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“Catherine,” he says reverently.
I shake my head with a smile. He’s spent half a second with her, and he’s already giving away my secrets.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asks with a frown.
He shakes his head and then looks to me for help.
“Kitten”—I turn on my most charming smile as I approach—“this is Ivan. He makes the waffles you love,” I say, nodding to the table.
Her face scrunches in confusion as she stares at the breakfast food. Then she turns back to Ivan. “Have we met before?” she asks, still lost.
He looks at me again. Like he doesn’t know which way I want him to spin things. But all anyone is going to get from me is the truth. I’m tired of secrets and lies. I press closer to her so the employees mingling around us can’t hear and whisper, “He owns the waffle stall we went to the day I first kissed that perfect fucking mouth.”
She stiffens next to me.
“To this day, it’s the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” I say with a sly grin and a wink as I pull back.
She’s still silent, but her breathing is more erratic, and her chest rises and falls quickly.
“Your mouth; not the waffles,” I clarify. Then I spin on my heel and stride to my spot at the front of the conference table. “Okay, everyone,” I call, “grab some breakfast and take your seats.”
Across the room, Cat’s frozen, but she’s watching me with an intensity I haven’t seen from her in years. Sophie squeezes her arm, and finally, she comes back to the room, suddenly very aware of her surroundings. Once she’s got her bearings, she narrows her eyes and glares at me.
I can’t help it. I have to laugh at her reaction. It may take some time, but it’s obvious after that small exchange that I still affect her just as she affects me. And until she’s mine again, at least I can tease her as if she is. She’s always been my favorite thing to play with. And God, is this fucking fun.
11
IT AIN’T ME BY SELENA GOMEZ
Cat
Eyeing Jay over my coffee, I lean back in my chair and listen to him formally introduce himself to the staff. His attempt to ingratiate them with his breakfast spread missed the mark by a mile. Almost no one has taken a pastry. Even the fruit remains mostly untouched.
This is a fashion magazine. We may tout that we focus on real women, but in the end, we still work in an industry that expects us to look a certain way. No one in this room would dare to entertain the calories laid out before them in front of others.
As he speaks, Jay looks at the pastries every few seconds, as if willing someone to take one. If it were anyone but him, I’d feel bad, and I’d probably take one for the team and dig in.
In all honesty, my mouth is watering over the damn waffles. Unlike when I was younger, I don’t allow my grandmother’s comments to sway my feelings on food. I have curves and cellulite and I don’t give a shit. I also have a c-section scar that takes creativity to hide, since no one knows I had a child.
Speaking of—when I break free from the thoughts swirling in my mind and look to the front of the room, her father is watching me. What exactly is his game? Bringing the waffles from our “first date,” the iPod, the songs…I can’t figure him out.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering who will be taking over as editor in chief with the news that Cynthia is retiring.”
At that comment, every person in the room sits up a little straighter. Except Sophie and me, of course. She’s the only one at the table who’s dared to take a pastry, and instead of focusing on Jay, she’s humming over how good her donut is.
Though she has no idea she’s missing out. The waffles are delicious. I glance in their direction longingly, but I refuse to give Jay the satisfaction.
“The decision has been left to me as the new owner ofJolie, and I have a plan in place that I think you’ll all find fair.”
Sophie snorts beside me, and I have to press my lips together to hide my own laughter at her outburst.
“Something funny?” Jay asks.
With an innocent tilt of her head, Sophie goes in for the kill. It’s always fun watching her take people apart. I’m downright giddy to have a front-row seat when her victim is Jay. “Just trying to figure out what qualifies you to make the decision about who should run awomen’smagazine.”
Jay licks his lips. “I happen to love women.”
This time, I don’t even try to hold back my laughter. “That’s for damn sure,” I mutter under my breath. Every person in this room has seen Jay with a different woman on his arm in every one of our issues. He was the worst type of ghost over the years, appearing everywhere, making it so he haunted me when all I wanted was to live in the present and ignore the ghosts of my past.
