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Cat
“Good morning, Ms Fischer.” My assistant practically purred, running her eyes over me as I walked from the elevators towards my office door.
I was on fire today, burning hotter than hell. I’d picked out my boldest blood-red suit, paired with a black silk shirt, tight and loose in all the right places. Thank God for Gucci. Louis Vuitton provided the sharp black heels, making my calves pop through the suit.
My hair was in a tight bun, but come 5 pm, I was letting loose. A group of us were going for cocktails at Fitz’s later, our monthly tradition. I was dying for an espresso martini. Plus, I was getting laid. I had no concrete plans, but I could feel it in the air: today was going to be a good day.
Lucy held out a stack of memos as I reached her desk. “Your nine o’clock is already here. I asked them to stay in the waiting room until you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Lucy.” She was a cute, petite, and curvy woman with a fantastic sense of humour. She’d gone all out for tonight: a tight black dress with a collar and bow, beautiful golden hoop earrings, and matching eyeliner. She looked stunning. “Remind me who it is again.”
Lucy’s face sparkled as she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Bunny Collins and her fiancé.” She couldn’t have sounded more excited.
“Okay. Give me a few minutes, and send them in.”
I blew out a slow breath as I walked into my office. I really didn’t want to deal with Bunny so early in the morning; she was difficult at the best of times.
I’d taken this on as a favour to her, as she was my sister’s best friend. I normally point-blank refused to work with celebrities, but Bunny was part of the family. She said she wanted someone she could trust to handle her prenup.
I stepped through the door, grateful for the London skyline laying the backdrop to my classic office. The view from the floor-to-ceiling windows on the thirty-seventh floor was sensational and never failed to impress, especially with The Shard so close to our building. I felt like I was on top of the world, despite the thirteen floors above me.
They styled all the offices on this floor to match: plush navy carpets, oak panelling, and bookcases built into the walls, carrying endless tomes I rarely used. It was old school — regal and classic — none of that metal and glass modern bullshit for Harris, Walsh & Sons.
A cherry-wood coffee table sat between two leather couches in front of the door. My desk was situated further inside the room, allowing the clients to take in the view during meetings. If I was alone, I’d work on the sofa, heels off, kicking my feet up as I shuffled through documents. I preferred meeting in the morning so I could spend the afternoon ‘relaxing’.
The prenup shouldn’t take long to complete. Last week, Mum had dragged me along to another one of her luncheons where Bunny had whipped out the oversized pink diamond ring, instantly becoming the centre of attention. There’s nothing like ten socialites cooing endlessly for hours to make you want an experimental lobotomy. It was almost as bad as a baby shower. She didn’t drop a single hint of who her fiancé might be.
I reached my desk, powered up my computer, fished my phone out of my bag, and stored my stuff under the desk. There was no point sitting and getting comfortable. I needed to prepare myself for Bunny’s endless chattering.
She and my sister, Jasmine, had been best friends since they were six. They’d been steadily rising to stardom since becoming social media sensations in their teens. They also had their family’s money and prestige to back them up with things like Bunny’s line of designer dresses or Jazz’s acting career. Though Mum had used her acting clout to pull strings and get Jazz started, she was talented enough to make it on her own.
Copies of the prenuptial agreements were stored in my drawer, along with other standard contracts. I pulled out two sets and scanned them, making sure everything was in order. I’d edited them myself, but it always paid to double-check.
There was a rapid knock on the door before it shot open.
“Helloooo?” Bunny burst through in a flurry of blonde hair and excitement.
She ran in and launched herself at me, dragging me out from behind the desk, twirling me around like a doll before throwing out her arms and pinning me in a hug. She was tiny but strong, the top of her head just scraping my chin. Vanilla spice assaulted me. It was her signature scent, and she layered it on like icing.
“Oh my God, it issogood to see you! What’s it been, like, two days? I can’t believe this is where you work. It is sonice.Isn’t it nice, darling?”
“Charming.”
And there, leaning against my doorway like he was posing for a photoshoot, was the man I hoped I’d never meet again. Ripped jeans, doc martens, a leather vest covered in chains, with his trademark long black hair I used to love running through my fingers. His thick lips drenched in sex, with those kohled eyes that used to drive me wild in the night.
My heart dropped to my stomach at the sound of his voice, like deep caramel, burnt orange, and everything dark in this world.
Panic gripped me. I held onto Bun, watching him over my shoulder as I gathered my breath, everything suddenly clicking into place as my eyes locked onto her fiancé. It had annoyed me when she told us six months ago she was recording new music with his band. I didn’t think it would result in this.
Max was paler than I remembered, but he was still the same man who stamped on my heart and used it as a steppingstone to fame. A knowing smirk graced his lips as my mouth dropped open.
He'd always been stunning, but he’d somehow grown finer with age. His face was narrower, the scar that split his right eyebrow more vivid, and his lips looked sharper, especially without the black lipstick he used to wear when we were together. He nodded as I continued to stare at him, like he was acknowledging our past.
I’d left him ten years ago, dragging myself through the heartbreak to get to where I was today, determined our paths would never cross again.
I drew back from Bun, letting her natter on. She took my hands, not even realising how lost I was in his eyes. He held me captive with his gaze. I tried to breathe, tried to gain some sense of reality, but it hit me before I could stop it.
WHORE
