Chapter 23 #2
“Actually, I’d like to discuss the project with you at some point tonight. I know shoptalk isn’t ideal at an event like this, but it won’t take long.”
“Of course… I’d love to. I’ve just got to speak to a few of the guests, but I’ll come find you in a little while. I’d actually like to introduce you to some people.”
“Sure.” I force a smile as both he and Avery turn and disappear into the crowd.
“Well… No wonder Phoenix doesn’t like him. He looks at you like you’re food.”
“Thankfully, I won’t have to see him again after tonight. Also, club owner?”
“The sperm donor will be in the ground one day, so it’s just a matter of time.”
“Is he leaving it to you?”
“He’d better be, or I’ll drag him out of hell, jam a pen in his cold, dead hand, and make him sign the papers before I kick him back down just in time to be fucked dry on the devil’s pitchfork.”
My ego’s been stroked raw tonight. I don’t need smoke blown up my ass to know what I’m capable of, but the truth is, I don’t belong here. These aren’t my people, not really. I live in a different world from the one I grew up in, but this… this is something else entirely.
Still, I’m glad I came because I’ve made some connections, and not everyone in the room turned out to be a soulless, pretentious dick.
I scan the room, something I’ve been doing all night.
Phoenix is always there—never in my way, but always positioned where I can see him if I need to.
Right now, he’s near the edge of the dance floor, standing beside Lianna, with his arms crossed over his chest. Meanwhile, I’m stuck in a conversation with Francesca Faulkner, founder of some luxury beauty brand I’ve never used but keep hearing about through the influencers who flood my feed.
“May I interrupt?” James’s voice reaches me, and when I turn, he’s standing there with his hand held out. “Would you like to dance?”
“I don’t dance.”
“If you want to talk about the project, then this is your moment. I’ve got a mile-long list of people waiting for my attention.”
There it is, pressure disguised as politeness.
“One dance,” I say, placing my hand in James’s before I can overthink it, because it’s possible that Phoenix is going to kill me.
I make my way onto the dance floor with him, slipping into his space while other couples sway to what might be the most boring music I’ve ever heard.
James takes my hand, his fingers closing around mine, and wraps his other arm around my waist, his hand settling low on my back, where it had better fucking stay.
We start to move, and he looks down at me with eyes that are definitely a little drunk.
“So talk to me. What’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem, but I wanted to let you know that you won’t be dealing with me moving forward.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I have a talented team, and now that the redesign is complete, they’ll be your point of contact for anything you need going forward.”
He glances around the room, his jaw tight, like he’s trying to process the information without making a scene.
“Yeah… no.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s not going to work for me.” His smile is gone now, replaced by something colder. “It was you I wanted. That was the deal. And that’s nonnegotiable.”
“James, I’ve built the entire redesign from the ground up. My job is done. Now I need to shift my focus to other projects that actually require my attention.”
He steps in closer, his hand tightening slightly at my back. “Are they paying you what I am?”
“It isn’t about the money.”
He leans in and whispers in my ear, “You know you’ve been very accommodating so far, and I’d hate for people to get the wrong impression about you—that you’re difficult or unprofessional. You know how quickly reputations can crumble in this industry. One word in the wrong ear…”
“Go ahead and tell them whatever you want, James. My work speaks for itself, and I’ve never had a problem with a client before.”
“Tell me… why are you fighting this so hard? Is it because of your boyfriend?” The way he says it, like Phoenix is some inconvenient obstacle, makes my blood boil. “I can be very discreet, Shannen.”
His hand lowers to my ass, and he doesn’t realize yet just how badly he’s fucked up.
“Lift your hand before you fucking lose it,” I grit through my teeth, but he just smiles, keeping it there. When I try to push him away, he pulls me tighter.
“Shh, you’re making a scene,” he murmurs, glancing around as if I’m the one behaving inappropriately.
“Get your fucking hand off me.”
“You’re a beautiful woman wearing a dress like this, dancing willingly with a man who’s offered you nothing but opportunity…
” He pauses, letting the implication hang between us.
“Who do you think they’ll believe when I tell them you wanted this and that you were just scared your boyfriend would find out? ”
“Don’t fuck with me, James. I’m not like the other women you’ve silenced.”
If I wasn’t sure about Phoenix’s accusations before, I am now, because, for one split second, I see the mask slip.
“Such a shame,” he continues, his seedy gaze trailing lazily down my body. “I was really looking forward to playing with you and breaking in that fire you have.”
My spine locks up before I even turn, but I do it anyway, and everything in me goes cold.
Phoenix is pushing through the crowd, and whatever part of him was holding the leash, whatever restraint he’s been clinging to all night, it’s gone. Now he just looks like violence dressed in a suit, and I know before a word is spoken, before a hand is even raised, that I’ve already lost him.