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ind myself watching the two of them and questioning everything about why we’re together.
How could he possibly be with me when he’s had her?
“Milana, did you jot that down?”
Emerson breaks my dysfunctional trance, thankfully, and brings me back to the reason why we’re all here.
This lawsuit means I will be working nonstop, retrieving necessary documents for the court case, working with Emerson on fast-tracking the new line and making sure her schedule is freed up to focus only on this.
Charlie makes it clear that Wesley and Emerson need to unite to build the brand and make it stronger. Sonia, the wicked publicist from the west, is placed on a conference call and lists all the events she wants the two of them to attend.
“No,” Emerson states, quick to shut her down. “I don’t see why we need to attend anything together.”
“Emerson, sweetheart, this brand needs to show a united front. Now isn’t the time for Wesley to be a silent partner. Okay, look… maybe the red-carpet stuff can be just you. But if I can get a slot to the business convention we discussed a few weeks back, the both of you will need to present.”
Lifting my eyes, trying not to draw attention to my gaze, my regard wanders from Charlie to Wesley. In front of him sits an empty coffee cup and his cell. I only notice now that it begins to light up with text after text popping up on his screen. He glances down, scanning the messages before raising his eyes back to look at Emerson, not me.
My stare moves quickly back to my notepad, the same time my stomach begins to harden, followed by a wave of nausea.
How did I get myself here? So easily become intimate with a man—more than any man—and have no clue who he actually is?
Despite what I read online about him, those texts could easily be from women who he sees on the side. It’s not a far-fetched thought because let’s face it, women throw themselves at him. What about that Farrah Beaumont.
Am I that stupid to have jumped into a relationship with this man so quickly?
Questions, endless questions.
“Let’s reschedule New York for next week. Perfect, I guess, since Logan’s in town and can take care of Lola.”
“Next week?” I ask, forgetting for a moment Wesley’s sitting across from me.
“Yes, sorry, is that okay?” Emerson asks.
“Of course.” I smile, purposely meeting his gaze.
Wesley taps his fingertips on the table, leaning back in his chair with a slightly annoyed glare.
“Thank God.” Emerson smiles with relief. “Vancouver we can bring forward to the following Saturday. Actually, why don’t we go straight from New York? Let’s get it out of the way. I’ll have Logan meet us there.”
“Sounds like a plan—”
“Shoot!” she exclaims, worried. “There’s that meeting in Portland the following week.”
“Don’t worry, I can go. It might work out well. I plan to head back home for two days anyway, so I might swing it afterward if you don’t mind? I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery.”
“My God, no. You’re saving my life right now. Go see your family or boyfriend… what’s his name again?”
I cough, almost choking at her bringing Liam up. “Um… Liam.”
“That’s right.” Charlie smiles, rather cheekily. “How could we forget?”
Wesley slams his fist on the table, eyes blazing right at me. “Are we done discussing Milana’s personal life? I also have better things to do.”
“Like what?” I bite back, folding my arms.
My forwardness throws him a curveball, his expression turning from anger to annoyance in a matter of seconds.
This game we play—it’s deadly.
