Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
My phone illuminates on my desk, vibrating in short bursts as three new messages come through.
Tilting it as discreetly as possible, I peek at who they’re from, smiling to myself as I read the previews.
Asshat Fiancé
Be at my office within the hour.
Please.
I love you.
It’s my first day at Avery Marx and we’re just wrapping up our last meeting for the afternoon. An expectant buzz hums through the air—four p.m. is near, and everyone is chatting about meeting up for drinks later and their other evening plans.
I was told to be here at nine and couldn’t believe it when Drue, the creative director and my new boss, told me our work day ends at four. She laughed and waved her hand, airily claiming it was no big deal.
But considering the toxicity I was previously employed at had me sometimes pulling twelve-hour days, it was a big deal.
“You did good today,” Drue praises as I’m slumped forward in the leather office chair, tucking my portfolio into my Louis Vuitton work bag.
“Thanks! Today was amazing. See you tomorrow?” The zipper slides smoothly, enclosing my belongings, and I pull the bag up to my shoulder.
“Another morning of meetings, then we’ll get to break away for a few hours of design. I’m going to Perks in the morning—do you want anything?”
Did my new boss seriously ask me for my coffee order?
“Um, yeah. That’d be great, thanks. Soy double-shot latte with two pumps of brown sugar syrup.”
She pulls out her phone and takes note of my drink, then grins as she tucks her clutch under arm. “Have a good night.”
Still dumbfounded at the complete one-eighty of work environments, I stare after her with my jaw slack.
From the table, my phone vibrates again.
Asshat Fiancé
I hope your first day of work was amazing, but I’m not sure I approve of the delay it’ll cause in your responses.
A grin pulls over my entire face, and I spend the elevator ride down texting Luciano.
It’s been five minutes.
Five minutes of me obsessively refreshing my messages.
Can you even do that on a phone?
Trust me, I figured out a way. I’ve missed you.
I miss you, too.
I’m on my way. Just need to get a cab.
Darrin’s out front. I’ve already arranged it.
How long has he been waiting?
He’ll wait all day if I ask him to.
Funny, since he’s on my payroll, not yours.
Sure about that?
He’s transporting my fiancée, so I transferred his employment over to me and gave him a raise. No more cabs. I want you safe.
That seems a bit…much?
I love you.
Okay, but in a sweet ‘we’re getting married’ kind of way or an ‘I want to wear your skin’ kind of way?
I mean, either is fine, but I want to know what I’m getting into before I put on a white dress.
Just get down here, RP.
I’ll see you soon.
Luciano’s building is practically deserted when I get there twenty-five minutes later, which is odd for a Friday afternoon, but I mind my own business and catch the elevator up to where he waits.
Excitement bubbles through my system, so excited to see him and tell him about my day. I’m still flabbergasted at the level of respect everyone at Avery Marx has for one another and their work-life balance, which I’m certain is practically unheard of in this industry.
I’m scrolling through social media on my phone when the elevator doors slide open, so I don’t immediately notice the low-lighting, flickering candles, or the scattered rose petals on the floor leading to Luciano’s office.
But when I do look up, I promptly ignore them all, my gaze settling on the man leaning against the doorframe instead. His smile is wide as his eyes roam my body from head to toe before meeting mine.
“It’s a little quiet around here.” I don’t stop walking toward him until we’re practically chest to chest. Pushing up into a tiptoe, I press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Where’s Lydia?”
“Sent her home.” Luciano’s arms wrap around my waist.
“What’s all this? Proposing again, Paladino? Because, spoiler alert, my answer will be the same every time.”
“I’d be happy to propose every single day if you wanted me to. But no, this is a different celebration.” His nose nuzzles against my neck before his teeth graze my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Oh? What are we celebrating?”
Tipping his head toward the office, he grins. “Follow me.”
Lacing our fingers together, he tugs my hand gently and leads me toward his desk.
A single manila folder sits open, with my name scrawled across the tab.
Inside of it, two pieces of paper lay next to each other.
“One is from the courthouse. Judge Sinclair signed off on the dismissal of your divorce paperwork this morning. The only thing left is to sign the termination of our contract, releasing me as your lawyer. The addendum states that you no longer need my representation, as the marriage in question was null and void.” He picks up a fountain pen from his desk and hands it to me.
“I just need you to sign on the line, baby.”
“But what if I need a divorce lawyer in the future, Luce?” I tease, my hand with the pen hovering over where I need to sign. I bite my lip to suppress the smile that’s far too big to hide, and sneak a glance at him.
His hands find my hips and he pulls me flush against his body, leaning down to my ear.
“Divorce isn’t an option for us, RP. Now sign the damn paper.
” Skating his teeth against the shell of my ear, he moves down to my neck, peppering exaggerated kisses against my skin as I do my best to sign without my hand shaking.
My legs turn to jelly, completely controlled by his touch.
Tossing the pen onto the file, I turn in his grasp, wrapping my arms around his neck.
There’s no stopping the fireworks bursting between us as our mouths crash together, meeting each other for a feverish kiss I never want to end.
He moans when our tongues meet, pulling my hips against his so I can feel his length grow between us.
“Fuck, I love you so much,” he groans, and releases one hand from my hip to reach behind me. I hear the frantic rustling of papers and open my eyes just enough so in my peripheral I see him toss the file on the office chair.
“I love you,” I breathe, then, in a swift movement, I’m lifted into his arms before he deposits me onto his desk. His arms cage me, forcing me to lean backward slightly as he transfers his weight onto his flattened palms.
Luciano’s tongue presses into my mouth, dancing with mine as he grabs onto my thighs and guides them to wrap around his waist. Splaying his hand against my lower back, he drives the kiss into something carnal and urgent, unabashedly groaning when my hips buck, chasing any friction I can get.
His chest rises and falls when he breaks our kiss, arousal evident in his darkened eyes.
“Beautiful. Intelligent. And mine, all mine.” Luciano smirks, then reaches to tug open his desk drawer.
He fishes around inside it for a moment before pulling out a hundred-dollar bill, then shifts it so it’s held between two of his fingers.
My hundred-dollar bill.
The one I gave him as a retainer.
The money he said he’d give back once I was no longer his client.
With his lips against my neck, my head tips back in pleasure, my body tingling, needing him.
Luciano’s hand plays with the hem of my sweater, his fingertips brushing against my bare skin, driving me wild.
“Who’s your fiancé, Raina?” he asks between kisses, immediately transporting me back to that meeting in his office, when I told him I lied about being engaged.
This time, though, I’m able to answer without hesitation, just before he lifts my sweater overhead.
“You.”