Chapter 29
Miles
M y fingers hover over the button to text Emma and ask if she’s okay. I grabbed a drink at Bella’s, a wine bar Zo opened on the east side, a short walk from his house. He’s had the spot for years now, but I never made it over to Los Angeles to check it out. We got caught up talking about meetings he’s lining up next week when he’s back in DC. He’s trying to get this bill right so it has a chance of becoming law. I didn’t glance at my watch until after ten, when we both dipped to call it a night, tired from long hours.
I’ve been burning the candle at both ends, splitting my time between work with Zo and my own business in the evening. A handful of contracts are still active, and they require my attention—which I have less and less of since I moved to Malibu to stay with a woman who’s now radio silent.
Em wasn’t up when I got in last night. I thought about texting her to let her know where I was but brushed it off. We don’t check on each other like that, though our random messages throughout the day make it move faster. The more I learn about her, the more I like her. Emma is cool people, with a fire personality to match the physical. She keeps me on my toes and stocking up on Icy Hot the way we go at it. I like giving her my time, which is more than I can say about any woman I’ve been with. I’m becoming more in tune with Emma, and I know when something is off.
She had an attitude this morning, giving me only short responses before she left for work. I assumed she slept on the wrong side of the bed the way she was wrangling animals with her snoring last night. I stayed up late working on research for a client and had to put my noise-canceling headphones on to drown her ass out. Not sure how that translates to a funky morning, but I’m not a mind reader.
It’s now two o’clock with no signs of life, which isn’t her—at least, not anymore.
“Mr. Walker, you have a visitor,” Michelle, the receptionist, says through the intercom.
“Send her back,” I say.
“It’s a Carter Davis,” she clarifies. Her voice is cautious, like he’s breathing down her neck just to be an ass.
I hit the button to speak. “Send Crispin in.” I chuckle at the echo of him stomping his ass up the hallway. Is this why Emma is so quiet? Can’t be. The only man she backs down from is her father. Her mother, too, but I’m not touching that.
Emma owes me nothing, even if I wanted more or thought about what more would look like. So, I stick to our arrangement. It doesn’t remove the urge to check in on her, but it is what it is.
Carter powers through the last stretch of hallway and heads for the chair at the head of the conference table. He unbuttons his tan suit jacket and sits with his eyes trained on me.
I lean back in my chair, smirking at the steam wafting from his ears. I haven’t fucked with him yet, and he’s already on one.
“When’s your birthday?” I fold my arms over my polo.
It takes a minute for Carter to unlock his jaw. “Why does it matter?”
I shrug. “I got a gift for your ankles.” My grin widens at his glare, showing all of my pearly whites. “What can I do for you, Crispin?”
He sighs. “How the hell did you get a job here?”
“Contract,” I correct. “I work for myself, but the answer to your question is, I know my shit. Now, what can I help you with so you can get back to your job?”
Carter’s nostrils flare, turning his light complexion a shade of pink. He unclenches his hands and folds them on the table. “I wanted to touch base for a bill status update. Do you have something to present to me?” He eyes my end of the table, looking for a presentation he’s not getting.
I cross my ankle over my knee. “I don’t have any appointments on my calendar with Carrillo’s team for a legislative briefing, and I have a meeting in”—I check my Rolex—“eighteen minutes. I doubt you storm into other senators’ offices unannounced, demanding people drop what they’re doing to appease you. I can assure you, Crispin—”
“Carter,” he fumes.
“—that shit don’t fly in this office. Even so, are you versed enough in scripting, network security control, or intrusion detection to follow the conversation?”
His flush deepens to crimson. “I’m Senator Douglass’s chief of staff. He’s owed an update.”
“And he will get one once it’s ready and the primary sponsors of this bill approve any changes. He might tell you how far to bend over, but this little attempt at a pissing contest will get you escorted out the door.” I stand. “Don’t come back here on bullshit. Respect the staff in this office by making an appointment, or read the bill draft Carrillo sent you three weeks ago. Either way, your time is up.”
Had it been another staff member in another office, I might’ve had a bit more patience. Maybe. But Carter can kiss the entire length of my ass. Zo doesn’t like him and would laugh him out of his office for trying what he just did. I never respect people who abuse their power, and I won’t entertain boys masking themselves as men and slithering around to get it.
Carter is the type to stab you in the back while holding a mirror. His pretentiousness makes my ass itch, but there’s something calculated about him that’s dishonest.
He stands and takes a slow stroll to meet me at the conference room door. We’re close in height, but he could be a giant and I’d still knock his ass down to size. Our builds are different. He ain’t floating with the heavyweights. He should punch in his own weight class, where it’s safe.
“Need something else?” I hold his stare and wait for him to look away.
“Actually.” He glances at his watch. “No. I’m on my way to Emma.”
Carter visiting Em shouldn’t bother me, but it does. So does the smirk he tosses back. She and I aren’t together, but if she ever wanted to get serious about someone, she could do a lot better than Carter fucking Davis. He would never treat her the way she deserves. To be worshiped. Cherished.
My tongue drags over my teeth so I can reset and not give him a visit to the nearest hospital. Boys like Carter expect people like me, from around the way, to act out of pocket. It took a while for me to learn my lesson, and, luckily for this ankles-out motherfucker, I did.
“Hope you made an appointment with her. She’s a busy woman.” I know for a fact he didn’t the way his eyes shift to the left. “Tell her I said hi, and I’ll see her at home.”
I almost pull out my phone to snap a photo as Carter’s eyes widen once the words settle. He stares, speechless, searching for signs I’m lying. When he can’t find any, the shock settles into irritation. In his mind, he’s entitled to Emma, like she’s some birthright and not a woman to earn.
“See you tonight, Crispin.”
Emma is playing with fire. She never called or texted about this business-council fundraiser, giving me zero details about what I’m walking into. Luckily, Zo did, when he arrived an hour ago. I changed into a suit I had at the office in case a polo and slacks weren’t the move. Turns out I was right. At least a hundred people are here, all dressed like they’re going to the opera.
Emma’s father glides through a crowd of suits and cocktail dresses, wearing a classic tux and the practiced smile of a career politician. I don’t know much about him, but I don’t like the way Emma begs for his attention. She doesn’t realize it, and I won’t point it out.
He and I share a smile on the way to meet Lorenzo. “Miles.” Senator Douglass pats my shoulders.
“Senator Douglass.” I shake his hand.
“Please, call me John,” he says with another politician smile. I know better than to call him by his first name in mixed company, and I’ll dodge the bullet his wife will send into my chest without hesitation if I do. She’s off in the corner with Blair, and they’re turning up their noses at a woman. Is this not a fundraiser?
I scan the room for Emma while John and Zo start a conversation around me. I’m not trying to be rude, but work ended an hour ago for me, and they’re not my priority.
“Carrillo tells me you’ve made wonderful additions to his bill,” John says.
“We’ve passed benchmarks months in advance because of him.”
I roll my eyes at Zo’s smile. He knows I hate this shit.
“How’s Emma?”
“Excuse me?” I glance at John for clarity and frown at his smile.
His eyes crinkle at the edges. “Emma. How is she? You’re staying with her, yes?”
“I am, but I’m wondering why you’re asking me about your daughter. Haven’t you spoken to her?” His smile slips, teasing glimpses of sadness pass over his features before a corner of his mouth lifts.
“Unfortunately, not as much as I’d like,” John confesses through a humorless laugh, one I don’t find funny. “I’ve been here since Wednesday but haven’t had the time.”
“Wednesday?” My head snaps to John, who’s looking at the wrong one for understanding. Zo’s subtle headshake warns me not to cause a scene.
I spot Emma in a yellow off-the-shoulder dress and lick my lips at the fabric touching her curves. Her exposed thigh lengthens her toned legs strapped to black stilettos. By fashion standards, she’s perfect—the most breathtaking woman in the room. But light is missing from her eyes. I search for the source of her hurt—outside of her father ignoring his only daughter for two fucking days—and take in Carter next to her. His penguin suit blends in with the others, making him easy to miss. She squirms at something he whispers, and I’m off.
To my surprise, she meets me halfway.
“Phone?”
Emma’s frown is abrupt. Her glittery eyes narrow at my question. “Yes, I have it.”
I pull mine out, scroll to her number, and put it to my ear. Hers rings seconds later. I smile once she answers. “It works,” I say with a straight face, on my bullshit.
She rolls her red lips. “The line goes both ways,” Emma says in defense. It’s good to see her smile. I’ll make it my mission to see another. Don’t ask me why.
“Why you ignoring me all day?” If we have to have this conversation over the phone while standing next to each other, so be it.
Emma opens her mouth but closes it again. Her guard goes up to the moon right before she pulls back her energy. I hate this but can’t say shit about it. We’re not together. We fuck, text, and went on one date, but a relationship isn’t part of the deal.
Still, one thing I won’t do is pretend I don’t care.
I tell myself Em’s place as Justice’s best friend is why I’m entertaining shit I wouldn’t normally, but that’s a lie. Maybe it’s the fact she’s been off-limits to me for so long that keeps my focus on her. I thought it would wear off after Italy, but I can’t shake not wanting more with her.
She still won’t play with me.
“You didn’t think to reach out about tonight?” I shake my head and end the call but keep my eyes on her. “I’m not some random, Em. I came here as a courtesy, but never forget my presence is a choice.”
Zo calls me back over to him and John. I meant what I said: I’m here by choice. Sex doesn’t require pretending to be together, but I want to be here.
I chuckle at Carter, who’s huffing and puffing in the corner. For someone who had so much to say in Zo’s office, he’s very quiet.
My phone chimes with a message from Emma.
Emma
I appreciate you coming and I’m sorry I was distant.
Our eyes meet. I type out a response.
No apology necessary for taking time if that’s what you needed. I’m here for you, Em. No one else. Let me in next time so I know what I’m walking into.
Emma
I’ll work on it.
I smirk. Stubborn ass.
You better. Now bring your fine ass over here for a kiss. Gotta keep up appearances.