Chapter 4
The elevator door dinged, making both of our heads snap toward the sound.
“I was wondering if Loverboy Bradford was going to forget your flowers. It’s late even for him.”
Smiling, I grabbed the tip for the delivery person and headed out into the lobby. Bradford had been sending me flowers every Friday since we’d started dating.
“I just assumed he would bring them over tonight when he gets home,” I told her over my shoulder.
“When he dicks you down,” Jules called out just as I made eye contact with Mr. Easton himself.
“What kinda flowers did Mr. Big Dick send you this time?” Jules walked out, stuffing her makeup in her bag.
“Jules,” I hissed.
She continued rummaging through her purse, not paying attention.
Jules looked up, picking up on my panic way too late. “Oh, shit. I mean, hello, Easton.”
For some odd reason I couldn’t stop calling him Mr. Easton, Easton just seemed too informal.
Mr. Easton frowned, his green eyes snapping with emotion. He cleared his throat, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob under the five o’clock shadow.
What the hell is wrong with me? Bradford needs to get his ass home before my vagina spontaneously combusts.
“Sorry to show up so late in the day.” His voice was deep and raspy; his eyes bounced all around, not landing on my face for more than half a second.
“It’s no problem. We just assumed you forgot about us,” Jules snarked, sidling next to me, our shoulders touching.
Annoyance flashed over his face, and I had the strangest feeling he wanted to roll his eyes, but that would be unsophisticated for the perfect Mr. Easton.
“Yes, well, I wanted to come in person and congratulate you on getting the account.”
Jules jolted next to me, but I knew my best friend, and she had the best poker face when it came to this stuff.
“Thank you for coming over and telling us,” Jules had her best professional voice on.
“Yes, thank you.” I, on the other hand, could not keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
Jules nudged me with her shoulder harder than I thought was necessary.
Mr. Easton arched his imperial eyebrow at our antics. “Is there something you’d like to say, Miss…”
“Rachel, just call me Rachel, and yes, I do have something to say.”
“No, no she doesn’t. She has low blood sugar. She needs to eat. Don’t you, Rachel?” Jules looked at me, her brown eyes wide as she tried to convey that I needed to shut the hell up.
“Please, say what you want, because I have some things I’d like to get off my chest as well.”
He was so damn pretentious. I wanted to slug him in the back of the head again.
“It isn’t very professional to wait until the end of the workday to give a decision. We were walking out of the building. Our whole office is shut down.” I waved my arm behind me so he could see the darkened office.
“Yes, well …” Mr. Easton cleared his throat. “Up until this moment, I’d been trying to convince Aurora to go with another company.”
“Well, isn’t that special,” I drawled, my fingernails digging into my palms.
What the hell is wrong with this man? I mean sure, I knocked the shit out of him, but did he really have to be an asshole?
“What she means is, thanks for stopping by.” Jules’ smile stretched across her entire face, making her look like a maniac.
“No, I don’t think that’s what she meant.” Mr. Easton’s eyebrow quirked even higher. He continued to stare at me, not paying Jules any attention.
“I see I didn’t knock all of the sense out of you.” I smiled, wanting to pull off the sweet innocent act, but I assumed I looked more unhinged than Jules did.
He cleared his throat, but we continued our stare down without blinking. When the elevator dinged behind him, I refused to look away first.
“Bradford.” Jules’ voice was high-pitched, pulling me out of my stare down with the insufferable douche.
“Hey,” Bradford said, coming into view, a large bouquet of red roses in his hand.
“Bradford, this is Mr. Easton, he’s Aurora’s uncle and helped her decide who to choose for her project. He so graciously came down here to tell us in person we got the indie author account.”
I sucked in my cheeks, biting them at Jules’ voice. She sounded as if she had in fact seen a unicorn.
“That’s amazing.” Bradford leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, handing me the flowers.
Tearing my gaze from Mr. Easton took more willpower than I wanted to admit to.
“Mr. Easton, this is Bradford, Rachel’s fiancé,” Jules stated in a conspiratorial voice.
I snapped my face toward her, Bradford chuckled under his breath. “Sorry, her boyfriend,” Jules corrected without an ounce of apology in her voice.
Bradford leaned down and kissed me again as if the fake mislabel didn’t bother him at all.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Mr. Easton reached out his hand, which Bradford took.
It shocked me to watch Bradford’s hand get swallowed by Mr. Easton’s stupid hand.
The contrast was almost comical. Bradford was a golden god, all tanned skin and sun-kissed, curly blond hair. He had a smile, which made everyone nearby feel comfortable, and his sparkling blue eyes had people expecting a good time.
Mr. Easton was dark and broody. His hair was almost black, thick, and luscious.
It was neatly trimmed, not daring to curl too much under his strait-laced demeanor.
His dark green eyes, unlike my light green, were sharp and assessing, willing anyone to lie in his presence just so he could call them out.
And although he had nice lips, the constant frown ruined the effect his chiseled jaw, which was covered by a shadow of a beard, could have evoked.
“Yes, well, I was just congratulating the two of them for a job well done. Aurora was thoroughly impressed and refused to work with anyone else. I will allow you to go about your evening. Expect to receive the contract from Aurora’s lawyers on Monday.”
“Should we be expecting them at the end of the business day?” I couldn’t help but dig into him, wanting to continue our banter. Verbally sparring with him hurts a lot less than physically, I thought, flexing my still bruised hand.
Mr. Easton’s hawk-like gaze caught me, and a flicker of movement on one side of his pouty lips could have been a ghost of a smile.
“I think we can get it to you before end of business day. I’ll let you go. Ice that hand.” He nodded toward the hand without the flowers and turned on his fancy shoes, not making a noise as he headed toward the elevator.
“We’ll follow you out,” Bradford said, placing his palm on my lower back. “Do you have everything you need?”
I nodded, my eyes straying back to Mr. Easton. I wanted to flip him off, but I refrained since he did just offer us our biggest account to date.
Mr. Easton quirked his eyebrow when he stepped in and turned toward the open elevator door. I put on my biggest smile, allowing Bradford to lead me into the elevator.
“We should celebrate,” Bradford stated.
I sneezed loudly.
Jules grabbed the flowers out of my hand. “I’ll take these.”
Mr. Easton watched the exchange, and I knew he picked up on the fact that I was allergic to the red roses, while Bradford was oblivious to the fact.
“Why would you take them?” Bradford asked as Mr. Easton cleared his throat.
“Because I borrowed Rachel’s vase, so I’ll put them in water when I get home. Just in case you go to Rachel’s house and not yours.”
It was the worst explanation, but Bradford once again let it go.
“No celebrating for me. I have plans tonight. You two lovebirds have a blast,” Jules said, chewing on her lip.
“Call me if you need me, okay?” I said. I had momentarily forgotten what Jules’ plans were for the night, but I wanted to let her know she had my support.
“I’ll be fine, Mom,” she joked as the elevator dinged and slid open. “And call me if anything happens.” Jules strutted out, but before she made it three steps she glanced back.
“Oh, and, Bradford, Rachel’s nails are freshly manicured if there’s any special pictures you need to take.” With that she winked and sauntered out of the lobby, taking every man and woman’s attention with her.
Mr. Easton coughed, and I glanced back at him to see the scowl of the century gracing his infuriating face.
“Goodnight, Mr. Easton,” I called out as Bradford intertwined our hands, checking out my demure French manicure.
“Goodnight, Ms. Rachel,” was his stuffy response.
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Easton. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again since you’ll be working with my girl.”
“Actually, I don’t think I’ll ever see Ms. Rachel again, being that it will be my niece’s project her company is working on. I have more important things to do than watch over a silly project.”
Bradford’s hand contracted on my lower back. Confusion clouded his face at Mr. Easton’s hostility. I smiled even wider.
With no further comment, Bradford and I headed to the left as Mr. Easton slid into a sleek black SUV that was illegally idling in front of the building.