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TRAVIS
WHOOPS.
I had to admit I sometimes got carried away. But, in my defense, some of my best memories came in the wake of my bad ideas. There was the time I got dropped into a remote forest in Canada to see if I could survive a week on my own. I’d wandered into a cabin full of vacationing hockey players after only a couple hours in the wild. I spent the whole week getting drunk, laughing my ass off, and having an amazing time.
Or there was that time in high school when I heard a girl from a school in the next county over had a thing for guys with British accents. I told her I was from London and spent a few days studying Harry Potter books to make sure my British slang was on point. It was a bloody good time, and I had no regrets.
We had a company app that gave the top executives access to a network of drivers in the city. Personally, I preferred the obnoxiousness of a helicopter, but I was close enough to the office that a car would be faster. I waited on a street corner in downtown Winston-Salem North Carolina and tapped through my phone to order a car. Five minutes. Not bad.
I kicked my feet up and leaned back on the bench while I waited. It was sunny, but there was a pleasant bite in the air that kept me from sweating.
I wondered if I’d pushed Elizabeth too far last night, or too soon. But nah. Chaos wasn’t all bad. People spent their whole lives trying to avoid it. They looked at a boring routine like some sort of ideal. It’s like people want to go mentally numb until time starts to slip by. Like they’re rushing toward adult diapers and dentures with a big black void where the memories of their life should be.
Luckily for Elizabeth, I wasn’t going to let her go down that road. I would be the forest fire in her forest—the destructive whirlwind to clear away all the clutter. I’d be the devilishly handsome flames to give her a scorching lick or two up those long legs.
I liked to keep a regular rotation of little “forest fires” going in my life, anyway. Sometimes, as common courtesy, I even set them off for other people. You could call me a generous soul. A philanthropic arsonist, of sorts. And this whole spontaneous fake relationship was an act of ultimate kindness by me. Because if anyone ever needed a fire under their tight, stick-stuffed ass, it was Elizabeth.
She’d stormed off after our lunch date and left me behind. But I recognized when people needed a little space. It was probably for the best. I’d have an easier time smoothing this over once she had some time to process. Besides, I needed to start thinking about colors for our future wedding. I was leaning toward cream and a deep purple, but my mind could be changed, so long as she wasn’t one of those all white wedding types. Then we’d have a healthy debate.
My driver arrived and whisked me off to our corporate offices on the East side of town.
If it was up to me, I would’ve taken a spontaneous vacation from work. This business with Elizabeth was highly entertaining already. But Adrian would probably make good on his threat if I put this off much longer. He’d show up and drag my ass into the office, so I might as well go on my own terms.
I spent most of the drive wondering if Elizabeth would actually move in with me. The dynamic with her mother had been as easy to read as a book. Elizabeth was the poor daughter desperate for her mother’s approval. Her mother was the hard-assed matron who gave out praise about as often as NFL officials admitted they made the wrong call. In other words, just about never.
In my expert opinion, Elizabeth had gone along with my bluff because she didn’t want to have to admit she’d been roped into something to her mother. That was some powerful thirst for approval, and I almost felt guilty for abusing it. Especially when I considered she might actually try to move into my place if her mother was going to pop by for visits. I grinned at that idea.
Maybe she could stay out of my bed for a while if she was in her own apartment. But if she was in my place all day, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
I gave the driver a generous tip, then headed inside.
Adrian Terranova didn’t know when to stop, and he had his hands in so many different business enterprises I stopped trying to keep track. Doing my job wasn’t really about details, anyway. They sent me in when relations were rocky, and someone needed to be charmed back into line. I liked to think of myself as the older sibling who was best at convincing our parents to extend our bedtime. Stubborn CEO doesn’t want to buy our product? Give me five minutes with him. Board members won’t approve our expansion plans? I just need a phone call. Congressman trying to pass a law to limit our operations? A quick chat and maybe a teensy little bribe. Easy.
