“No idea. He was vague.” The lies come too easily now, and I hate it. “You know how he is.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” She takes a long drink of her martini, thinking. “This could be a problem. There are plenty of opportunities for him to make bad decisions.”
“I was thinking—” I hesitate, as if the idea just occurred to me. “Maybe I should stay too. Keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't do anything that undoes all our hard work.”
Jennifer looks at me for a long moment. Then she nods slowly. “That's very dedicated of you, Avery. Most publicists wouldn't sacrifice their Monday to babysit a client.”
The guilt intensifies. “It's my job. And honestly, I'd rather stay and prevent a crisis than fly home and have to manage one from New York.”
“Smart thinking.” She finishes her martini and signals for the check. “Keep me updated. If he does anything questionable, I want to know immediately.”
“Of course.”
We split the bill and head toward the elevators. My phone buzzes again.
Liam: Did it work?
Me: Yes. But I feel terrible.
Liam: I know. But in an hour, none of this will matter. I promise.
Liam: I booked us a different hotel. The West Peak in Yorkville. It’s private and discreet. Just for us.
My heart does that stupid fluttering thing it always does when he says things like that.
The elevator arrives, and Jennifer and I ride up in comfortable silence. We're on the same floor.
“Get some rest,” she says as we reach her door. “And don't let Liam wear you out too much.”
More guilt. “I'll be fine.”
“I know you will. You're excellent at your job, Avery. The board made the right choice hiring you.” She unlocks her door. “I'll see you back in New York. Try not to get too bored babysitting.”
I force a laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
She disappears into her room, and I stand in the hallway for a moment, hating myself.
This isn't me. I don't sneak around. I don't lie to my boss. I'm the responsible one, the planner, the person who always does the right thing.
But when it comes to Liam Novak, I'm willing to throw all of that away.
I unlock my door and step inside my hotel room. It's fine with a comfortable bed and a decent view. But it's nothing special.
I should feel guilty about lying or even anxious about getting caught.
Instead, all I feel is anticipation.
I pull out my suitcase and start packing. My hands are shaking as I fold clothes and gather my toiletries from the bathroom. This is crazy. What if next week or even a month from now, Liam decides he’s had enough?
It’s a frightening thought, but not enough to stop me.
I’m entering this with my eyes wide open, I comfort myself.
Packing done, I try to work while I wait, reviewing some coverage from today’s game and scheduling a few social media posts.
But my concentration is shot. Every sentence I read blurs together. Every photo I look at might as well be blank.
All I can think about is Liam. About two days alone with him.
