Chapter 35 Scarlett
SCARLETT
“Holy shit,” Dakota said, leaning in the seat across from my desk. “What did you do when you left the emergency room?”
“After Jace left, I stayed at my mom’s place.”
I held up the compact, dabbing my red cheekbone with more powder.
I’d done a decent job of hiding this, but, damn it, I could still see the mark, and if I could, that meant other people could too.
The last thing I wanted was to get Jace in trouble for being with me last night.
It wasn’t like we exactly had a professional explanation for him being at my apartment and getting into a violent confrontation with my father …
“And the security guy? Did he stay there too?”
I nodded. “He was positioned outside the entire night. And he followed me back to my place, where I changed and got ready for work this morning.”
“Well, I have to say, it’s pretty hot that Jace came to your defense.” Dakota wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Speaking of which … I eyed her. “You can’t tell anyone what happened.”
She cocked her head. “You know I would never do that.”
“I know, but it makes me feel better to have said it. You work at this company, too, so you can’t say anything.”
Now that I was thinking about it, maybe I shouldn’t have told Dakota what happened.
The nondisclosure agreement refrained me from discussing the romantic weekend with anyone, but it didn’t stipulate what to do if Jace showed up and, you know, punched my father in the face and wrestled him to the ground. Details.
Grabbing a pen, I flattened the NDA on my desk and signed the bottom of it.
“So, you’re going to tell Jace who Grabby Hands is,” she deduced in a relieved tone that suggested I’d finally come to my senses after wandering in the desert of indecision.
“It won’t take him long to figure this out on his own. Might as well do it on my terms.” I tapped the pen against the paper. “Protecting me.”
“Still, this is a big deal. It means you trust him.”
“I trust that he’ll believe me.” Rising, I folded the paper in half to remove the risk of anyone seeing its contents.
“Good luck,” she said.
“Thanks.”
Why was my heart thundering in my chest? The hardest part, being believed, was virtually a sure thing. I’d spent the entire weekend with Jace, so he knew me well enough to know I would have no reason to lie about this. Right? So, why then was this so nerve-racking?
I got into the elevator, and just before the doors closed, a hand shot between them, forcing them back open.
My stomach dropped to my toes. Clad in a black suit that was fitting for his dark soul, Grabby Hands appeared.
He had the nerve to smirk at me as he entered the elevator, trapping me alone with him.
Fantastic. Just … fantastic.
“What happened to your cheek?” he asked, eyeing the mark from last night. “You mouth off to somebody else?”
Mouth off. Wow.
“No, I got it from dodging questions as absurd as that one.” I stared straight ahead at the elevator doors, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.
“I’m on my way to deliver my recommendation for the job. The one you interviewed for.”
“Good for you.” I kept my voice flat. Dead. Unimpressed.
“It’s not too late to bump your name to the top of the list.”
I glared at him. He smelled like cedar and misogyny.
“We can meet tonight if you’d like.” His voice dropped into a sleazeball octave.
I took one deep breath to calm my absolute boiling rage at this man. He probably expected me to either comply or cower away from him, but I would do neither of those two things.
“In case it wasn’t clear when you were sexually harassing me the last time, your advances are unwanted and unprofessional. Stop.”
He smiled at me with condescension and said, “Last chance. You want the job or not?” As if his perverted tone wasn’t bad enough, he moved closer.
I could not believe the balls on this guy. Having the audacity to sexually harass someone during an interview was disgusting enough. Taking another chance at it was repulsive. But being this brazen, this vile? That took the cake.
Too bad for him, this document in my hand was about to destroy his ass. Within minutes, Jace would have this guy’s name, and his career would be professionally cremated.
The elevator doors dinged open, and I gave him a smirk back.
“It was nice working with you,” I said, making my exit.
The fact that Grabby Hands was nervous enough about my veiled threat to follow me all the way down the corridor toward Jace’s office gave me all sorts of satisfaction.
Outside the closed door, a crowd of executives had gathered for what had to be a massively important meeting, but when that door opened, Jace locked eyes with me.
And only me. Other people might not have noticed the way he looked down at my hand, at the paper clutched in it, or the way his mouth lifted slightly on one side as he met my gaze once more.
But I did. And seeing as how Grabby Hands might be standing behind me—the creep—I squared my shoulders and played the role of confidence. Pure confidence.
Jace greeted the other men and women quickly with handshakes, making his way through the crowd of leaders until he got to me. My pulse quickened as he approached, that intensity in his eyes making it clear he had only one destination: me.
Grabby Hands walked around me, extending his hand with a confident smile. My stomach twisted as I watched him approach Jace, anticipating the interaction between my protector and my harasser.
Jace looked at him for a moment, his expression shifting in a way I couldn’t quite read. Then, to my absolute horror, instead of just accepting the handshake, Jace clasped his hand, pulled him halfway in, and gave him that familiar one-armed pat on the back that men reserved for old friends.
Seeing this, my brain decided to turn into sloth-level slow motion as I witnessed the scene unfolding before me.
Witnessed the intimacy that these two guys clearly shared.
Jace hadn’t bro-hugged any of his other executives.
In fact, he didn’t strike me as a hugger at all, and even though it was a very masculine, pat-on-the-back kind of hug, it was a hug nonetheless.
Any doubt about its significance evaporated when Grabby Hands shot me a victorious look, his villainous eyebrow arched.
Total power play, flapping his proverbial dick on the table, as if to silently say, See, Scarlett? I’m super close with the owner. So, good luck getting anyone to believe you.
My throat ran dry. And that pounding heart decided now was a great time to do full-on cartwheels, bouncing around my ribs like it was auditioning for Cirque du Soleil.
Maybe they weren’t that close though. Maybe, I don’t know, Grabby Hands had rescued Jace from a flat tire or something? Okay, my mind needed to come up with better explanations. And fast. Because the alternative, that they were close friends, could not be reality.
“What happened to your face?” Grabby Hands asked Jace, who was sporting a bruised eye. “Second person I saw today that looks like they were on the losing end of a bar fight.”
Grabby Hands’s dark brown eyes snapped to mine with silent accusation. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, him suspecting Jace and I had been together outside of work, let alone in some kind of violent struggle, was not something I could deal with.
“Stumbled in the dark,” Jace said quickly. “Mind giving us a minute?”
“Of course.” Grabby Hands placed a hand on Jace’s shoulder, shot me an antagonistic smirk, and then ambled off with the confidence of a man who’d already won the game he’d dragged me into.
“You two are close?” Could he hear the tremble in my voice? The disbelief? The absolute horror? I hoped not. I was half smiling, playing the role of a woman who had not just met her harasser.
“Marcus?” Jace looked back at Grabby Hands for a moment. “Oh, yeah. We go way back. He’s actually one of my best friends.”
Houston, we have a catastrophe.
“That the NDA?” Jace asked, reaching out his palm.
What I wanted to do was rip it up in front of him and throw it in the air like confetti.
I wanted to scream at him, How could you be friends with someone like that?
And what did that say about Jace? Was he really the stand-up guy that I thought he was, or was he somebody who would protect his “best friend” above all else?
He’d certainly never believe some fling he’d shared two days with over his best friend—that was for damn sure.
But I had to play it cool. I needed time to digest what just happened, and until I knew my next move, secrecy was my greatest asset.
“I can’t sign it.” I pulled the paper closer to my chest.
Jace’s eyebrows pulled together, and he shoved his hands into his tailored pants pockets. After glancing at the doorway and the conference table full of people, he sighed in frustration.
“I didn’t realize you had a meeting,” I said. “We can talk when you have time.”
“I never have time,” he said. “My calendar is booked. We’re talking now.”