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Oh fuck. I cleared my throat loudly, shaking off her obvious rejection. “I do now. Ashlyn and Liam’s engagement party.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure we are both supposed to be there. I’m the bride’s aunt, and you are besties with the CEO.”
“Not besties. Men aren’tbesties.”
“Whatever. Don’t let that toxic masculinity choke you on my way out. I know you’re on the list.” Cici gave me a hard look, her cheeks suddenly pink. “Besides, Ashlyn says you don’t date.”
“I don’t,” I answered automatically, cringing internally at the reality of the answer.
Cici chuckled. “Well, that was honest.”
“Honesty is kind of my thing.” I licked my lips. “I guess I’ll see you tonight, then?”
Cici moved to the door, the curve of her ass in the perfectly tailored gray skirt drawing my gaze down her body. The tiniest pull of her lips made me wonder what she was thinking as those hauntingly beautiful eyes flickered over me once more. “I’ll be the one in the really great not-white dress.”
As soon as she left, the conference room felt cold and more than a little boring. I gathered up my notes and laptop before heading back down the hall to my office. I’d worked for Leden on and off for most of my career. Now, as the director of marketing, I supposed I should feel a type of ownership or power here.
But really, it was just part of the job. With Liam at the helm leading Leden into a new wave of development, most employees were buzzing about what was next. That was great for company morale, but in my opinion after a certain point, a cubicle was only a cubicle. I was always searching for the next challenge to keep myself entertained.
Tucking myself into my third-floor corner office, I cast a wry glance around the room, hoping for a distraction. I had emails to return, meetings to attend, and yet felt zero motivation. Propping up my heels on the edge of my desk, I grabbed a stress ball and began to work it through my hands.
How did Cici know I had a no-dating rule? Ashlyn was likely the source, but honestly I couldn’t discount Liam either. For all that he was a prickly son of a bitch, I liked our CEO very much. And I did consider him a good friend. Maybe not a “bestie” as Cici had assigned us, but as close as I let myself get.
That said, the man was a freaking loudspeaker after he’d had a couple of drinks. Half of San Francisco probably knew about Brady Martinez’s head trash about dating. I should not have been surprised Cici knew.
And I guess I hadn't been surprised; I had been bothered by it.
Not that it would have mattered, because I was in no place to go changing my ideology. Not even for her.
I squeezed the thick, spongy plastic between my fingers. I wasn’t ready to go down that road again. Maybe ever.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t daydream about the way she’d feel around me. Or the way her lips would’ve felt. I bet they tasted spicy, tangy, just like the woman attached to them. And that smile, the way her dark-blue eyes literally sparkled when something made her laugh.
It was addicting.
Which was precisely why I needed to stay away from Cecelia Grove. Even if it was the thing I wanted least in the entire world.
But that would have to start after tonight. Because tonight, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from searching her out at the party.
After all, what was a party without some fun?
Chapter 2
Cici
“You’ve got to be kidding me with that dress.”
The rumbling voice from behind me was instantly recognizable. I narrowed my eyes and swirled to meet the snapping dark eyes of Brady Martinez. For a moment, my voice caught in my throat as I scanned him over.
He’d changed out of his suit from earlier, wearing a fitted royal blue three-piece that outlined every once of the man’s many assets. I dragged my gaze up from where it’d dropped down the front of him, forcing myself to give up wondering what he’d look like from behind. The man wielded his good looks like a weapon, and I used mine like a shield. It was awfully fun.
Dropping a hip, I pretended to look over my dress as if I was worried that the tight, black, capped-sleeve piece wasn’t perfection itself. Which I wasn’t. With a smirk, I raised my brow. “Has it offended you in some way, Mr. Martinez?”
“Not at all. You look absolutely stunning, Cecelia,” Brady Martinez said smoothly, his white teeth peeking out from his utterly kissable lips as he gave me a smoldering smile. If I hadn’t just spent weeks arguing across a conference table with the man, I would’ve barely believed this flirtatious, smiling man was the same one I faced off with every morning.
Brady Martinez may be the head of Leden’s marketing department, but he was also the biggest and most attractive pain in the ass I’d ever met. The man had unreal expectations, an opinion on everything, and looked like a freaking cover model. Which, not shockingly, made it even more difficult to not just stare at him as he questioned and prodded my team.
Beginning on day one, I'd made it my ambition to have an answer, or at least a rebuttal, for every question, every push he had for Grove Communications. I was the owner, and I refused to take a single bit of his bullshit. I had worked too hard for too long for this opportunity with Leden to let this pretty boy stomp all over our process and ideas.
