I bit back the urge to curse loudly and stuffed my phone in my suit pocket, noticing Sabrina eyeing me from the seat at my side. I sat back in my chair wondering if she’d seen the conversation on my phone.
Probably not.
She was likely only looking at me because we’d had a Thing once. And we still might when this farce was over. If I was smart, I’d focus all my fantasies on her now, for real. She didn’t drive me mad like Elizabeth did. Didn’t make me want to rip my hair out. Didn’t make my eye twitch.
Didn’t consume my thoughts and make me want to tear off all her clothes and then mark up her creamy white skin before telling her all the ways that she made me think the world was a better place because she was in it.
Yeah. Focusing on Sabrina definitely didn’t make me want to do that.
I kept thinking about the two of them through the rest of the meeting, about Elizabeth and Sabrina. Or rather, I kept thinking about Elizabeth, and wondering how I could force my thoughts to the beautiful brunette sitting next to me instead. Even when I tried to muster up memories from the weekend we’d spent together naked, it all turned into Elizabeth.
What kinds of sounds would Elizabeth have made if I’d fucked her against the wall like that? What expression would she have made? How would she have felt around my cock when her pussy tightened and came?
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get her out of my head.
And the only way I knew to get a woman out of my head was to get another woman in it.
When the meeting was over, Sabrina stood quickly, eager to get back to her work.
I called after her, feeling guilty as her name crossed my lips. She was my subordinate, someone I worked with on a daily basis, and after what I’d done last night, saying her name at the worst time, for the worst reason? I’d poisoned it.
And here I was using it again for my own selfish reasons. I was such a fuckwad. But I was also unrepentant.
She turned back to me, tugging on her hair. “Yeah?”
I didn’t know what I was doing.
But I gave her my widest smile and winged it. “I wanted to let you know that Phoenix was particularly impressed with our marketing objectives. It was one of the main reasons we landed the account.” All of that had been true, and it was a good idea as her boss to praise her for it. If I were more focused on my job, I would’ve done that earlier.
Maybe.
“I inherited a very qualified and talented team,” she said, modest as always.
I shifted my weight on my hip. “You did. I know you did. Tom Burns also let me know a few things.”
“Like what?”
I looked up and saw Donovan watching us. There was nothing that I’d said that was inappropriate, but with the thoughts I’d been having about her—or rather the thoughts I hadn’t been having about her but had been pretending to have about her—plus the tension I was having at home, it was seeming more and more like maybe doing something reckless was my only way out of the spell Elizabeth had over me.
And Donovan never approved of recklessness.
“We should talk about it privately,” I said to her. God, I was such a dick. Was I really doing this? “Meet you upstairs in my office in fifteen?”
She blinked a couple of times, and I wondered if she understood what I was getting at. “Sure. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
By the time I got up to my office, I was having second thoughts about using Sabrina as a source of distraction. It was wrong on so many levels.
I needed to confront my real problem, head-on.
I took a deep breath and tried once more to reason with my fiancée about the evening’s plans. It’s Friday. We were going to The Sky Launch anyway. Just go to Red Farm instead.
I sat in my chair and rocked onto its back wheels while I waited for her reply. When it came, I almost fell over. We don’t usually go to the club until later, and I already told you I didn’t want to go out tonight because I have to pack and get up early for my trip with Mom. Did you forget?
Trip? What trip?
I picked up my office phone and called my assistant, Roxie, too lazy to walk out and talk to her in person.
“Do you know anything about Elizabeth going on a trip?” I could hear how terse I sounded.
Roxie’s throaty Hungarian accent sounded both through the receiver and from outside my office. “It’s her mother’s birthday. She going on a spa trip in Connecticut with her for the week. It’s been on your calendar for weeks. Did you forget?” Her echo of Elizabeth’s words just riled me up more.
“I didn’t forget, thank you,” I snapped. I’d totally forgotten. “I just didn’t know it was this week.” I hung up before she could say anything else.
I bounced my foot rapidly up and down. Elizabeth still had to eat. I sent another message. We’ll be home early enough. Just go to the fucking dinner.
I’ll be home early enough because I’m not fucking going.
I could feel my face getting hot with anger as I read her reply. I was still staring at it when a second message came in on its tail.
And send me Clarence’s phone number. Now that your phone isn’t dead.
I didn’t even realize how pissed I was until the growl came out of my throat. I was so angry. So frustrated.
So hard.
As angry as we’d been with each other, it was probably good that we weren’t going to see each other tonight. Even better that we weren’t going to see each other for an entire week. I would get my apartment to myself, wouldn’t even have to stay at her place.
But... I wanted to see her.
I wanted to stay at her place. I wanted to fucking be in her arms. I wanted to be in her bed, wanted to be inside her—and since I still couldn’t stand her, the whole idea had me in turmoil.
I ran my hand through my hair. Both of my hands through my hair. One after another, willing myself to settle down, but I heard Roxie’s voice outside the office.
“Go on in. He’s in a mood though. I warn you.”
“I heard that,” I yelled.
“You were meant to,” she called back.
Then there was Sabrina standing in my doorway, her hands tugging at her hair like they often did, a gesture I’d found adorable when I’d first met her a decade ago.
And now?
She was striking, she really was. A natural beauty. She’d grown up to be even more sophisticated and beguiling, more sure of herself. She was serious and put together. She wasn’t feisty or passionate. She wasn’t late for everything.
Why did I have to remind myself that these were good things?
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked tentatively. “Is there a problem?”
“Not exactly.” I dropped my phone on my desk. But it sat there, staring, mocking, Elizabeth’s texts shouting in my head at the mere sight of it.
I opened my desk drawer and threw my phone inside, as though that would silence the buzz buzz of my thoughts.
It was weak, but the only idea I had at the moment.
I turned my attention back to Sabrina.
“Have a seat,” I said, and the world did seem a little less noisy now that my cell phone was tucked away.
She walked farther into the room somewhat cautiously, and slunk down in the chair facing me. “I’m here.”
“You’re here.” I didn’t even remember how to do this. Didn’t remember how to talk to a woman.
What the hell had happened to me?
I shook my head and attempted a smile. “Anyway. As I was saying downstairs, Tom Burns spoke to me yesterday, and he had some interesting things to say about you.”
“Really? Like what?” She blinked rapidly, seeming nervous.
Women were nervous when they were into a guy, right? Shit, I needed to be closer, needed to get the barriers out from between us. I stood up and circled around so I was right in front of her, then leaned back, half sitting on the desk behind me.
As soon as I sat, she bolted to a standing position, startling me.
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“Whoa,” I said. “You okay?”
“Yep. Just edgy today.” She tugged on her hair. “Go on. Tom said…?”
“That you stayed as late as anyone else, and that you provided some of the last minute additions to the project, such as the global message component. That was one of the selling points in the strategy.”
“Really?” Her eyes were level with mine now, her focus completely on me. She was into this, then, if I was reading this right.
And I wasn’t. Yet.
“Yes. Really.” I kept on with my praise. I wasn’t a quitter. “I wanted you to know your commitment to your team didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone seems to be responding really well to you. The staff likes you. Your team likes you, and I’m really glad you came.” I was glad she’d come. She’d done great things for the company, made my job easier. She was probably better at the work than I was.
And I was glad for other reasons. Surely.
She was still playing with her hair so I reached out and took it from her and tugged it myself, making a play of sorts.
Had coming on to a woman always felt this unnatural?
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Her cheeks grew pink. “Was that everything?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes on hers. “Yeah, that’s everything.” I chuckled at myself. What else was I supposed to say? No, that’s not everything, I was hoping we could meet at a hotel later so I can remember why I like you better than the woman I’m marrying.
That wasn’t smooth at all. Three months out of the game, and I’d forgotten all my moves.
“Okay, then. Thank you again.” She started to leave, then hesitated. “Oh, and congratulations on the account.”
She definitely wanted me. All I had to do was want her back.
Or at least try to.
“Congratulations to both of us.” I put my hand up in the air to give her a high five, and when her palm met mine, I left my hand there, let it linger, and when she started to pull away, I laced my fingers through hers.
Yeah, this was how to do it. It was coming back to me now. It didn’t have to be tawdry.
“You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?” I asked, my confidence rising incrementally along with my self-loathing.
Out of the corner of my eye, Donovan appeared in the open door frame.
Sabrina glanced over and noticed him too, but instead of pulling back, she entwined her fingers around mine. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”
“Good. I’ll save you a seat.” We held hands, stretching our arms until she was too far away to touch, and then we let go. I watched after her, though, my heart beating hollow in my chest, my stomach feeling empty.
I sighed again and turned to my partner. “Kincaid. Whatcha got for me? Budgets for the toothpaste campaigns, I’m hoping.”
He closed the door.
Which was immediately a bad sign. There was no need to have the door closed to discuss toothpaste campaigns.
“What the goddamn hell are you doing?” he hissed.
Of course. I should have seen this coming a mile away. “Oh, Christ. You’re really going to be like this, aren’t you?”
He paced toward me, his face looking as enraged as I’d felt all morning. “Our reputation is on the line. Our company is on the line. Elizabeth’s company is on the line.”
I stood up from the desk to answer him. “I know what’s on the line. Trust me.”
“Trust you? I walked in on you with your hands all over Sabrina,” Donovan said, disgusted. “Your door was wide open. The glass is clear. Anyone could have seen you.”
I circled behind my desk, putting a barrier between us so that I didn’t kill him. “Because there are so many spies in our office just dying to call up Elizabeth’s cousin and tell him about some harmless office flirtation? I bet he chases his own secretary’s skirt. Have you seen the guy?”
Donovan’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. “You’re lucky it was just me,” he said in a tone so quiet and controlled, it made my scalp prickle.
“So lucky. To think, I might’ve missed out on you telling me what was what and putting me in my place. Like always. Thank you. I appreciate it. Now if you don’t have anything business related—“
He cut me off. “This isn’t one of your games, Weston. You can’t charm your way through this like you do everything else.”
God, he sounded like my father. Not because my father had ever said words like that, but because Donovan thought he had the right to say things like that.
And he didn’t. No right at all.
I leaned my palms onto the desk and bent toward him. “If you didn’t think I was capable of it, then you shouldn’t have insisted I be the one to do the damn job. It isn’t like I wanted it.” I held his intense stare for several long seconds, neither of us backing down.
Finally, I spoke again. “Look. I’ll be where I’m supposed to be. I’ll go through with the wedding. I’ll wear the ring. I’ll continue playing house—playing the part like I have been, which has been an Academy Award-winning performance. But like hell do you get to keep popping in like you’re directing this show. You were the casting agent, Donovan, that’s all. Now step aside, and enjoy it when you get to put Reach’s name on Dyson’s advertising subsidiary, because that’s where you get to take your credit. The rest of your role is done.”
We stared at each other for a few more seconds, and I had a feeling he wanted to say something else, but by God, no way was I letting him have the last word. “Now, do I need to call security?” I said, acting like the total asshole that I was. “Because this is my office.”
He straightened to his full height. “Technically, it’s not your office, is it?” And he turned and left, shutting the door behind him.
Fuck him.
Fuck him for having the last word and fuck him for bringing up the money I owed him, for reminding me that I didn’t have a proper stake in the company yet.
But also, thank Donovan. Because he reminded me why I was doing all of this. Why I was suffering day in and day out with a woman who made me question everything that I wanted and desired.
But seriously, fuck them both. Both Donovan and Elizabeth.
And if this was really how it was going to be—Donovan barking orders, Elizabeth not playing her part to the limit, not being as committed as I had been—then I was done playing by the rules. Tonight I would go to Red Farm without my fiancée, and if I flirted with Sabrina, so be it. If I had fun with Sabrina, then good for me. If anyone else was put off by it, well, maybe they shouldn’t have treated me like this when all I was doing was my best.
I opened the top desk of my drawer and grabbed my phone. There was one more text I needed to send if I was going to feel completely liberated enough to do what I wanted this evening. I searched and found Clarence Sheridan’s number and sent it to my wife-to-be.
I might be a dick, but fair was fair.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m planning on getting a restorative herbal massage,” my mother said as I dropped a sleep mask into my suitcase. I shifted the cradle of the landline receiver so I could hold it with my chin and rifle through my dresser drawer at the same time. “Or should I get the chakra balancing massage instead?”
“What does it say the difference is?” I grabbed a handful of panties from the drawer and dropped them in the suitcase, then shuffled toward my closet for some yoga pants. To be honest, I wasn’t really paying attention to the types of services she was telling me about. She would change her mind by the time we got there.
The spa was in a resort in Connecticut—only a couple of hours away, but the driver was arriving early in the morning and I wanted to be packed tonight. I’d already spent an hour on the task, which was too long. We planned to spend most of the weeklong trip wrapped in seaweed and on massage tables, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a burden to pack a bag. Problem was, I was too distracted by thoughts of Weston.
Naked thoughts of Weston.
Thoughts of Weston doing the thin
gs I saw him doing last night in the dark.
“I don’t know, one’s Thai style, the other one’s Swedish with a focus on chakras. Oh!” my mother suddenly exclaimed. “We could do the massage for two!”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Those are for couples, Mom. They’re romantic and sexy-like.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we did it together. There’s a discount if you do it together.” With the money my mother got from her divorce, she didn’t need to worry about bargains. But she remembered where she came from, and she could never turn down a buy-one-get-one-free special.
“Sorry, Mom. I just don’t want to see you naked.” But there was that guy I did want to see naked.
And now I was thinking about him again. Or still. Missing his presence, trying not to notice what time it was or that he was likely out with his friends, eating dinner now. Trying not to wonder if he would show up at my house at all tonight, considering I was leaving in the morning. Our last texts had escalated in tone and tension; I had no idea whether he even wanted to be in the same room with me at the moment.
I didn’t want to be in the same room with him.
But I did.
No, I didn’t.
“What’s Weston going to do while you’re gone?” my mother asked, as though she could read my mind.
“I don’t know. And I don’t care.” With five pairs of yoga pants and four long-sleeved T-shirts, I returned back to my suitcase and dropped them inside. “Don’t you remember what it’s like to live with a man, Mom? Because it’s really terrible, and I’m glad I’m getting a break.”
She laughed. “Of course I remember, honey. Why do you think I’m divorced? But aren’t you worried that this particular man might muck up your deal while you’re out of town?”
I’d been conflicted about this. He’d promised me over and over again that he was faithful to our commitment, that he wasn’t going to do anything to mess up my chance at getting Dyson Media, but did I trust him?
Part of me did, actually. A deep-rooted part of me trusted him when he said he would keep it in his pants. It was my head that thought otherwise, the reasonable part of me that knew what men were like and what temptation could do to a man. That was the part of me that said perhaps he was fooling around, or would fool around, given the opportunity.
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