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“Yes, I’ve heard of them. They’ve been around for a few years, but oh god, I’m so out of the loop right now.”
She rubs my shoulder soothingly. “I’m pretty sure you’d have a good chance at getting the job. You’re experienced with high-end goods, and I know you were training to be a buyer at Cartier, but this is a start. And with Lukas’ recommendation, I’m sure you’d get it.”
Wow. This could change everything for me. I miss my job. I miss being around what I know and what I’m passionate about. I didn’t just want another retail job; it felt like a step backward. I haven’t had my head in the game, which is why I’ve been hiding out working for Lukas and waiting tables in between.
“Where do I sign up?”
Ariana jumps up and down excitedly. “I’ll get Lukas to email the application.”
I hug my friend. “Thank you, Ari. You and Lukas have been amazing. I promise I’ll get out of your hair soon.”
“We love having you, so don’t talk like that.”
Honestly, without my friends, I’d be nowhere.
I smile. For the first time in a long time, things feel as though they’re finally looking up.
Chapter Seven
Khristian
Three days later
I roll my eyes at whatever my second in charge is saying. It’s all white noise.
The store is nowhere near being ready to open, and we’re behind the deadline. Weeks behind, if not a month.
I sigh heavily, cutting Marcus off as he waffles on with excuses. I lean against the window and look out of the high-rise where my office is, trying not to get the urge to shove Marcus off the balcony and plummet to his death. For every day we lose, it’s money down the drain.
I’m questioning my staff’s ability, and why the fuck I decided to open another store.
Maybe I am just a rich billionaire with too much time and money on his hands. Out of all my businesses, jewelry is the hardest one to control. There are too many variables.
Aside from Tre’sor and the Platinum hotel chain and Endeavors New York and Seattle, I have a successful advertising agency which runs itself, thanks to the team I put in place. I invested heavily as a young man, following in my father’s footsteps, and it paid off. I’m wealthy because I’m from a wealthy family — I acknowledge that — but to stay here at the top of my game has taken a lot of hard work.
I run a hand through my hair while he waffles on. My mind wanders to Friday night.
Has it really been three days?
Who am I kidding? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Imogen. She’s under my skin.
I should feel some remorse for what I did; pretending to be an escort instead of the owner.
A man who should know better.
I study my actions; fucking a woman into oblivion because I wanted it, regardless of the fact she trusted Endeavors with her most sacred desires.
Yet, do I feel guilty? Not one ounce.
Remembering her sweet body as I rolled my hips over and over. Her pretty eyes. Her skin and how good she smelled. The way she cried my name after I made her come over and over. Honestly, I can’t stand not being near her.
Three days.
She hasn’t texted me.
Maybe I should’ve made things clearer? Maybe she thinks she has to pay?
Did I fuck up? I feel the heat rise in my body as I tamper it down. I don’t want to lose my cool. Mostly with myself for being such a jerk.
