CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #2
She smiled. “I’d hope so. This look took hours.” she replied, letting me guide her into a slow turn before settling back against my hand.
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” I added.
“Last-minute decision,” she said. “One of my artists is up for two awards. I figured I should at least pretend to be supportive in person.”
I dipped my chin in acknowledgment, my hand settling at her waist again.
“Smart.”
We fell into an easy rhythm for a few beats, the kind that came from familiarity more than effort. We swayed together in comfortable silence for a few beats before she looked up at me with an arched brow.
“So,” she began, her tone laced with amusement. “You wanna tell me why you’re using me to make your assistant jealous?”
Because I don’t have time to play this slow. I needed to push her. Make her feel something. Anything that would move us closer to what I needed her to agree to even if I had to play dirty to get there.
I gave her a sidelong look. “That obvious?”
“To everyone but Elise,” she said with a knowing smile. “But give her a few more sips of tequila and I’m sure the meltdown will be public.”
“I’m not trying to make her miserable,” I muttered, even though the curl of satisfaction I’d felt watching her stiffen earlier said otherwise. “I just want her to admit she feels something.”
Camille twirled again, giving me a dry look when she landed. “Nathan Edge, emotional manipulation is so beneath you.”
“I prefer the term ‘strategic pressure.’”
“You’re so full of it.” Camille laughed.
I smirked but didn’t deny it.
“You like her,” Camille stated. When I didn’t respond Camille leaned in. “Look, I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve seen you with women you’ve wined, dined, and completely forgotten about two weeks later. But this girl? You’re dancing with me and your eyes are still tracking her like a sniper.”
I followed her gaze toward the bar. Elise was leaning forward, her hand curled around a fresh drink, lips tilted in a fake smile as a man in a tight blazer said something that made her laugh just a little too hard.
The jealousy flared hotter in my chest than I wanted to admit.
“I should—”
“Yes, you should,” Camille cut in. “Before she stumbles into a bad decision just to spite you.”
I gave her hand a squeeze. “Thanks for the dance.”
I made my way toward Elise just as her giggle turned into a full-on laugh.
She was in that gold silk dress I’d stupidly told her to buy, one heel kicked back behind the other, a smile on her face I knew damn well was faker than half the music industry in the room.
And next to her? Tom Rossi’s assistant, Malcolm, with his weak chin, shiny shoes, and his hand inching a little too close to her waist.
“So Elise, are you here with someone?”
I closed the distance. “She is. Now back the fuck away from my assistant.”
Elise turned at the sound of my voice, clearly tipsy and clearly startled.
“Nathan,” she said, her tone sugary sweet. “Shouldn’t you be off dancing with Ms. Perfect Cheekbones?”
I ignored the jab and leveled a look at Rossi’s slimy assistant beside her. “Leave. Now.”
Malcolm blinked. “Excuse me?”
I stepped between them. “She’s taken.”
“I don’t see a ring,” he shot back, all fake bravado and nervous sweat.
“It must be pretty hard to see anything with that black eye.”
“I don’t have a black eye.” Malcom scoffed.
“Not yet.”
Malcom sobered up quickly, my words landing the way I anticipated. He held up his hands in surrender as he backed up and turned without another word.
Elise scoffed. “Seriously? You can’t just show up and get territorial like you own me.”
“I didn’t say I owned you.”
“Oh, really? Because you just chased off the one decent conversation I was having all night.”
“If you think he was a decent conversation, I’m starting to question your judgment.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re unbelievable.”
I stepped in close, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear that didn’t need fixing. “And you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” she snapped, way too fast.
I raised a brow. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because you were glaring at Camille like you were five seconds away from ripping her hair out her head.”
“I was considering it.” Elise begrudgingly admitted.
“See? That’s jealousy.”
She snorted. “Of who? Ms. Perfect Cheekbones?”
I smirked. “She is perfect.”
Elise glared at me, and I watched the fire light behind her eyes.
“And she’s also married.” The fire sputtered, just like I knew it would. Elise blinked, her mouth parting like the words she wanted to say got stuck behind her pride. I leaned in, brushing my knuckle lightly against her jaw. “Like I said, you’re cute when you try to pretend you don’t care.”
“I don’t care,” she insisted, voice breathy and defensive. “I was just proving a point.”
“Uh-huh. And what point was that? That if you laugh loud enough, I’ll think you’re not still thinking about our kiss?”
Her eyes flashed to my lips. “Barely remember it.”
That made me grin.
She looked like trouble in silk and lipstick, and I was past the point of pretending I didn’t want to deal with the consequences.
Her glass was empty. Her cheeks were flushed. That little pink tongue of hers darted out to wet her lips like she didn’t know it drove me insane.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Why?”
Because I can’t stop thinking about how your skin would feel if I peeled that dress off you.
Because I need to be the only man who gets your smile tonight.
Because I’m one minute away from throwing you over my shoulder like some caveman.
I cleared my throat. “Because it's been a long day. And if I have to watch one more asshole look at you like you’re a midnight snack, I’m going to end up on the internet.”
Elise licked her lips slowly, eyes dancing with mischief.
“Fine,” she said, setting the glass down.
I smirked. “Good girl.”
* * *
AWAY FROM THE glitz and the glamour of the night, the dark cloud that followed Elise this week was back, hovering over her as the two of us sat in the backseat of the limo as it wove down the streets of downtown LA to Elise’s home.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked. Unease gnawed at me knowing there was something bothering her.
“What?”
“Something has clearly been bothering you this week.” Who do I have to kill?
“It’s nothing.” She shook her head and continued to stare out the window.
“Try again, Cupcake.” I told her. “We’ve worked together long enough for me to know when something is bothering you.”
“It’s…” Elise hesitated. “It’s my ex. He’s been calling me and asking for a second chance.”
I briefly remembered her dating someone two years ago. Some kind of sports management guy or maybe he played sports? I couldn’t remember. I just knew he stopped coming around a year ago and Elise seemed happier because of it.
“And that’s not something you want?” I didn’t know the reason behind their breakup, but the fact that he was dumb enough to lose Elise told me all I needed to know about him.
“No.” Elise stated firmly. “He wasn’t….he wasn’t a good person.” Something about her tone sent off warning bells and whistles.
“Do you want me to talk to him?” I offered. And by talk I mean use his neck as a personal pez dispenser.
“No, it’s okay.” Elise gave me a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes just as the limo pulled to a stop in front of her house. “Thank you for taking me home.”
“I’ll walk you to the door.” I told her, already edging for the handle.
“How chivalrous of you,” Elise teased. “You don’t have to though. Giving me a ride home was enough.” She tried to argue but I was already out the door.
I rounded the back seat just as Elise stepped out of the car and shut the door behind her.
She looked up at me on the dimly lit porch, arms folded, eyes guarded.
“I need you to arrange flights and a hotel for us. We’re going to Louisiana the day after tomorrow.”
The shift in conversation gave her an anchor, something solid to latch onto. “Louisiana?” she repeated, her brows furrowing.
I nodded. “I want to meet with Darryl in person. He’s got the potential to be Edge Record’s next big artist, and I don’t want him signing with another label before we have the chance to talk.”
The tension between us eased as she settled into something familiar. “I’ll take care of it tonight.” she said, her voice more sure now.
I nodded my head then added, “Get some rest, Elise.”
She gave me a small smile. “You too, Nathan.”
I watched her turn then step inside, the door closing between us. As I walked back to the limo, I exhaled slowly, running a hand over my jaw.
Part of me wanted to reach for her, pull her close, and forget everything except the way her eyes held mine earlier tonight.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I forced myself to remember why I’d started this in the first place. This wasn’t just a game, it was survival. And I was running out of time.