The truth is, I don’t actually want someone like Griffin handling things for me. What I want is to be the person who can make things happen for themselves, easy as snapping their fingers.
“Come on,” I say to Adam, cutting across the marble floor toward the elevator bank.
I jab the up button with my knuckle and glare at my phone screen while I wait for the elevator to arrive. The last story the social media manager posted was a half hour ago at this point, but it looked like an elaborate event setup near one of the pools. This hotel has five different pools, but they all seem to be located in the same rooftop area, so I figure if she’s still up there, it won’t be too difficult to track Mae down myself. Aside from the fact that I don’t actually know what she looks like. But the last of my dignity was drained back at the bar, and I am not afraid to wander around calling out her name until someone answers.
“You sure we should be doing this?” Adam asks behind me. I roll my eyes up to the screen above the elevator, the numbers ticking down as it approaches.
“You’re free to wait in the lobby,” I tell him evenly.
He makes this put-out little noise, but when the elevator arrives and empties, he’s quick to follow me inside. I repeatedly punch the button marked for the pools until the doors close again. We start to move and make it all of two floors before Adam opens his mouth again.
“Just seems like we might be wasting our time.”
My jaw clenches. The walls in here are mirrored, so I don’t bother turning around, but flick my gaze up to Adam’s reflection. “If waiting around for the hotel staff to get their shit together seems like a better option to you, then by allmeans…” I lean forward and smack the button for the next floor. “You can leave.”
The elevator stops quickly enough to make my stomach swoop. The doors open, revealing an empty hall. Adam holds my stare in the mirror for a moment, then reaches around me and hits the button to close the doors.
“Sorry. You’re stuck with me.”
“As long as it’s not until death parts us, right?” It comes out sounding bitter, even to my own ears.
It goes without saying that neither of us want rumors to start spreading. This whole situation is a veritable shit show. But Adam made it sound like being associated with me in any capacity is the worst thing that could ever happen to him. It hurt my fucking feelings, and I hate that he is apparently capable of doing such a thing.
The doors finally slide closed. “You sure you don’t want to at least ride in separate elevator cars? Or one of us could take the stairs.” I snap my fingers. “Maybe you should put on a disguise.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re obviously concerned about us being seen together.”
The elevator is moving again, though it feels like a painfully slow climb. Especially when we stop again on the next floor to let a middle-aged man on. The guy taps the button for the floor he wants, then goes back to looking at his phone.
Adam frowns in my direction. “I knew you were upset about that.”
“I’m not upset.” I don’t miss the way the random guy next to us lifts his eyebrows, like evenhedoesn’t believe this statement. “I just wouldn’t want to tarnish your pristine reputation.Though, honestly? It’s sort of funny you’re so worried about your image, yet for all your discerning taste you still jump to defend Billy Draper.”
I may not know Billy like Adam does, but I know him well enough. We met once, at one of the exclusive country clubs Griffin belonged to. It was the sort of place that charged a six-figure initiation fee, a club rich people joined either because they were serious about golf, or serious about networking with other West Coast elite. Griffin may have been a bit of both, and while I was neither, I sometimes tagged along to sip cucumber water in the spa, or get an overpriced pedicure and charge it to Griffin’s account.
Billy was one of Griffin’s regular golf partners, and we were introduced after they’d already played eighteen holes and imbibed god knows how many cocktails out on the course. They were in the clubhouse having another drink, and I walked up to their table in time to catch the tail end of Billy’s rant.
“… how many hours I put into building her career. I made her. Then she drops me for some unproven chump who gets to benefit from my hard work. Ungrateful bitch.”
Griffin coughed a laugh into his beer. I watched as he swallowed his drink and tipped his head. “Good riddance.”
At that point, I considered turning tail and texting Griffin to meet me when he was done, but it was too late. Griffin had noticed me.
“How was the spa, darling?”
Billy turned to follow Griffin’s gaze as I closed the remaining distance.
“It was great.” I stopped at Griffin’s side and smiled tightly across the table. “You must be Billy.”
“I am.” Billy stood, slightly unsteady on his feet, and reached across the table to shake my hand. “Nice to finally meet you.” He sank back into his chair and picked up his glass, using it to gesture at Griffin. “This guy brags about you all the time.”
I lifted a brow and looked down at Griffin. “Is that right?”
Griffin shrugged and wound an arm around my hips, tugging me off-balance until I had no choice but to perch on the wooden arm of his dining chair. “Of course. Billy could never land a girl like you. It’s fun to make him jealous.”
A flush rose up my neck. Not the pleasant kind, accompanied with a fluttery stomach and a hit of dopamine. This one prickled. Griffin had a habit of speaking about me like I was a prize he’d won. It became less flattering each time.
