Page 9 of Tell Me You Need Me

“Get out of my office,” I grunt.

“Going, going.” Max raises his hand in mock surrender as he heads toward the door. “See you at the six-o’clock briefing.” The door closes behind him. I tip my head back to stare at the ceiling, and pinch the bridge of my nose, taking a moment for myself.

Now I’ve got more shit to deal with than ever before. Max being suspicious, Mischa and I actively playing with fire, and the sheer tension of keeping this a secret in the midst of a high-stakes deal, it’s threatening to implode right before my very eyes. I can’t keep playing defense. I need to take total control over the situation: the board, my company, and the trouble-making assistant currently sitting outside my office door.

I pull my cell phone out of my jacket pocket, unlocking the screen with a sharp swipe. If Mischa is planning a girls’ night at the bar, and Max is sniffing around my personal life, I’m going to need reinforcement. Fuck, I’m going to need to take control of the whole damn thing.

I open our group thread: Dom, Dante, Vik, Rafe, and Gavin. The tight, unbreakable circle of men who help run this city right alongside me. Seattle’s elite, men who control banks, shipping lines, networking, and real estate investments. Men who know how to lock down a room, clear out a crowd, and handle a situation before it ever makes it to the papers. My fingers fly across the glass screen as I fire off a message.

Me: Need the full crew tonight. The Sphere at eight. Also, I have it on good authority your women will be there.

My phone buzzes with incoming pings.

Dom: I know. I’ll be there.

Rafe: Booking the VIP balcony now.

Vik: My woman didn’t tell me shit.

Dante: If my wife is drinking without me, someone is dying tonight. Count me in.

Gavin: I’m there.

I set the phone face down on my desk before standing up, catching the subtle silhouette of Mischa sitting at her desk, typing away. She thinks she’ll be enjoying a night out with her friends. She has no idea what’s coming for her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

mischa

The Sphere is packed tonight—Seattle’s premier high-end lounge. It’s dripping in ambient mood lighting, brushed brass accents, and absurdly comfortable velvet seating. Right now, I’m tucking into an oversized curved both surrounded by my girls—Seraphina, Cory, Romy, Alex, and Gennie. Jett is the only one missing; she’s currently on the road across the country with her massive enforcer hockey player of a man, keeping him and his team viral in the social media realm.

Unsurprisingly, every single one of their men is here tonight, occupying the massive, dimly lit section on the opposite side of the VIP floor. A high-powered wolf pack of what used to be Seattle’s Most Eligible now known for the most regaled and influential men in the area—Dom, Dante, Vik, Rafe, and Gavin. They’re sitting around a table laden with top-shelf alcohol, looking like a high-society syndicate holding court.

And, of course, Nolan is sitting right in the center. The ring leader in the not-so girl’s night. They’re also not a part of any nefarious outfit, except raining on our parade. Even then, are they really?

He looks devastatingly handsome in the dark fitted suit I watched him put on this morning. His jacket is still on, perfectly fitted. His tie is long gone, the top button is undone, and he’s sipping bourbon while his eyes remain focused on me from across the room. He hasn’t looked away since he and his crew casually hijacked our night an hour ago.

“Okay, ladies, clock it,” I say, leaning over the table while tossing out one the Gen Z phrases, I’m sure I’m not using right with a mischievous smirk. “I have tea.”

“Clocked,” Gennie laughs, swirling her cocktail.

“Spill it before I die of curiosity,” Cory chimes in.

“Nolan finally gave in to temptation,” I whisper, leaning in closer as I feel a flush of heat spread across my chest. “After shutting me out after last Friday’s kiss, he completely lost control.”

“Oh, I know that all to well. They always try to play the stoic, unbothered type, until they break.” Seraphina lets out a soft, knowing laugh, taking a sip of her champagne.

“Yep.” Gennie pops the ‘p’, grinning as she gestures toward the guys’ table. “Same story, different brooding billionaire.”

“Same here,” Rory adds with a sly mile.

“Well, I ran away from mine, but he had zero problem chasing me down to the ends of the earth.” Alex tilts her head, swirling her glass of red wine with a dry chuckle. We all laugh, but my gaze flickers back to Nolan’s, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

“The thing is,” I mutter, my voice dropping, “I’ve had the hots for Nolan for longer than I can remember. His brains, his brawn, the sheer way he commands a room… and me.” I wiggle my eyebrow, giving them a glimpse of the amazing things he does to me. “But the main problem is, well, you know.” I subtly lift my chin toward the entrance.

“Your brother,” Rory states.

“Who, by the way, is walking this way right now.” Cory takes a bite of the appetizers we have scattered around on the table.