stun me momentarily as I try to hold my ground . . . but hell, the man can kiss.
I’m stuck in that suspended state of wanting to take a stand and push him off of me, all the while wanting to kiss him back and take what he’s offering.
And just when I make the decision—just when his free hand slides up the bare plain of my back and the heat of his body seeps through my dress in the front, he shocks me by pulling apart from me.
It takes me a second to catch my breath. To find my bearings. To remember my thoughts.
“Robert was watching,” he murmurs as his eyes bore into mine. As unaffected as his words sound, his body, his lips, his fingers moving as if they’re itching to touch all say something completely different. “Just keeping up pretexts.”
Flustered when I don’t get flustered, I need to do something to right the c
onfusion I feel and put us back on even footing. Without thinking, I fist my hands in his vest and step on my tiptoes, and press my lips to his. I meet his kiss match for match—in heat, in anger, in confusion, in curiosity.
When I break my lips from his and draw in a shaky breath, I love the bewildered look on his face. “Just keeping up pretexts,” I repeat his words with an innocent bat of my lashes and nonchalant shrug. Anything to hide the rapid beating of my heart and the fact that I may be brave and forward, but kissing Zane Phillips like that just made me super nervous.
“Yes. Of course.”
He nods almost as if he doesn’t trust himself to say anything more. He takes a sip of his drink and turns to face the party that was at his back. We stand in silence for a few beats, almost as if we don’t know what to say or where to go after that kiss . . . and maybe I should take that as a warning to step back, take his advice, and feign a problem so that I don’t have to take this job.
Maybe that’s what he wanted.
“Fine. You win. You’ve got the job, Harlow. It’s the least I can do for you helping me keep Robert happy.”
“Oh . . .” His sudden compliance startles me. And makes me skeptical.
“Besides, you’ll leave Monday for a multi-week promotional tour.” His smile broadens and he turns for me to see it. “We’ll only have to see each other once or twice before you leave so I can catch you up to speed and then after you return . . . the distance will have been too much for us to manage, being a new relationship and all.”
I chew the inside of my cheek as our eyes hold. “And you’re sure Robert is going to be okay with this?”
“No.” He shakes his head as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “But considering you’re about to get a contract for one hundred and fifty grand for looking pretty and speaking nicely to promote SoulM8 . . . I think you’ll be fine letting Robert down.”
It takes everything I have for my jaw not to drop.
One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Did he just actually say that?