6. Kyle The Awards Ceremony
Kyle: The Awards Ceremony
I straighten my tie, my reflection staring back at me as I look into the mirror. I look the part—confident, composed, every bit the powerful CEO. But beneath the surface, my nerves are tangled tight.
I arrive early, needing a moment to gather myself before Leslie shows up.
I send a car to pick her up, insisting on it, though I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe I want to make sure she comes. Maybe I just want to see her walk through those doors.
A waiter passes by, offering champagne. I wave it off, my eyes drifting to the grand entrance. Any moment now.
I try to focus on the chatter around me, the familiar faces nodding in my direction. But it’s all a blur, my attention is locked on the door.
The moment I see her, everything else fades away.
Leslie steps inside the hall, her shoulders straight, her head held high. The emerald dress hugs her curves perfectly, flowing gracefully as she moves. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, framing her bright eyes. She looks . . . breathtaking.
My throat goes dry. I’ve known she’s beautiful, but tonight she is radiant. Confident. Unforgettable.
I should look away. I should do something other than stand here staring like an idiot. But I can’t move. The memory of her face tilted up toward mine, eyes wide and lips just a breath away at the café, keeps replaying in my mind.
Her smile falters for a fraction of a second before she begins walking toward me, her steps measured, controlled. I force my feet to move, closing the distance between us even though every muscle in my body tenses.
“You look . . .” I trail off, the words tangling in my throat. Stunning doesn’t begin to cover it. “You look nice,” I say instead, trying to be casual, but it comes out strained.
Her eyebrows lift, a spark of challenge in her gaze. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
There’s a distance between us, not in steps but in everything unspoken. We’re standing close enough that I can catch the faintest hint of her perfume, but she feels miles away.
I should say something to ease the tension, but my mind is blank. I can’t stop thinking about the look on her face when I walked away.
The silence between us stretches, just long enough to feel awkward. She clears her throat, her gaze skittering away. “This place is incredible,” she says, her voice forced, like she’s gasping for neutral territory.
“Yeah,” I reply, my response automatic. I can’t seem to shake the unease curling in my gut. I’ve never been this unsure around her before.
I glance at her, finding her eyes on me before she quickly looks away. My chest tightens. I need to pull myself together.
We’re at an industry event, surrounded by executives, investors, and key players in entertainment and media. This isn’t the place for complications. There’s no room for complications.
“Come on,” I say, keeping my voice steady as I offer my arm. “I’ll introduce you around.”
Her eyes flick to my arm, hesitation flickering in her expression. Her fingers hover for a second before she wraps them around my elbow, her touch is light, but it sends a jolt through me. We’ve touched before, at the café, but this feels different.
We move through the room, pausing to greet familiar faces. I force myself to focus on the conversations, to project the image expected of me. But it’s a struggle. I’m too aware of Leslie by my side, of the way her body brushes against mine when she leans in to laugh at someone’s joke.
Her charm is effortless, her wit sharp as she navigates every conversation with practiced ease. Yet, I notice the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way her smile never quite reaches her eyes. I wonder if she’s just as off-balance as I am.
***
“Quite the pair you make,” a voice cuts through my thoughts, followed by a firm clap on my shoulder. I blink, grounding myself back in the present. It’s Daniel, his grin all-knowing. “She’s perfect for you.”
My gaze flicks to Leslie. She’s now deep in conversation with a guest, her laugh soft and genuine, her posture relaxed. It’s almost convincing enough to make me forget the tension I saw moments ago. Almost.
I force a chuckle, my voice coming out more strained than I intended. “She’s here for work,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Just to help with appearances.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow, his skepticism clear. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” His gaze shifts to Leslie, lingering for a beat before turning back to me, his expression sobering. “Just don’t forget that you’re the boss, Kyle. People are watching.”
His words hit me like cold water, washing away the warmth I’ve been feeling. He’s right. I have a reputation to protect and lines I can’t cross. I can’t risk rumors, problems . . . distractions.
“I know,” I say, my jaw tightening. “It’s nothing like that.”
Daniel gives me a look, his skepticism is clear. “Then make sure it stays that way.” He claps me on the shoulder once more, his voice lower, more serious. “For both your sakes.”
Before I can respond, he wanders off, his laughter trailing behind him as he mingles with the crowd.
I stand there, my hands curling into fists. This isn’t personal. It can’t be.
But as I watch Leslie, her head tilting as she listens intently, her smile lighting up the room, my chest tightens. I can’t look away.
The host announces the start of the awards ceremony. I offer my arm again, this time, she takes it without hesitation, letting me guide her to our seats near the front.
I’m aware of every movement she makes, the way she crosses her legs, the way she leans in to whisper a comment during a boring speech. I try to focus on the ceremony, but her presence is magnetic, pulling my attention back to her again and again.
When my company is called up for an award, she turns to me with a smile, “Congratulations, Kyle.”
Her voice is soft, sincere. It hits me harder than I expected. “Thank you,” I murmur, my eyes lingering on her a second too long.
I force myself to break away, to go up on stage and accept the award. But even as I smile for the cameras, my mind is on her, my heart pounding in my chest.
***
I can’t stop watching her. Every smile, every laugh, every graceful movement keeps pulling me in. I’m losing my grip on control, and I know it.
But nothing prepares me for the surge of heat that floods my chest when I see him with her.
Anthony Reeves. The CEO of Pinnacle Management, my rival.
He’s leaning in too close, his hand resting on the small of her back as he whispers something that makes her laugh. Her head tilts, her hair falling softly over her shoulder, and his eyes flicker with interest.
My jaw tightens. He’s always been too smooth, too charming for his own good. It’s not enough that he’s constantly trying to one-up me in business—now he’s getting too close to Leslie. Seeing her smile at him—twists something fierce inside me.
I take a step forward before I can stop myself, my fists clenching. I force myself to breathe, to stay calm. I have no right to be jealous. She’s just my employee, my PR specialist. Nothing more.
Then she laughs again, her hand lightly touching Anthony’s arm, a possessive fire burns through me.
I can’t think. I just act.
“Leslie,” I say, my voice firm as I close the distance between us. I keep my expression neutral, my tone professional, but my eyes lock on hers with an intensity I can’t hide. “I need a word.”
Anthony raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You always did have terrible timing, Donovan.”
I don’t spare him a glance. “Now, Leslie.”
Her eyes widen, her lips parting in surprise, but she nods, her posture straightening. “Of course.”
I place a hand on her lower back—right where his was—and guide her away from him, my touch firm, possessive. I feel her tense under my hand, but she doesn’t resist.
I don’t stop until we’re in a secluded corner, away from prying eyes and curious ears. I let go of her, turning to face her as I try to gather my thoughts.
She crosses her arms, one eyebrow arching. “Is everything alright?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know why I pulled her away.
She watches me, her eyes searching my face. “Kyle?”
My name on her lips sends a shiver through me. I look at her, the way her eyes sparkle under the lights, the way her dress hugs every curve, the way her lips are still curled in that soft, curious smile.
I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
“Stay away from him,” I say, my voice low, rough.
Her eyes widen. “What?”
I take a step closer, closing the space between us. “Anthony. Stay away from him.”
She blinks, then laughs, the sound sharp and disbelieving. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” I growl, my hands curling into fists. “He’s not . . . He’s not good for you.”
She lifts her chin, her eyes flashing with defiance. “That’s not your call to make. I worked for him.”
Her words sting, and jealousy rears its head again. Of course, she knows him. She was his employee once—spent hours working by his side, laughing at his jokes, trusting him.
A flare of frustration ignites inside me. “I don’t trust him. He has an agenda.”
She scoffs. “And you don’t?”
I freeze, her words hitting too close to home.
Her gaze softens, her arms dropping to her sides. “Why do you care, Kyle?”
Why do I care? Why does the thought of her with him make me want to punch something? Why can’t I stand the idea of anyone else touching her?
My pulse races, my chest tightening. “I just do.”
Her eyes search mine, her lips parting. “Kyle . . .”
I can’t take it anymore.
I close the distance between us, my mouth crashing down on hers.
She gasps, her body stiffening in shock, but then she melts into me, her arms wrapping around my neck. Her lips are soft, warm, and she tastes like champagne and temptation.
I lose myself in her, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer. She fits perfectly against me, her curves pressing into my body, her heartbeat wild beneath my palms.
I kiss her deeply, desperately, pouring every ounce of frustration and desire into the touch. She responds just as fiercely, her fingers tangling in my hair, her body arching against mine.
Heat surges between us, raw and electric, every rational thought burning away. I want her. I need her.
But then she pulls back, her breathing ragged, her eyes wide and dark with desire. Her lips are swollen, her hair mussed, and she looks just as shaken as I feel.
I try to catch my breath, my heart pounding as I stare at her, the reality of what just happened crashing over me.
But before I can say a word, she leans in, her lips brushing my ear. Her voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a challenge in her tone that makes my blood roar.
“You have to finish what you started.”
I freeze, my body tensing, my pulse thundering in my ears.
She pulls back, her eyes locking on mine, her expression bold and unapologetic. And then she walks away, her hips swaying, leaving me standing there, stunned and breathless.
I turn, pressing my palm against the wall, trying to catch my breath, to get a grip on my spiraling thoughts. The taste of her still lingers on my lips, intoxicating, dangerous. I close my eyes, her words echoing in my mind.
“You have to finish what you started.”
I grit my teeth, frustration and desire twisting inside me. She’s playing with fire, and damn it, so am I.
Then I hear it. A sound—a sharp intake of breath—coming from just around the corner. My body tenses, instincts kicking in. I move quickly, rounding the corner, my eyes narrowing as I scan the area.
Before I can take another step, someone walks by, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.
“Amanda.” Her name slips out before I can stop myself.
She pauses, her eyes widening just a fraction before she smiles, the expression tight, too controlled. “Kyle. I was just . . . heading back to the event.”