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Dad is ignoring me, Mom pretty much told me she needed time to forgive me, and Lacie hmms and ahs during our conversations. I’m on my own, and surprisingly, I’m surviving. No thanks to Damon and his constant demand to know where I am on Callum Warner.
The answer: right where I was when Lacie told me that if I wanted to be considered I’d have to work like every other agent approaching them. Again, no thanks to Damon. Her hate of him and his guts is feral. And completely warranted.
Lacie’s become a stumbling block as far as Warner is concerned, but I’ve found a possible resolution.
It’s taken me long enough. I blow out a hopeful breath as I close my MacBook and slip it into my purse.
“Do you ever use the door?” Damon calls from my open doorway.
He’s standing tall and broad, his black tailored suit and light blue shirt molded to his chiseled body. The shirt is so light that it’s more like a blue-tinged white, bringing out the golden undertone of his skin and the pink in his lips.
My mouth waters as I take him in with an overpowering swoop of my stomach that causes me to tense all over. Like I’m physically hungry for him.
“I open and close it occasionally,” I tell him, slipping my white suit jacket over my nude lace camisole. “Typically, I open it in the mornings and close it when I leave. Does that answer your question, Mr. Coldwell?”
We’re treading a thin line since fuck-gate or fuck-gate-the-second. Or rather since I walked out of his office trying not to look like I’d had seven shades of Wednesday fucked out of me.
Damon is like a car wreck. I don’t want to look at him. Let alone acknowledge him. I don’t want to want him. But I can’t help myself on any of those fronts.
My world would be better off without him. And yet, I can’t imagine it without him. There’s something about this man that brings out the parts of me that aren’t the prettiest but make me stronger nonetheless.
Still, I’ll never admit that, not in a million years.
My nude stilettos drum on the concrete floor as we walk side by side to the elevator. Damon has his typical “I own everything” swagger on—hands in his pockets, straight face, eyes taking everything in. A king looking over his kingdom and its subjects.
“You don’t have to come,” I tell him as we wait for the elevator.
I don’t know why he’s insisting on coming to my lunch meeting with Robert, but it’s annoying the crap out of me.
He turns his face to look at me, eyes raking over me from head to toe. “But I do.”
“Oh my God!” He’s jealous. “Robert is old enough to be my father.” I turn to face him, and his eyes go to the low V of my top that peeks from the blazer. “Scratch that, he’s old enough to be my grandfather.”
“Your point?”
“My point is…” How do I say this without sounding like an idiot?
He takes a step back and waits for me to finish with an amused quirk of his lips. “Well?”
“You and I…we’re not a thing, and you have no right to be jealous…or whatever.”
The doors ding, and the drop of his grin is followed by a stern “Shut up, get in.”
I do as he says because I don’t have another option if I’m getting to my meeting on time. Once the doors close, I stand as far from him and his brooding as possible. Trying to stop the satisfaction of his non-admission admission showing on my face.
“If the only reason you’re coming is becau—”
“I’m coming because if you’re incapable of landing Warner, I want to make sure you don’t fuck things up with Rhodes.” His offhanded cutoff lands in the pit of my stomach with a sickening crash. All satisfaction fades completely, replaced by irritation.
However, I refuse to let him get the better of me and bite my tongue. We both know I am the reason Robert is with CPM, not because of any of the other shit Damon threw at him during the contract meeting. And after today, Warner should happen a lot quicker because of my proactive thinking.
* * *
We’re fifty-six floors above New York City. The music is getting louder as the lights get dimmer, and we’re finally done going over the publishing schedule that I’ve worked on with the production and publicist departments. Right on time for summer break.
“Is everything okay?” Robert asks while Damon is taking a call.
Right on time, Lacie walks in with Callum Warner at her side. Thank God for social media.
