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“But we were on a business trip the first time you took me to bed.”
“What’s your point? Are you planning to report me to human resources?”
“Maybe.” I glanced back at the iPad. “If you’re meeting Clayton, I’ll be the one welcoming everyone. I don’t know these people. Can’t I go with you?”
“Not this time. And it’s only one afternoon. You won’t even realize I’m gone.”
“Sometimes I think you don’t know me at all.”
He exited the dressing room and leaned down to give me a kiss. “I know you better than you realize.”
I grabbed the front of his shirt, purposely wrinkling it. “One day your looks will fade and so will your power over me, mister.”
His hand slipped under the covers. “I have other methods of getting what I want.”
I squirmed out of reach and flipped to my stomach. “None of that. We have to go over the rest of this itinerary.”
He sighed. “Rayne, we’ve been over this. Andrew’s flying out with us tomorrow morning. Your mom and Tyler should be there by the time we arrive. My mom gets in late tonight, and my dad won’t get there until Monday evening.”
I frowned. “Monday evening’s the welcome dinner.”
“You work with him every day, Rayne. Does he really need to be welcomed?”
“That’s different. And most of the time we talk on the phone.” I was already dialing him. “He’s family, Hale. He needs to be there for all the things.”
Remington answered on the first ring. “What is it, Meyers?”
“Remington,” I snapped. “The wedding festivities start tomorrow evening and I expect you there on time.”
“Why are you bothering me about this? I have assistants who handle my schedule. Oh, right, that’s you.”
“Yes, that is me, and I told you to be in New York by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
“I’m arriving at six. Dinner’s not until seven.”
“That’s not enough time.”
He grumbled. “Damn it, Meyers, then move my flight. I’m in the middle of something here.”
I paused, trying to guess what he might be doing that had him so preoccupied on a Sunday morning. His schedule was currently open. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
I didn’t believe him. “Is Odette with you?”
“She’s shopping.”
I switched the call to Facetime, but he didn’t answer. “Pick up the Facetime, Remington.”
“No.”
“Are you smoking?”
“I’ll see you Monday.” The call went dead and I growled.
“I’m going to murder your father.”
“Get in line,” Hale mumbled, adjusting his jacket.
