Chapter 7
SEVEN
CRESSIDA
“You can’t force me to stay here,” I say to Arlo.
“Of course he won’t,” Cora says. “Want to go to the bathroom?”
I nod my head, and Arlo eyes her but says nothing as we head to the restroom.
“So, he ambushed you and didn’t tell you what the event was tonight?” she guesses.
“Yes. I agreed to come here with him in exchange for an interview,” I tell her.
When we reach the bathroom, I enter a stall and sit down on the closed toilet lid.
I don’t need to pee. Instead, I need a moment to gather myself because I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with everything right now.
Placing my head in my hands, I try to catch my breath and tell myself everything will be okay.
I’m a badass bitch.
Who cares that I’m underdressed and people I admire and respect are staring at me, looking down on me?
Maybe he brought me here to embarrass me.
He will not win this.
Not at all.
“Did you see the woman with Soren?” I hear a woman scoff, and my head lifts at the mention of his name.
Fuck my life, they’re talking about me.
“Yes. What is she even wearing? If she was hoping to stand out, she is, but not in a good way, that’s for sure,” another woman says. I stand, flush the toilet, and reach for the handle, but I pause when they speak again.
“He wouldn’t go for someone as low as her anyway. We all know he only fucks models. Her ass is so big that those pants barely fit.”
I crane my neck over my shoulder to look at my ass, then shrug. I think these pants make my ass look good, bitches.
Fuck it!
Unlocking the door, I push it open to find Miranda and another woman standing there, touching up their makeup in the mirror. They don’t notice me until I step up to the sink directly next to them.
“I think my ass looks amazing in these pants. Do you disagree?” I say as casually as I can.
“I think you have a mighty fine ass,” Cora chimes in as she steps from a stall and moves to the sink to wash her hands.
Miranda’s eyes are narrowed on me, but she doesn’t say anything. She seems to be one of those women who talks shit about you behind your back but is nice to your face until they get what they want.
I don’t fuck with women like that.
“Maybe he thinks I’m a model, especially with how loud he screamed my name last week,” I chirp as I push through the bathroom door. Cora follows me, and as soon as the doors shut, she starts laughing.
“You should have seen their faces. You know he’s considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors, right?”
Oh, don’t I know it. A lot of the women in the office talk about him, gushing and carrying on about how handsome he is.
“Did you really see him last week?” she asks as we make our way back to where Arlo stands, waiting for us. Soren is on the stage, accepting an award, but his attention is on me as I walk across the room.
When we reach Arlo, I stop and glance at Soren before leaning toward Cora and whispering, “I did. He threw me over his shoulder and told me to stop stalking him.” My admission comes with a mischievous smile.
Soren’s eyes narrow at my expression, but he finishes his acceptance speech before he walks off the stage and heads directly to where we’re standing.
“Congratulations, Soren,” Cora says as he stops at my side. I cross my arms over my chest so he can’t grab my hands. Just as he turns toward me, Miranda joins us.
Really, this bitch is trying way too hard.
“That was an amazing speech, Soren,” she coos.
“How did it start again?” I ask, and her eyes narrow into tiny slits as she glares at me.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” she asks, as if I’m not important enough for her to listen to.
“How did my speech start?” Soren asks, and Miranda’s cheeks redden, as she places her hands on her chest again.
“Oh, you know…” She waves it off.
“No, I don’t,” he says, brow raised.
“She didn’t hear a thing you said because she was in the bathroom telling her friend how you only fuck models and that my ass is too big for your liking,” I happily share.
Someone coughs in the awkward silence that follows my words, but I don’t care.
Soren’s intimidating gray gaze lands on me.
I don’t care if what Miranda said is true.
Hell, I don’t care if I’m embarrassing him right now.
He should never have brought me here to begin with, especially dressed the way I am.
Asshole.
“Do you think I don’t like your ass?” he asks me.
I’m a little surprised he would ask me that, but I raise a perfect brow at him and reply, “No, you love it.” I smile, but his mouth remains in a tightly pressed line as he turns back to Miranda.
“I think it’s best you don’t talk about me or Cressida again. You have no idea who I fuck, as I don’t share those details. Please leave.” Her eyes go wide at his dismissal.
“You heard him. Bye.” My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed as I wave a hand at her, and Soren takes the opportunity to grab it and wrap his hand around mine.
Miranda notes the action, then raises her nose and storms off.
When it’s just the four of us again, I growl, “Stop grabbing my hand.” I try to tug free, but he won’t let go.
“I’m trying to keep my stalker close at all times,” he says with a straight face, but there’s a hint of amusement shining in his eyes.
“It was lovely to see you again, Cora. You too, Arlo,” I say, then I turn to Soren. “How about that interview now?”
“Who said I agreed to do that tonight?”
“You said on one condition,” I argue.
“Oh, no, you are sorely mistaken. I never said when I would grant you the interview.” He turns to Arlo and Cora and says, “It’s time I get Hurricane home.”
“Hurricane?” I scoff.
“Yes, you are unpredictable, powerful, and at times erratic, Hurricane. So, from now on, that’s how I will address you.” He then looks back at Arlo and says, “Goodnight,” before he leads me away.
“Come along, Hurricane, it’s your bedtime.”
“I guess we’re leaving now,” I say over my shoulder to Cora, who smiles and offers me a wave.
We walk past Miranda on the way out, and Soren doesn’t even glance at her. I watch the hurt cross her face at his lack of attention toward her. She should be thankful it’s not her being dragged around like a rag doll.
When we make it outside and the cold air hits me, I make another attempt to shake his hold, to no avail. We head to his waiting car, and he opens the door and hovers nearby as I get in.
“You can drop my hand now.”
“Just making sure you got here safely.” He finally lets me go. “Now, would a man who is as ruthless as you make me out to be, do something like that?” I have one foot in the car when he says that, and I look at him over my shoulder.
“Who told you I said that?”
He motions for me to get in the car. I do, and he follows me, shutting the door behind us with a quiet finality.
He sits too close, with his thigh pressed against mine, warm, solid, and intentional.
His scent curls in the air between us, something clean and sharp with an edge I can’t name.
I’m annoyed by how aware of him I am. How aware he knows I am.
“I hear a lot of things,” he says, voice low and unreadable.
“I’m sure you do. So, what are the things you’ve heard about me?”
The car drives in the direction of my home.
“I know you’ve been married,” he states.
“I have. My ex-husband is a fantastic man,” I say with pride.
“If he’s so fantastic, why are you no longer fucking him?”
“Who said I’m not?”
“I would think his fiancée would have something to say about that.” I go to open my mouth to tell him he’s crazy, that Noah isn’t seeing anyone.
But then I remember I haven’t asked Noah about his personal life for a long time, until the other night when I asked if he had a date, and he replied no.
It’s very strange that he would keep that from me.
I don’t know if he’s seeing someone, but it wouldn’t bother me.
Sure, it would shock me, but only because he’s never mentioned it.
Though when we talk, it’s usually about Oliver, as we agreed long ago not to discuss our relationships.
Yes, as a mother, I want to know who will be in my child’s life, and I thought he would tell me if it was ever serious.
And now I’m curious if what Soren said is actually the truth or if he said it to see if he can get a rise out of me.
“You did know, didn’t you?”
“Know what?”
“That your ex is engaged.”
“Sure.” And the lie tastes bitter on my tongue as I look away.
“Hurricane.”
I face him again. “What?” I hate that I answered to that name, and I’m sure my scowl proves that.
“Let’s agree not to lie to each other.” His expression shifts.
“You can agree, but I don’t have to agree to anything you say,” I reply.
The car slows down, and I see we’re pulling up in front of my building. When I look back at Soren, I find his dark-gray eyes are still locked on me, studying me as if I’m some sort of puzzle.
“Thanks for the eventful night. It’s always fun when you go out with a man only to be humiliated.”
“I never humiliated you.” His brow furrows.
Blowing out a large breath, I sit up a little straighter.
“No, of course not. You were so amazing, making me go to an event in my work clothes, knowing that my peers would be there dressed in their finest. But, no, there was no humiliation whatsoever.” I say that last part with so much fake enthusiasm that I hope he understands just how fucking sarcastic I am being right now.
“I see…” he says, and the car stops.
“Thank you for an amazing evening.”
“That’s sarcasm again, isn’t it?”
I open the door and step outside. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll let you work that one out, Mr. Know-It-All.” Then I slam the door shut and stride up the walkway to my building. I don’t bother looking back to see if he’s watching me.
I’m emotionally exhausted right now.
I had a busy day at work, then followed it with a night where I didn’t even get to eat, and my stomach is grumbling so loudly it’s practically protesting.
My whole body’s running on caffeine and irritation.
And don’t even get me started on the woman who basically told me I’m not good enough for a man like Soren.
The audacity. No one gets to say that to me, ever!
I have worked too damn hard and pushed through too much to let some stranger decide my worth.
I should be the one to judge that, not a stranger who doesn’t even know my story.
Slamming the front door, I storm straight to the kitchen. The sound echoes through the empty house, matching the thrum of frustration in my chest. I yank open the fridge, grab the first thing I see, and start shoving it into my mouth without even tasting it.
My fingers are already flying across the keyboard as I pull my laptop closer, searching for my ex-husband’s name, trying to find out if he really is engaged and just forgot to mention it.
And God, I hope Soren isn’t right about this.