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I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “You’re not wearing your glasses. Plus, there’s no need for flattery, you know you’re getting lucky tonight.”
His smile grew large. “I can see just fine,” he said, poking me with his finger. His gaze panned across my desk and settled on my Pantone book. He fanned out the colours and ran his fingers over the different shades. “This reminds me of your hair,” he said, leaning closer to my ear. “…spread over my pillow while I’m fuc—”
His voice halted when Adam walked into the room. Grayson stood up straight and moved away from my desk. “Great work as usual.” He shifted his gaze to his brother. “Were you looking for me?”
“No, actually. I was hoping to have a word with Josie.”
Grayson’s eyes narrowed as he nodded, and reluctantly left my office. I leant back in my chair and looked up at Adam curiously.
“How’s that article coming along?” he asked, with his hands sitting casually in his pockets.
“Great actually. I should have the first draft to Marlene by tomorrow.”
He nodded, but he didn’t appear to hear what I said. “Listen, I’ve been given an extra ticket to see Magnus Brayshaw tonight, so I thought, considering you’re already going, that we could go together.”
“I don’t know.” I glanced nervously into Grayson’s office. “I wouldn’t be much company. All I do is take photos and write notes.”
“That’s totally fine. I’ll pick you up at 8pm. We’ll grab a bite to eat beforehand.”
He left the office before I had a chance to respond.
A few seconds later my computer chimed breaking me from my daze.
W. HARLOW: What did he say to you? You look like you’re in shock?
J. SPENCER: I am.
W. HARLOW: ???
J. SPENCER: I think your brother just asked me out.
W. HARLOW: And what did you say?
J. SPENCER: He didn’t give me a chance to say anything. Apparently he’s picking me up at 8pm.
I flinched as something clattered to the floor in Grayson’s office.
W. HARLOW: Don’t go.
J. SPENCER: I have to. It’s my job. You have nothing to worry about.
Dinner with Adam wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I prepared myself for his infamous womanising ways and kept our discussion strictly business related. He seemed content to talk about work, so I continued to throw questions at him to avoid any coming back my way.
At the realisation he wasn’t getting anywhere with me, he called for the bill early and we arrived at the gig sooner than planned.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked as we walked into the venue.
“Um, water is fine. I don’t drink when I’m working,” I replied, pulling out my camera.
“You can relax a little, you know. I won’t tell the boss.” He winked at me and I laughed at his blatant attempt to flirt. Adam smiled at the perceived encouragement.
I grimaced. “No really, water is fine.”
As I walked around the venue, trying to find the best position, Adam ordered my water and a whiskey for himself and brought it over. He passed the glass and I took a long sip. Anything to avoid talking.
“So, how long have you been a fan of Magnus?” I asked.
“Who?” he replied, a line forming between his eyes.
