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Reece, with a narrowed gaze, turns toward his mother. “Mother? I wasn't aware we could keep sending our writers abroad for extended periods. We already did that with Robyn. But, we can discuss this later, outside of the party.”
Gregor smoothly intervenes and suggests, "Absolutely. Let's conduct the interview right here in New York." There’s no need for unnecessary travel.”
Feeling somewhat embarrassed by Reece’s assertive demeanor, I quickly add, “I’ll get in touch with your team after the new year to set up our meeting for February.”
“That sounds like a solid plan,” Gregor agrees, handing me his business card. I discreetly slip it into my handbag, aware of Reece eyeing every detail of the exchange like a hawk.
Mr. and Mrs. Forrester, observing the interaction, seem to find some amusement in the unfolding scene. As Gregor politely excuses himself and leaves in the opposite direction, Mr. Forrester turns to his wife.
“Darling, perhaps we should rejoin our guests. It is a celebration, after all,” he says to Rachael. She nods in agreement. “Yes, let's. Happy New Year, everyone. Genesis, I'm eagerly anticipating the work you'll do with the series this year. And do join us for dinner sometime, maybe before yourpotentialtrip to Scotland?”
I reply cautiously, “Yes, Rachael, thank you.” I'm careful not to say anything more, noting Reece’s growing frustration.
As they blend back into the crowd, Talon, Reece and I remain standing. Talon, with an eye roll, voices his thoughts. “What the hell was that all about?”
Addressing Reece, but wondering myself, I ask, “What's going on here?”
Irritation tinges Reece's response. “Our mother is always plotting. Business never takes a break, not even for holidays.”
Trying to lighten the mood, Talon jokingly adds, “Yeah, looks like she’s trying to set you up with Greg, Gen—” He stops abruptly, sensing the tension from both Reece and me.
“Talon, now is not the time,” I respond, slightly annoyed, as Reece sharply tells his brother, “Enough, Talon.”
“Alright-alright, I'm out,” Talon says, backing away from the conversation. “Catch you two later.”
Reece watches him go, then turns back to me, his expression a complex mix of frustration and contemplation.
* * *
Reece
I can't help but look at Genesis, dressed in a plum-colored cocktail dress that accentuates her figure perfectly. It's alluring and undeniably sexy, fitting for a New Year's event. The dress, with its low neckline and hem just above her knee, clings to her in all the right places, stirring something primal within me. A low, involuntary growl escapes my throat, an expression of a desire so raw and unfiltered. But Genesis isn’t in the mood for my neanderthal antics; her annoyance is evident, and I know I’ve overstepped.
“We need to talk,” I insist, attempting to guide her away from the party. The Hamptons mansion, swanky and opulent, buzzes with the energy of the New Year’s celebration. Guests are mingling, champagne glasses clinking, and laughter fills the air, starkly contrasting the tension between us.
“No,” she hisses back, her voice low enough for only me to hear amid the noise. “And stop looking at me like that, Reece!” she demands.
“Like what?” I ask, though I know exactly what she means. I've been glaring at her like a man possessed, like someone who's seen her in the most intimate way. And now, every part of me yearns to relive those moments.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about. You’re looking at me like you’ve seen me naked,” she retorts, her frustration evident.
“Well, Ihave. Andnow, I want another taste,” I say, perhaps too audaciously.
“Shhh!” she chides, grabbing my arm and swiftly pulling me away from the crowd. We make our way out of the house, trying to be discreet, but her frustration is palpable. “How dare you talk to me like that in mixed company?” she mutters, dragging me into the chilly December night.
"How dare you make me want you?" I challenge her, my voice is raw with anger and desire. I'm barely aware of our surroundings, not caring who hears us. "You drive me insane, Genesis. It's your fault that my pants are suddenly too tight." I catch her glance flickering to my crotch, where my growing erection presses uncomfortably against my fly.
"Why would you wear something like that?" I can't stop my eyes from roaming over her curves. I take a step closer, and she shivers. Is she cold, or is it because of my proximity? When she gasps, her breath forms a cloud in the chilly air.
"Like what?" Her eyes flash with indignation. I reach for her arm, but she pulls away.
"You know exactly what I mean, Genesis. Stop pretending." I'm growing more agitated by the second.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Reece."
"Ofcourse, you don't. Oblivious to the effect you have on men...onme." My voice is a growl. "If you were mine, I swear, I wouldn't let you—"
"Letme!?" Her voice is almost a screech as she jabs a finger into my chest. She's ready to tear into me.
