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Her whiskers twitch as she rubs her face against mine.
Sounds like a yes to me.
***
My chipper whistling echoes through the garage as I make my way to the elevator. I haven’t seen Lily in a week because I had to get other work done first—songs to go through, artists to speak with, and more demos to sift through once they passed my team’s hands.
I have a team. You’d think it would’ve put me in a better mood, but I’ve been pissy all week. Not the best first impression, by far, if it were the first. Fortunately, I’ve known most of these people for years, and they know my mood is what some would call surly on a good day. I’ve never understood when quiet became another word for cranky. I don’t like idle chit-chat. Fucking sue me.
Today is different—better. Today, I meet with Lily, and I’m ready for the fireworks to begin. And there will be fireworks. Though, I’m sure they won’t all be good. I don’t care because today, she’s stuck.
“Hold the elevator,” I hear as I push the button.
Jonathan Rivers is running for the car, briefcase in one hand as the other works his tie. My foot slides to the closing doors to hold them as he dashes in. “Thanks,” he pants, setting the case on the ground and using the mirrored door to finish his tie.
“Yep.” The single-word response earns me an eye roll. “What?”
“There are more words in the English language than a person will ever use, but you choose the monosyllabic sounds instead of actual words.”
“What did you want me to say?” I lift a brow and tilt my head, meeting his annoyed eyes in the reflective surface. “You said ‘thanks.’ I responded.”
“You are welcome would’ve been a better response, but whatever.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask. “Did you accept?”
“I’m still considering it. I’m weighing many pros and cons.”
“Like?”
“I’ll always be general counsel for the company. No opportunity of upward movement.”
“Dude, they want you to be a fucking executive. Not general counsel. And no one said you had to take the position forever.”
“I know, but I’ve been at the firm for five years. The ten-year plan to make partner won’t happen if I leave.”
“Give me a break.”
His head snaps to mine, glaring. “What does that mean?”
I chuckle and stare him up and down, taking in his suit and tie, the two-thousand-dollar haircut, and the expensive shoes on his feet. “We both know you chase the money, Jon. You wouldn’t do half the shit you do if Maddox and Ryder didn’t pay you a massive retainer. Not your firm. You. You’re waiting to see if your firm offers better.”
His lips pull to the side as he tries to hide his smirk. “Maybe I am.”
“And if they do, are you hoping the guys one-up them?”
He blows out a breath and ducks his head. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told them. I know my worth, and they offered me more than I would’ve had the nerve to ask for. If I’m honest, I’m taking the offer, but my ego—”
“Your ego wants to know if your firm sees the same value Maddox and Ryder do.”
“That.” He nods and turns his head back toward the door.
“So, if you haven’t taken the position officially, what brings you here today?”
“They want Blaze Erikson gone. I’m going to look through his contract and see what their options are.”
“Ahh.” I nod in total agreement. The lead singer of Dirty Minds is a douche that has crossed too many lines and gotten away with it for too long, but I have a feeling that the contract was ironclad, and we were all stuck with the predator.
The elevator doors open, but Jonathan calls my name before I step into the lobby. I turn toward him with a raised brow when he has a sly smirk lifting his mouth. “Try not to get any sexual harassment complaints today, yeah.”
