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I definitely didn’t do marriage.
The team had to have my back on this. They had to believe there was another way, a different route, a goddamn narrative that had nothing to do with me marrying a total stranger.
Still holding Holden’s chair, I looked at each member of the executive team. “Do you all agree?” My voice was rising. “Do you really believe this is a good idea? Knowing how I am? And my aversion to relationships?”
Each head nodded.
Easton even said, “You fucked things up for Hooked. It makes no difference whether we think this is a good idea or not—it’s decided.”
And Holden contributed, “If I wasn’t so angry and disappointed in you right now, I probably wouldn’t find satisfaction in saying ‘You’re going to become a married man,’ but it feels good to say those words because I’m hopeful it’ll fix everything you’ve done.”
My best friends.
These bastards knew why I felt the way I did, what I’d witnessed, how it had shaped me.
How dare they tell me to go against everything I believed in, to sacrifice my happiness, to do something so preposterous as get married.
I released Holden’s chair and walked toward the middle of the room, my fingers pulsing, my throat tightening, the sweat soaking through the pits of my polo. “I’m not doing it, and fuck you all for thinking I should.”
“But you are doing it, Grayson,” Easton said. “Our company is losing money by the second. It’s your fault. You need to mend what you’ve done, and this is the only way.”
“If I was in the same position,” Holden said, “I’d do whatever needed to be done, even if that was marrying someone I didn’t love.”
My head shook as I stared at the guys who were like brothers to me. “You’ve lost your fucking minds,” I seethed, and I walked out.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jovana
“So don’t freak out ...” Sloane said the moment I rushed into the bar.
Tonight was another shift I hadn’t been scheduled for, but when she called me in a panic, I’d stopped filming content for next week’s social media posts and thrown on my bar attire and come right in.
I clocked in on the computer, turning to her as I sang, “Okaaay ...”
“Grayson’s here.”
My eyes widened so large, they were on the verge of bulging out of my head. “Wait. What?”
“He walked through the door literally two minutes before you and sat at a table with his two business partners and two other women. I didn’t even have time to call you and warn you, it happened so fast.” Her expression was full of sympathy. “And babe, whatever you do, don’t turn around. You’re in his direct line of sight.”
All I wanted to do was turn around. “Oh God.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
“Two other women?” I groaned. “He’s the absolute worst.” I held the apron that I’d grabbed from behind the bar in my hands, debating whether I should tie it around my waist or make a mad dash out of here. “How much would you hate me if I bailed?”
She faced me, holding a bottle in each hand. “Something tells me they’re his employees or this is a business meeting because they all look kinda miserable and like they don’t want to be here.” She paused. “Does that make it better?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Definitely not.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t bail on me.” She turned toward the row of shot glasses that lined the bar and began filling them with the two bottles. “I don’t have another server coming in for two more hours.”
My chest began to tighten as I realized exactly what she was saying. “So you’re telling I’m responsible for every occupied table in this bar, along with Grayson’s?”
“Pretty much.” Her nose scrunched, emphasizing the silver loop that ran across the bottom of her nostril. “I owe you.”
My hands went to my hips. “Like covering my half of the rent this month—we’re at that level of owing.”
