Page 98 of The Playboy Project


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“And?” Ian prodded.

“I liked her. She was this beautiful, wholesome creature who wouldn’t have given me the time of day if she wasn’t doing it for her job. She made me realize how badly I wanted those things again. And then she kept calling me out, digging in deeper, and before I knew it wasn’t just the shareholders who thought things were real.”

My gaze slipped to his, and while his figure was a little blurry, a product of the drinks between us, I tried to convey the seriousness in my words. “I asked her for a chance, at something real.”

“So far I don’t see the problem.” Ian nudged the water in my direction again.

“I was stupid enough to think that it could be that good, that easy. I didn’t want to tell her how complicated it would be, how the morality rules in Leden might create a problem for us being a couple. Fortunately for me, my father is quite outgoing when he’s being an asshole. Sohedid. Their contract with Leden is absolutely necessary for Grove Communications to stay afloat.”

“Shit.” Ian’s curse was raw.

My throat felt surprisingly thick suddenly.

“Yeah, so there’s the thing. Either I find a way to convince her to stay together and she loses her family’s business, which inevitably would make her resent me forever. Or we break up and…” I trailed off.

Ian nodded. “And you miss out on what could’ve been.” Ian motioned to the bartender, asking for the bill, his credit card already between his fingers. “I’d ask you how you feel about her, but that seems like the most obvious part. Did you tell her how you felt at least?”

“Not like I should’ve.” Not like she had.

“But you’re in love with her, right? Because where I’m standing, it sure looks like it.”

Was I? Did I wake up every morning obsessed with how she felt against me? Was every other waking moment spent wondering about her? Did her smile literally make my heart feel like it was going to burst out of my chest?

Oh God.

“Fuck.” The realization came swooping over me, burning up my nerves with a level of clarity that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Too long.

“That’s what I thought. Hey, can we get some more water? To go maybe.” He held up my empty glass.

“Hey, Ian,” I say. My heart was pounding in my ears, but I’d never been more sure of something.

“Macklen?”

“I think I know what I want to do, and it’s really, really stupid.”

“God help us all. Count me in.” He slid the ice water between my hands with a half smile.

***

Ashlyn

Emma: Do you have a minute? I need…I mean NEED to get the update on tall, dark, and gorgeous!

Ashlyn: I’m not sure you can handle it.

Emma: Excuse me, lady. I was never this stingy with my sexy goodness when you were single and living vicariously through me.

Ashlyn: Give me 5 minutes. It warrants a real phone call.

Emma: Damn. I’m going to pop some popcorn. Don’t start without me.

I slapped another spoonful of peanut butter on sandwich bread, shoving the remnants in my mouth with a sigh. I almost wished I had told Emma I was busy. Even days after the Macklen gala fiasco, I wasn’t sure how I felt. Some moments, I burned with rage at all of it. Then I cried. For someone who usually valued my emotional clarity, I was a mess.

How had it only been two weeks since I’d barged into his office and changed everything? Now stupid, insignificant things reminded me of him. And apparently my apartment had been become one of those things, because as much as I’d wanted to go home, I now hated being there alone. There wasn’t enough true-crime TV in the universe to take my mind off the fact that I’d fallen straight in love with my client. Or enough wine to wash away the memory of him casting me out of his life for good.

He’d made his choices. And now we were both living with them.

My phone buzzed, drawing my eyes in surprise. I check it to be sure it wasn’t Carter or Cici or even my parents calling. Nope. It was Liam.

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