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I tip my chin in answer, not sure I’ll like what he has to say.
“Why?”
“Why?” I frown.
“Why Scarlet?”
What sort of question is that? “I’ve met her a handful of times. It’s not a thing.”
Fuck if I don’t want it to be, though.
To know a little more.
One more night.
“It’s not serious?”
I keep my face neutral. “No.”
“Then why are you checking your phone in meetings and huffing like a child when your notifications are empty?—don’t answer that,” he snaps, impatient. “Sullivan, you can stick your dick in whoever you want. You’re a big boy. I happen to trust your stupid ass not to fuck this up. Just pull your shit together and spare me the details.”
I follow him out of the lift and catch up with him in the corridor. Once a week, we meet for lunch in Mason’s office. Charlie’s firm is in a building only a short walk away from the Montwell, so if he isn’t knee-deep in a case, he makes the walk over.
I look up at the hard-faced lawyer many fear—he’s a teddy bear really. Soft prick. My lip curls as I ask, “So, should I call her?”
He shakes his head and pushes into Mason’s office.
He’s on the phone when we enter, and we make ourselves comfortable on the sofas while we wait. And like they have for the past two days, my thoughts quickly drift to Scarlet. I pull up the messages I sent.
Asshole CFO: Cinderella forgot her knickers
I attached a picture of her lace underwear. They’re now washed and lying in my nightstand.
When she didn’t reply all day yesterday, my message not even being read, I texted her again early this morning.
Asshole CFO: I’m adding rude to your list. Don’t make me add stalker to mine.
I opted to run the five miles to work after that, desperate to shake off the thoughts and feeling that I had so much more to say to her.
I asked her so many questions.
I lay with her without needing to fuck her.
I told her about my dad.
“Sullivan, what are you eating?”
I swipe out of my messages and look up at my friends’ eyes, all now focused on me.
“Hurry up, asswipe. I’ve got a meeting in half an hour,” Mason snaps.
“I’ll have whatever the special is.” I wonder what her favourite food is…
Asshole CFO: What’s your favourite food?
I’ve got to get a hold of myself.
I knew she’d be poison.
