9. Nine
Nine
DYLAN
Monday
I n sharp contrast to the past few days, the sun was shining brightly and the air was warm. I'd woken early, my mind heavy with the memories of the night before.
Brax has a girlfriend. Of course, look at him , the bitch inside me screamed.
I hadn’t slept well. My mind had spun like a record, overloaded with thoughts of Brax and Zack.
Fucking men. God, they suck.
Clearly, I was going insane.
But if there was ever a day that I needed to leave the crazy at the door, it was this day. My mind needed to be completely functional for the meeting with Omega Developments.
And if there was one thing I was a black belt at, it was compartmentalizing.
Steven and I were meeting with the executive team—those responsible for hiring Gellar and Summers to design the bridal store headquarters. The pre-planning for the Studio Pase project had been six months in the making, so finally being at this stage felt like an achievement in itself. If I played this right, Omega could become a long term client, giving me the opportunity to flex my design talents across multiple projects, bringing me one step closer to one day working for myself.
So stop thinking about fucking your ex.
Wearing a structured, all black, high neck mini-dress with long sleeves, clear wedge heels and with my long, black hair styled in a high, slicked back ponytail, I slid my iPad into my black Givenchy tote.
Spritzing myself with Armani Si, I checked myself out in the mirror before heading out the door.
It was giving assassin.
I wish Brax could see me looking like this .
My thoughts had continuously wound up coming back to him because of course they had .
***
Strolling into the lobby, I spotted the most insufferable human on the planet holding two coffees.
Steven.
Dressed in a shitty gray designer suit, he extended a latte towards me.
“Oat milk latte, extra hot, for the lady,” he said, passing me my coffee.
“Thanks,” I replied, taking an immediate sip. I was going to need thirty coffees to get me through the morning. “Want me to order a car?”
Steven winked at me. “Already got one on the way.”
“Well done. Want a medal?”
“Just a kiss.”
Ew. It was too early for that shit. I would sooner fall into a pit of Black Mamba snakes than ever kiss that man. I needed to steer the conversation away from where it was heading. I didn’t want to get into an argument with him before this important meeting. “We’re meeting these guys at their office right? Not on site?”
“Yep, office. Meeting with Greg Fowler, the CEO and owner of Omega,” Steven said, as if I needed reminding. He took a gulp of his coffee, and some of it dripped down his chin. How this mess of a man had become a decorated architect was beyond me. “He’s insistent on having his project managers present for this initial chemistry meeting.”
What an absurd term. A “chemistry meeting.”
In other words, it was a meeting to see if they liked us enough to work together. Normally, this meant a lot of small talk and a lot of ass kissing on Steven’s end. He took everything personally because his self worth was directly tied to his success. I'd always felt sorry for people who didn't have an identity outside of their job.
Except for Steven. I didn't feel anything except disgust towards him.
“If you’re nervous, just stand there and look pretty,” he flashed me a cheesy, slimy smile. “Which should be easy for you. Let me do the talking.”
Giving him a filthy look, I imagined how satisfying it would be to spit my coffee on him. He thought he was funny, but really he was a chauvinistic cunt.
“It’s really amazing you’ve never been done for harassment, Steven.”
“It’s not harassment if you like it.”
He was vile. Exhausting, and truly vile. Didn't this prick realize we were living in a post “Me Too” era? I decided to give him a little taste of the uber-bitch inside of me.
“No wonder your wife left you.”
His ego made him laugh, but I knew I'd hurt him. His swagger significantly decreased. “Ouch, so mean. You've got a filthy mouth for someone who is so gorgeous."
Cringing, I ignored him and headed outside. I’d rather wait alone for the car then spend one more minute talking to this cretin.
***
The Omega headquarters was an industrial yet luxurious looking, three-story office building, nestled between a park and a high rise in the heart of the city. Walking into the foyer, a kind-eyed, middle-aged receptionist greeted us warmly.
“You must be from Gellar and Summers,” she stated, her hand extended. “I’m Caroline. Greg and the team won’t be too much longer.”
She gestured to the waiting area. “Please take a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?”
“No thank you, we’re fine.”
The foyer was airy and spacious, with past development projects framed on the wall. The quality of the builds was exquisite. After making myself familiar with my surroundings, I checked my phone. I was secretly hoping to see a text message from Brax.
Nothing.
My heart sank a little.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting.
Maybe a flirty text? I hadn’t text him either though, so, there was that .
An intercom buzzed. Caroline answered the internal call and quietly hung up.
“Dylan, Steven? Greg and his team are ready for you. Please, follow me.”
Caroline led us down a short hallway, opening double doors to reveal a large, yet typical-looking, conference room.
Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the park, took up an entire wall. A giant twelve seater boardroom table was in the center of the room, with a flat screen TV mounted to the far wall.
Greg and his team were standing as Steven and I made our way in. Pleasantries were exchanged as we took our seats around the huge oak table. Greg was the last to take his seat.
Reaching for the water jug, he let us know that we were waiting for his builder to join, who should arrive any minute.
I suggested that I connect my iPad to the TV. "I can pull up the renders and have them ready to talk through.”
“Of course,” Greg pointed towards the console underneath the TV. “Instructions on how to connect to the wifi are there.”
“Thanks.”
I stood and walked towards the front of the room. The Omega team were talking amongst themselves. I felt Steven staring at my ass as I typed in the incredibly difficult wifi password. Everything in my life was complicated. Passwords included.
Connection unsuccessful.
Dammit, I entered it incorrectly.
Placing the iPad down onto the console, I checked the combination of numbers, lower and upper case letters, and started again. I was in the middle of my third password attempt when I heard the boardroom door open. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Something had changed.
The energy shift was confirmed when a deep, familiar voice said, “Morning everyone.”
No.
Fucking.
Way.
Spinning around to face the mystery voice, I was almost rendered unconscious as I realized it was Brax.
Standing there.
At my meeting.
With my client.
Blinking a few times just to ensure I wasn’t seeing things, my eyes followed him around the room as he greeted the people he clearly already knew well, because he fucking worked with them.
Holy hell.
Brax was the builder for Studio Pase. Which meant he was technically my client.
Why hadn’t he told me he was contracted to Omega?
Brax extended a hand towards Steven who looked confused as he attempted to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“You look familiar. Have we met?” Steven asked, his eyebrows knitted together. As if he didn't remember. Brax is the sort of person you don't forget meeting, even if you're a man.
“Yeah. Lobby bar at The Dalton. Murder for hire, remember? I’m an old friend of Dylan’s.” Brax replied, looking over to acknowledge me with a disgustingly sweet smile.
I was rooted to the floor, my mouth open, staring. I didn’t know if I was going to throw up or pass out.
Possibly both, in that order.
I also didn’t know if I want to kill him or fuck him, because if I had thought he looked hot last night, then this was a whole new level of sexy.
Black tailored pants, white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm, showing off his tattoos, his thick dark hair styled neatly. He gave off rich mafia vibes, but without the murderous energy.
Finally, I finished inputting in the wifi code correctly and took my seat directly opposite Brax.
“Dylan, how are you?” he asked me professionally, ocean eyes cool as a cucumber.
Meanwhile, I was sweating, like I was standing on the surface of the sun.
It took me a few seconds to register that I could indeed speak English and that now would be a good time to do so. “Great, thanks Brax.”
I felt embarrassed at the tone of my voice. It was five octaves higher than usual as I tried to control my shock and surprise at Brax's presence.
I wondered if anyone could pick up on the sexual tension between the two of us. It was sparking to life, sizzling, just underneath the surface.
There was a beat as Greg glanced between Brax and me. If he noticed the connection between us, he didn’t let on. Thank god. If I hadn’t been concerned about overstepping boundaries before, then I sure as shit was now. How long would we be able to withstand temptation if we were working together?
I was so fucked.
“Now that we’re all here, Dylan and Steven, I’d like to introduce you to my team who will be working alongside you on the Studio Pase build,” Greg said by way of kicking off the meeting. “Brax, glad you’re already acquainted with Dylan as you’re going to be working very closely with her on this project.”
Brax had the biggest shit eating grin on his face.
I wanted to kick in his stunningly white teeth.
Why hadn’t he given me the heads up?
Brax leaned back in his chair and braced his arms on the armrests. Casual, cool, like all of this was totally normal.
“Pleasure’s all mine.”
Yep, I was going to kill him.
“Great," Greg smiled. "Dylan, would you show us the renders please?”
Brax and I locked eyes and I gave him a tight smile.
A smirk threatened to creep across his face, before he swallowed it away. His eyes dropped to my chest and he bit his bottom lip. My breasts felt heavy under his molten stare.
He was clearly loving this. Toying with me.
Lucky for him, I loved the game.
I shifted my focus to the flat screen mounted to the wall and began to showcase the renders.
It was time to go to work.
If only I could stop thinking about my ex railing me from behind over the boardroom table.