Chapter 21
Shannen
Wandering around the office, I scan the room, trying to spot Phoenix’s pervert cameras, but I can’t find them.
Same as I still don’t know where they are in my apartment—not that he’s needed to use those either, considering he hasn’t actually been back to his place for the past week. He’s practically moved in without asking.
I walk to the corner of the room, which seems like the most logical place for hidden surveillance, and flip it off. Two middle fingers raised high, flipping off absolutely nothing because I have no idea where the cameras actually are.
My phone vibrates on the desk, and I glance down at the screen.
PHOENIX: Cute, baby, but I think you should put those fingers to better use and let me watch.
You really want James Lawson walking into my office right after I come… I thought you were possessive, Phoenix, yet here you are practically asking for another man to sniff out the sex in the air.
Nothing.
Which is weird because Phoenix texts fast.
I stare at my screen for a few more seconds when the message comes.
PHOENIX: The way I’m going to mark your body. I can’t fucking wait.
Hell yes. Ruin me.
This is exactly what happens when your best friend is a sex-crazed, dick-obsessed nymphomaniac who’s spent years desensitizing you to things that should absolutely not be attractive.
You become one yourself.
Now here I am, hopelessly in love with a man who installs cameras in my office so he can watch me. A man who’s probably already planning eighty-four different ways to punish me for that text, and I want every single one of them.
Needing to get Phoenix out of my head before I lose the ability to function like a human being, I step out of my office. Betty looks up from her desk the second she hears me, her face lighting up.
“What’s that look for?” I ask.
“Nothing…” She tilts her head, studying me with those eyes that have seen too much of my life and know far more than I’d like. “You just seem…”
“What?”
“Happy… You seem really happy.”
I smile at her, lean back against the edge of her desk, and slide up onto it.
“I am happy. Everything is good, really good. Minus the assclown I have to spend my day with.”
“Mr. Lawson has been very charming so far.”
“Betty, I assure you he’s not, but we’re going to treat him like he is because I’ve worked my ass off on this redesign.”
“Okay.” She nods, understanding immediately. “He’s a fake-it client. Got it.”
God bless Betty.
I like spending time with the people I work with.
It’s something I make time for daily, not because I have to, but because I want to.
I want to know them. I want to know about their lives, who they go home to at the end of a long day, and what they complain about at dinner.
Mostly, I want them to know they matter here.
Once I’m back inside, fully prepped for the meeting from hell, I pull out my phone and stare at Phoenix’s name in my contacts. God, I didn’t realize how deeply I’d buried myself in work until I started obsessing over a man instead.
It’s unhealthy, right?
I’ve gone from being addicted to my career to being addicted to Phoenix, but that man is pure, uncut crack.
I don’t miss the irony that addiction clearly runs in my DNA.
Genetics really are a spiteful bitch like that.
My phone suddenly lights up in my hand.
PHOENIX: I love you.
I melt.
Literally melt.
I’m pretty sure every bone in my body just gave out from those three little words.
For a minute, I just sit in my chair, full rag doll—arms limp, brain off in the fucking clouds—as he takes complete power over me, even when he’s not physically here.
Cool.
Love that for me.
Knocking on my door pulls me out of my Phoenix haze, and Betty opens it, letting James in.
His eyes don’t lie, and the way they drag over me, with that stupid fucking grin plastered on his face, makes Phoenix’s warnings feel even more justified.
Which is a little annoying because I hate it when he’s right.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Mitchell.” Betty closes the door behind him, and I gesture toward the chair opposite my desk.
“How are you, James?”
“Ready to get this going.” He sits, adjusting his cuff links. “I felt terrible after our video call.”
“Why?”
“Because I sounded like an ass. The board is just set in its ways, and I don’t think they were ready for such a drastic change.”
“I understand people don’t always like change, but it’s your company. Don’t you have the final say?”
“We’ll see, won’t we, when I go back to them with revisions.” He laughs, but honestly, I don’t have the patience for corporate bullshit and endless rounds of revisions just because his board can’t make a decision.
“I’ll be honest with you, James. I’d love to have my name and brand associated with your hotels, but I’m not here to waste time. I have other clients waiting, so if this becomes a pattern of back-and-forth, I’ll pass the project on, and you can find someone with more availability.”
I expect a reaction—maybe offense, irritation, or, at the very least, surprise. Instead, there’s a glint in his eyes that suggests he’s been waiting for me to push back.
“Yeah, you’re exactly what I need.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your lack of desperation is rare, and it’s attractive.” He tilts his head, as if trying to gauge my reaction, which is currently to reach across this desk and twist his balls off. “Professionally speaking, of course.”
Phoenix’s voice echoes in my mind.
Be careful, baby. He likes strong women. He likes to weaken them.
“I don’t need this job, James. That’s what I’m saying. I want it… I really do. But I also have my limits.”
He raises his hands in surrender, sitting back and resting an ankle on his knee. “Fair enough.”
The sun is starting to set, and James is still here. His jacket’s been abandoned on the back of the chair for hours, and we’ve been buried in color palettes, font pairings, and layout tweaks that all started blurring together sometime around my third eye twitch.
I haven’t heard from Phoenix, but I’d bet my fucking soul he hasn’t taken his eyes off us, which is probably the only thing keeping him from walking through that door and making James disappear.
It’s unhinged as fuck.
It’s obsessive and possessive.
But if I’m going to love Phoenix, it has to be for exactly who he is. I’ll never pick and choose which parts of him I accept.
The light and the dark.
The gentle and the violent.
They’re the same.
They’re all him.
The boy who learned early that love meant protection, and protection meant blood if it had to.
A knock at the door pulls my attention, and Betty steps in carrying paper bags that immediately fill the room with the most mouthwatering smell.
James stands and moves before I do, taking the bags from her with a smile. “Let me take those.”
“What’s that?”
“I missed lunch,” James says, turning back to me as Betty quietly slips out. “And I didn’t know how long we’d be, so I ordered some Thai. Is that okay?”
“I mean, sure, knock yourself out.”
“There’s plenty here for you too,” he says, unpacking containers onto my desk.
“I’ve actually got dinner plans.”
“Come on, you must be hungry. Betty told me you hadn’t eaten lunch today.”
That’s it, I’m firing her ass.
“Okay. Just a little,” I say, reaching for a spring roll and immediately regretting it the second my fingers touch it.
I want to slam my forehead into the desk because I just handed him that small victory of control, and he knows it.
Shortly after, I sink back into my chair, and James circles behind me. Every hair on the back of my neck stands on end because he’s close, too close. If I spun my chair right now, I’d be full face-to-dick.
“This is all looking really good, Shannen.”
“Hopefully it’ll be better received than my original idea.”
“I loved the first design because it was so different,” he admits. “But this will work. I can’t see anyone raising a complaint.”
The bright red we started with has been toned down to maroon, and we’re still going with the black but using less of it.
The fonts aren’t as sharp—they’re definitely less me—and we’re starting with their website to test the waters.
Changing the hotels will come later, and that will be entirely left to James and whoever he brings in.
I’m just the artist who sends the files.
“You preferred the first?” I ask, turning my face and glancing up at him.
“Yes, but not because this isn’t a great alternative. The original was… I don’t know—it felt more seductive. Intimate. I liked it a lot.”
“But your board, of what I assume are older men, didn’t like that.” I start to laugh, but it dies in my throat when James leans in closer.
“I love how this shade complements the black. It’s dark, but still eye-catching.”
My cell vibrates, and Phoenix’s name flashes across the screen. I reach for it immediately, and James takes a step back.
“Sorry, I need to—” I turn my face and force a polite smile. “Give me a second.”
PHOENIX: I’m about five seconds away from breaking both his arms so he can’t get that fucking close to you again.
I’ve only just got you back. I don’t want to be visiting you in prison.
PHOENIX: Worth it. Now, tell him to back the fuck up, or I will.
I set my phone down, definitely a little too hard, and push back from the table, needing distance from James. His attention feels almost physical, and whatever Phoenix is feeling right now, watching this through whatever camera he’s got trained on me—I can feel that too.
“I think we’ve made real progress here.”
“So do I, and I don’t see there being any issues with this fresh direction.” He steps forward, closing the distance I just created, and smiles down at me.
I move toward my desk, putting furniture between us now. “Great… So I’ll send over all the files, and you can show the board.”
“Thank you. I know they’re going to love it.”
“Perfect. Then we’re all set.”
He just stands there for a moment, then tilts his head and slides his hands into his pockets.