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“Well, if you have a team of super spies on retainer, you would be better off having them track down whoever sent those pictures to Rita instead of following me around town,” I said.
“Trust me, there are people doing just that,” Cooper answered, without a trace of humor in his voice. “I want to find out just as much as you do. You might think that those photos only impacted your life, but think about it from my point of view. I’ve trusted Spotlight with almost all of my ad accounts over the years, and now, because of this scandal, I am no longer able to work with them and have to fight to get out of my existing contracts and find a new ad agency.”
“What? They won’t work with you anymore?” I spun in my seat to watch him.
“No, I refuse to work with them. They’re losing millions and millions in revenue over this whole thing. Rita is bending over backwards to get me to stay on as a client, but I find her unprofessional behavior to be repugnant and I won’t do business with her anymore.”
I thought back to what Bryce had told me, about how he had received a demotion and was working as Rita’s bitch because of the fallout. No wonder. A new pang of guilt hit me but it was quickly overshadowed by the idea of Rita scrambling to kiss Cooper’s ass.
A small victory.
My mind was busy processing what Cooper had just told me and I missed which exit we had taken, but within minutes we were driving down another highway and then taking a sudden right turn down another street. I had no idea where we were. I hadn’t left LA at all since moving from Kansas, so I was completely disoriented. There were tall trees all along the road as we drove and one more turn took us up a small hill. As we neared the top, a huge house came into view.
“Where are we?” I asked Cooper, breaking the silence that had settled between us.
“Home,” he answered.
Chapter Eight
“Home?” I repeated.
Cooper pulled up to a huge black gate that blocked the driveway. He rolled down his window, punched in a code and the gate retracted so we could get through. We pulled up to the house and the garage opened automatically, as if expecting us. Cooper parked and cut the engine, the headlights illuminating the inside of the immaculate, three- or maybe four-car garage.
“Come on, let’s get you something to eat,” he said. He hopped out of his side and came around to open my door.
“What? Now I’m allowed to walk on my own?” I asked sarcastically.
“For now,” he said, winking at me and offering a flash of his gorgeous smile, and a bolt of heat hit my stomach and then slid south at his naughty promise.
I stepped out of the car and Cooper shut the door behind me, and then turned and led me up a couple of steps and through a door. On the other side, we entered a large, dark room. He flipped on a light and turned off the security system. It looked like a storage room—large bins stacked on shelves against one wall, and then floor-to-ceiling cupboards on the other side.
Through that room, we entered into a massive kitchen. When the lights twinkled on, it lit up like a showroom in a furniture store—gleaming, granite countertops stacked on dark, cherry wood cabinets. Pendant lights hung down over a long island that had a gas stovetop. It was sparkling clean, and well-organized. There were some decorative touches—a bowl with fruit sat in the corner and there was a wooden tray that was set up with a fancy-looking box of tea on the island by the stove.
Beyond the kitchen, I could see a breakfast area that had a square table, the wood matching the cabinets, with a bench on one side and two plush chairs on the other. Both rooms had dark hardwood floors that continued through an archway that I assumed led to a dining room or living room space.
“Cooper, this place is amazing,” I finally said, after spinning around the room a couple times, taking it all in.
“This is my lake house. I usually come here on the weekends and stay at my condo during the week.”
I nodded and walked through the kitchen, running my hand along the smooth, cold granite.
“Unfortunately, it’s been a few weeks since I was last able to come out here, so I don’t have much in the fridge,” he said. I turned to him and stared at his ass as he leaned into the open refrigerator, taking inventory.
Holy shit, he was so hot. It had been a long time since our romp in his office, but I still remembered how that firm ass had felt under my hands as I pulled him into me, begging for him to fuck me harder.
A shiver of heat ran through me at the memory and I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was standing in his kitchen, with no one around for miles, in a robe and a slinky pair of panties. He hadn’t even let me put on shoes before he grabbed me. I looked down and wiggled my toes against the slick wood floors.
“Do you like pasta?” he asked, holding up a jar of spaghetti sauce and a package of tortellini.
“Sure,” I answered. I suddenly felt very awkward and exposed. I cinched the cord on my robe tighter.
“All right, I’ll get to work on that. Let me show you to the bathroom and get you something else to wear,” he said, turning his attention back to me, his eyes lingering on my barely contained breasts.
“Cooper.” My voice came out like a whisper.
He tore his eyes away from me and gestured for me to follow him. He led me up a set of stairs that were just off the kitchen and then down a long hallway to the last room on the left. He opened one of the two French doors and I gasped. It was very obviously the master bedroom and it was beautiful. There was a huge, four-poster bed in the middle with lush-looking blankets and pillows, like something from a five-star hotel up in the mountains. The opposite wall had a fireplace that was surrounded by slate stones. There was a set of doors that led to a balcony that was lit up.
