Finn: Not anymore.
I step out of the studio and onto the sidewalk. The experience I had in this spot hours ago was much better than this.
Kissing Maren in the middle of the day was what I needed.
I need more. I want more.
Finn: You still there?
I type out a message.
Keats: Still impatient? Craving my attention as usual.
I set off on foot toward the nearest subway stop. Finn can wait. I have to get to the office.
Finn: It’s about Vin Larchwood.
Vin is a basketball player I’ve been trying to sign for the past two months. He’s grabbed the interest of every sports agent in the country. I made it to his shortlist. Finn did too.
Keats: What about him?
Finn: You’re texting with his agent.
“Fuck,” I spit the word out as I stop to lean against a brick building.
This one hurts. I thought I had the upper hand.
Finn: You’re not going to congratulate me, Morgan?
I’m bitter, and I’m pissed, but I’ll give credit where it’s due.
Keats: Good on you.
I’ve lost my fair share of potential clients to Finn in the past, but this one hurts.
Finn: Word has it that we’re the last two candidates the Newmans are considering. Prepare to lick another wound when I sign Fletcher.
Word has it? What the fuck is that?
Keats: Who the hell told you that?
His response is instant and hits me square in the gut.
Finn: Patrika did. I had dinner at their apartment last night.
I rest my head against the brick and close my eyes. Goddammit. He’s making strides with them. I need tomorrow night to be perfect. I have to seal this deal.
Keats: May the best man win. We both know that’s me.
I descend the steps to the subway platform before his two-word reply hits my phone.
Finn: It’s on.
***
“You were a little aggressive.” Maren licks her bottom lip. “I’m not complaining. I’m just saying.”
She blew me just now.
I fed her dinner, carried her up the stairs to my bedroom caveman-style, and ordered her to get on her knees.
She happily agreed.
I thanked her with a string of expensive curse words. My dick showed its appreciation by coming down her throat.
My hands yanked on her hair. I tugged her closer and then held her in place while I fucked her mouth with long, slow strokes.
I’d blame it on my text exchange with Finn earlier, but it’s not all that.
It was hot-as-hell watching her close her eyes and take my cock.
I tug her onto the bed with me.
She’s only wearing a pair of pink panties and a smile.
“Give me a good three minutes, and I’ll show you how much I liked that.”
Slapping her hand over the center of my chest, she laughs. “Three minutes?”
“Two-and-a-half minutes now.” I perk a brow. “Is that skepticism in your tone?”
She presses her lips to mine. “You can’t possibly fuck me after that load you blew.”
I glance down at my semi-hard cock. “I can.”
Her lips trail over my jaw to my neck. She plants wet kisses there. “You’re a world champion fucker.”
I burst out laughing.
She does too. “I didn’t mean it like that, Keats.”
A hiccup falls from her lips before she tries to go on, “I meant…you’re really good… hiccup …you’re a great fuck.”
“I’m a goddamn gold medal fucker.” I pump my fist in the air.
Tears spring from her eyes as she laughs. “You’re good in bed. That’s what I meant.”
Her eyes widen as she hiccups again.
She drops her hand in mine. “Fix it.”
Still chuckling, I press my thumb into her palm. “I can do that.”
She pushes closer to me. “You can do anything, Keats.”
I’ll do anything for her.
“Since we’re taking a time-out from the best fucking in the world.” She hiccups. “What did Finn want?”
I glance at her. “We’re going to talk about work while you’re almost nude?”
She pushes her chest out. “Ignore my tits and talk.”
I lean down to take a nipple in my mouth. I bite it softly, luring a soft moan from her.
“Tell me, Keats.” She rests her back on the sheet. “He was very impatient on the call I had with him.”
“He signed a player I wanted.” I kiss every one of her fingertips as I keep pressure on her palm. “He also told me that Newmans are down to two choices. It’s him and us.”
She darts up to a sitting position. “Seriously?”
I take her other nipple in my mouth and draw a slow circle around it with the tip of my tongue. “Seriously.”
“I’ve arranged the perfect dinner party tomorrow, Keats.” She presses her lips to my forehead. “I’m confident that once they spend one more evening with us, Fletcher will be a part of our roster.”
I believe her.
She sighs. “My hiccups are gone, and it’s way past three minutes, so?”
I watch as she slowly slides the panties down her legs.
Reaching behind me for a condom package, I close my eyes. Life doesn’t get more perfect than this.
Chapter 53
Maren
Coffee with my two best friends is exactly what I need today.
Since Arietta and Bianca have never met, and both wanted some time with me, I thought this was the perfect solution.
We’re at a crowded café in midtown.
Bianca chose this place because she knew she’d be in the neighborhood. Arietta agreed to show up after telling me that she banked so many hours that she was entitled to a little extra time away from the office today.
I’m the luckiest of the bunch.
So far, my day has consisted of speaking with the caterers and stopping by Wild Lilac. It’s a floral shop owned by Athena Millett. She’s engaged to Liam Wolf, who happens to be one of Keats’s closest friends.
Athena knew who I was immediately. She made me feel at home.
While I sat and sipped a cup of tea she made for me, she arranged a gorgeous arrangement of white flowers for the centerpiece for our table tonight.
It was too large for me to carry to the townhouse, so she’s having it delivered late this afternoon.
After this much-needed coffee date, I’m going home to shower, and then I’ll head to Keats’s place to get all the last-minute details in order.
He’ll be waiting for me there since he’s working from home today.
“You’re beautiful, Arietta.” Bianca gazes at my roommate. “Your bone structure is perfection.”
Arietta smiles. “I can say the same about you, Bianca.”
Bianca pats the top of Arietta’s hand. “Maren tells me you work for Dominick Calvetti.”
Arietta sighs. “It’s true. Mr. Calvetti is my boss.”
“My deepest sympathies.” Bianca giggles. “He’s a fucking tyrant.”
Arietta laughs. “You know him.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
Bianca shakes her head. “I don’t, but I’ve heard enough stories about him to understand that you are truly a saint.”
Arietta takes a sip from the mug of green tea she ordered. “We should be talking about Maren’s boss.”
I inch up a brow. “We should?”
“You mean Maren’s fake boyfriend.” Bianca points a finger at me. “Who knew Maren had that in her?”
My roommate’s brow furrows. “Fake boyfriend? What do you mean?”
Dammit.
I never told Arietta about that because things shifted so quickly between Keats and me.
Bianca tosses me a look meant to convey her regret for bringing it up, but I chase that away with a soft smile.
“Remember that
night I went to Nova with Keats for a business dinner?”
Arietta nods. “You went to meet a baseball player.”
“Fletcher Newman,” Bianca clarifies.
“When he walked into the restaurant with his dad, Keats was holding my hand and telling me that he wanted me to meet his brother and his niece.”
Arietta pushes her finger against the frame of her glasses. “Oh, boy.”
I nod. “They assumed we were dating, but Keats was trying to stop my hiccups and the invite to meet his family was something he said he did with all of his assistants. It was completely innocent...”
“But it didn’t look that way,” Bianca interjects.
I shake my head. “No. It looked like we were a couple, and from there, it just took off. The Newmans saw us as a strong team inside and outside of the office, so we went with it.”
Arietta scratches her chin. “Did they think you were a couple when you went to their anniversary party?”
I nod. “They did. They assumed we were together.”
Arietta drops her gaze to the mug in front of her. I don’t want her to feel disappointed in me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Arietta.”
She glances up. “Don’t be sorry. Everyone has secrets they don’t always share.”
“We’re good?” I ask, hopeful that this won’t change anything between us.
“We’re good,” she reassures me with a pat of her hand on my forearm. “Drink up, ladies. I need to go back to work soon.”
***
I took my time in the shower. It was both relaxing and invigorating. Now that I know that the Newmans have narrowed the field of potential agents to two, I’m more determined than ever to get Keats that contract.
I run a brush through my hair.
I’ve always had curly hair. I despised it when I was a teenager, but as I got older, I started to embrace it.
I love it now.
After applying moisturizer to my face, I set my ass down on the corner of my bed.
When I reach for my phone, I’m surprised to see a missed called from Royce Knott.
I debate whether or not I should listen to the voicemail message. I’m happy working with Keats. It feels as though we’re building a strong team. I may not be chasing my dream of a career in public relations, but this is the next best thing.
All of my experience and insight is helping me be the best assistant I can to Keats.
I finally tap the voicemail message icon to listen.
“Maren? Jesus. I am so sorry about what happened to you. I need to see you. Name the time and place. I want to make this right.”
The message ends with me staring at my phone.
I play it again.
The voice belongs to Royce Knott, but I’ve never heard compassion in his tone before.
I don’t like leaving anything unfinished, so I press the button to call his number.
Chapter 54
Keats
One moment the world can be in the palm of your hand, and the next second, it can turn around and slap you across the face leaving you senseless.
That’s what I feel now.
I’m staring into a diner looking at the woman I love in the arms of another man. I saw a flash of red hair as I turned the corner. I knew it was Maren. That shot of need inside of me told me that. I tried to catch up, but she disappeared into the diner before I could reach her.
I don’t know who the fuck the guy is that Maren is hugging.
She’s supposed to be at my townhouse getting ready for the dinner tonight. Instead, she’s clutching onto a tall guy with blond hair who looks like he wants to make her every dream come true.
I know regret when I see it on a man’s face.
It’s there on mine when I wake up every morning.
I used women for years to bury my feelings. I didn’t care enough about them to remember their names or what they liked in bed.
When they called the next day, I’d answer with an excuse about being busy.
I was a coward.
I’m not a coward anymore.
I move toward the door of the diner because I’m not going down without a fight. I love Maren. I know she loves me.
I feel it.
Whoever the man is that she’s clinging to, he needs to get in line behind me, because I already gave my heart to Maren, and I don’t want it back.
Just as I’m about to reach for the door handle, my phone rings.
I curse under my breath even though no one around me will fine me for swearing.
I tug my phone out of my pocket.
Earl Newman’s name lights up the screen of my phone.
I silence it because he needs to wait.
I hold the door open for a woman with a stroller. She struggles to maneuver the wheels through the narrow entryway, so I help out. I take over the handle and guide it through all while the small brown-haired baby inside keeps napping.
“Thank you.” She turns to me. “Most men in this city wouldn’t help my son and me out.”
“Most men in this city are assholes,” I quip.
She drops her gaze to the diamond ring nestled next to a wedding band on her hand. “My husband, Griffin, doesn’t qualify. You don’t either. I hope Ellis grows up to be a gentleman too.”
“It sounds like he has a great role model in your husband.” I look down at the little boy. “Cute name, by the way.”
“It’s my maiden name.” She smiles. “I won’t keep you, but thank you again.”
I force a smile as she makes her way toward an empty table.
The ringing of my phone drops my gaze down to the screen again.
I answer as I watch Maren walk toward the washroom leaving the guy in the gray suit alone.
“Earl,” I say his name. “How are you?”
His answer sets me back a step. I fumble to grab hold of the wall, but I’m left grasping at air.
As I stumble out of the diner and onto the sun-soaked sidewalk, my world goes dark.
“I’ll be there,” I tell him solemnly. “I’m on my way.”
***
Four hours later, I feel like I’ve been in the ring with a prizefighter.
I’m sitting at a bar on Madison Avenue, relying on my common sense to dictate how much alcohol I’ll pour down my throat tonight.
So far, the scotch is winning.
I’m on my third.
I lost everything in a matter of a few hours.
Maren met up with some chump in a cheap suit at a diner.
Before that, she apparently had coffee with her friends while she was sitting at a table next to a friend of Patrika Newman.
Millions of people call Manhattan home, but the degrees of separation are minuscule.
Earl let me have it. He won’t work with a liar, he said.
I don’t blame him.
Finn Remsen will be celebrating tonight.
I glance at my phone when it starts to ring again.
Maren might think the third times the charm, but I silence it the same way I did the last two times she’s called.
I haven’t read any of her text messages either because what the fuck am I supposed to say?
Who is the guy in the suit you met up with today?
She sent me a text ten minutes before I spotted her at the diner.
I don’t need to reread that text message. I saved it to heart.
Maren: I’ll be on my way soon. I can’t wait for tonight. It feels like the start of something amazing for us.
Us.
I hate that fucking word.
I finish what’s left in my glass and tap the top of the bar to gain the server’s attention.
She walks toward me with a grin on her face. “Do you want another?”
I nod.
“I’m Kendall.” She leans an elbow on the bar. “What’s your name?”
She’s pretty. At one point in the past, I would have already asked her to meet up with me after her shift.
The problem is
that she’s not Maren.
I push back from the bar. “I changed my mind.”
Tugging a few bills from the front pocket of my jeans, I toss them on the bar.
“Thanks,” she says brightly. “I hope to see you again soon.”
She won’t.
I’m not traveling down that same fucked-up path I did before. I’m going home to bed. I’ll sleep this off, and tomorrow I’ll figure out what comes next.
Stepping onto the sidewalk outside the bar, I’m met with a gust of wind.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I need to look at the fucking thing if I’m going to get an Uber, so I tug it out.
A text message from Maren greets me.
Maren: I’m scared. Please tell me you’re okay. Please, Keats.
I type back a response. It’s all I can manage because the screen is so fucking blurry.
Keats: I need time.
I press send, order an Uber, and silence my phone.
Chapter 55
Maren
“This isn’t the same as what happened with Kollin.” Bianca reaches for my hand. “It’s not, Maren.”
When she texted me this morning to find out how dinner went last night, I sent her a simple reply: I need you.
She rushed over here.
She didn’t time her arrival, but it happened minutes after Arietta left to take Dudley to doggy daycare on her way to work.
Arietta is the one who sat by my side last night. She could tell something was wrong when I was sitting on the couch in my sweatpants crying when she got home from work.
I have no idea what went so wrong.
When I got to Keats’s townhouse after meeting with Royce, he wasn’t home.
I banged on the door to try and rouse him because I thought he might have drifted off.
Neither of us has gotten much sleep recently.
When he didn’t answer, I called him.
I left a message and then another.
I finally left the steps of his townhouse with one last look at the locked door.
On my way home, the caterer I had hired called to confirm that the event was canceled.
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