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CHAPTER FOUR
Ashlyn
I’d said yes. Not just to anyone, but to freaking Liam Macklen. I’d let his emails and texts disarm me, and now I was going to spend tomorrow night at his home, eating dinner. I was going to need to bring my whole arsenal of spine-stiffening questions and professional airs. I scrubbed my face, thankful I’d been too lazy to put on makeup today.
This was why I didn’t play with playboys. I didn’t even need the files from Luna. It’d taken all of ten minutes on Google to recognize that Liam Macklen had spent the years leading up to his taking on the mantle of Leden Co, knee deep, and probably dick-deep, in nightlife in town.
I’d also learned he was a shocking six foot three inches tall. He went to UCLA. He ate a lot of late-night pizza. And his closest friend was his iPhone.
Oh and he was stupidly good-looking in every single picture. My eye was starting to twitch. At this rate, it was going to become chronic. I forced myself to stop scrolling online images and focus on the matter at hand. It almost worked.
“I am getting way too invested in this man, and not in the way Cici wanted me to. Three weeks, Ashlyn. Three weeks,” I said aloud, the empty walls of my house echoing the sound. I grimaced. I’d gotten to the point where I was talking to myself. Not great. I definitely should’ve gone into the office today instead of staying home. But after yesterday, I wasn’t sure what to tell Cici if I ran into her there.
Now I had even less of an idea.
After picking up and putting down my phone another three times, I decided to do something to occupy my time. Swiping through my favorites, I pressed Call by Emma Hansen.
“Emma here.” My best friend’s cheerful voice chased away my dread instantly. Not for the first time, I wished that we were back in college, sharing a bunk bed and packets of ramen.
“Hey lady, what are you up to? Are you still at work?” I could hear the rumbling of voices around. Not surprising, as it was—I flick my wrist to check the time on my watch. It was almost nine at night. Not exactly the best time to call your best friend and beg for their attention. Especially when said best friend had a real day job. And probably a real social life.
Like I used to have. Like I still probably should. I curled my toes into the roughly shorn edges of the builders-grade gray carpet as I padded across the room to my couch.
I missed my apartment in LA too, but that was a whole other story. When Cici called, I moved into the first apartment that I found that was economically sound and looked remotely attractive.
What I actually ended up leasing was far from either of those things. But maybe if I nailed this whole Leden job, I could upgrade.
“Do you want the long version or the short?” Emma responded. The soft breaths against the phone made me picture her walking the halls, trying to find a quiet room to duck into.
I glared at my laptop screen. No unread messages. I slapped it shut then sprawled over sideways on the couch, covering my hot face with a pillow. “Definitely the long one.”
“That’s what she said.”
I laughed. “Emma, please, distract me from the pitiful black hole that is my social life. And personal life. And professional life. I’m begging.”
Emma was an event manager in Los Angeles and had no shortage of insanity that came with her job. It was easily our favorite thing to do as long-distance besties, or LDBs. “‘That's what she said’ jokes don’t do it for you anymore?”
I groaned into the accent pillow. “No, I need more today.”
“Damn, it must be bad, then. Okay, I’ve got a good one for you. I’ve been saving it for exactly this type of moment.” Then Emma launched into her latest drama, the wedding event that had taken a horrific turn when the groom cheated on the bride with one of his groomsmen. By the time I hung up with her an hour later, I was feeling much better and much less anxious about my upcoming dinner with Liam Macklen.
The man had asked me to dinner. To discuss work. Putting his flirtatious nature aside, it really wasn’t a big deal. Emma had proven once more that there were much bigger fish to fry out there than a little crush on the sexy almost-CEO who was currently my client. After all, as a client he was bonafide off-limits anyway. It was time to get over myself and get my head ready for the next three weeks.
Grabbing the files that Luna had prepped, I got started on the Leden company records, mission statements, and other details that I would be incorporating into Liam’s new public look. Hours later, I was ready to crash into bed. After stealing away to the kitchen for a scoop of peanut butter, I blurrily snatched my phone off the charger and quickly read through my notifications.
There were a lot. All from Cici.
Shit.
Cici: Your boy is on the move.
Cici: Like a lot.
Cici: Hello, are you paying attention? I thought he agreed to a change in life choices?
Cici: Ashlyn, get ahold of this.
Shoot. I swiped the messages open to reveal screenshot after screenshot of Liam Macklen, my supposedly obedient project, getting out of his car at a local club. He was dressed in black slacks and a black button-down that was open deep at the collar. His perfectly tamed scruff looked rough as one hand ran over the crisp edge of his jaw. Of course local influencers and bloggers were already tagging him at one of his local clubs.
