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“Damon—” Callum chases after me. “—I’m sorry, Holly’s exhausted. She’s not normally like this.”
“Your wife isn’t my problem.” I walk through the female restroom doors to a few gasps.
“What are you doing here?” Ava snaps at me when I pause beside her in front of the mirror. “It’s called the female restroom for a reason. Can’t you do the math?”
Her pride is visibly hurt, and as I turn her to face me, she covers herself up. There’s no one left in here but us, and it bothers me that she’s embarrassed in front of me when I’ve fucked her in a public place and at the office.
“Here—” I take a step back. “—have mine.”
“Wha-what the hell are you doing?”
“Giving you the shirt off my back.”
Her already flushed complexion reddens a little more.
“Come on, little mouse…” I pull my long-sleeved T-shirt off and hold it up to her. “I’ve seen your cunt, Ava. Tits aren’t going to make a difference now.” Not to her at least, but a stolen glimpse has my heart jackhammering into my ribs, rushing my blood south of my belt.
Ava practically chokes at my words, but when the door opens, she takes my offering and runs into one of the cubicles.
Lacie walks in with a green and blue sports top dangling in her hand.
“Holy shit!” she blurts, freezing in her tracks. Her eyes roam up and down my body. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Feel free to keep going. I can take it.”
“Lace?” Ava calls from the stall. “What the fuck just happened?”
“Holly Warner happened,” Lacie replies bitterly, finding the cubicle and letting herself in. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“She’s Callum’s wife. Of course it’s my fault.” There’s a heavy sigh, and then the shirt she took in comes flying through the gap over the door. “Feel free to leave it off!”
“Lacie!” Ava’s bitten whisper is audible through her friend’s laughter.
“What? He’s got a hot bod…”
“Bad, bad, Lacie!”
“Excuse me, I’m not the one that fucked it in public.”
“Oh my God, shut up!”
I pull the top on, trying not to laugh at their conversation. The damn thing is so tight that the seams look set to tear at any given moment. Before Ava dies of embarrassment, I walk out of the restroom, messaging my driver to let him know we’re leaving.
Warner is waiting outside, his wife nowhere in sight.
“Listen, I want to have the meeting with you before I have to get back. I have a few other agents booked in, but I’d like to hear your pitch.”
“I’ll see what we can do to make it happen.”
“I’m heading home, and if you and Ava would like to join us in the Hamptons, Holly and I would love to have you stay for a couple of days.”
“How far are you into the book?”
“It’s done. I didn’t write it. Words aren’t my thing.”
“Yeah?”
