Chapter 4
FOUR
Mackie arrived early. I hear him laugh with the makeup and hair team when Skylar demands to make them look good, but I avoid them, not daring to be near him more than I need to in case he tempts me again.
All it would take is one look.
I need to be strong for both of us.
It’s pathetic. I should be able to keep my promise to myself and keep my distance, but when it comes to Mackie, I’m weak.
Stress makes my head ache, and the first drop hits my lip, a familiar feeling as my nose begins to gush.
Pinching my nose, I turn away before anyone sees and hurry to my office.
I collapse into my chair and grab tissues, tilting my head forward and letting it run its course.
These are getting worse, just another reason to keep everyone at a distance so they don’t worry.
If Mackie found out, he would drag me to the hospital to fix me.
The thought makes me smile. When it’s over, I wipe my face and drop the tissues into the trash under my desk before turning to check my reflection in my computer screen to look for any remaining blood.
My door opens just then, and Evan sticks his head in. “Hey, Noah, Conan is here. I wanted to introduce you guys.”
Wiping my face just in case, I stand and step around the desk, kicking the waste basket under so nobody sees the bloodstained tissues.
I shut the office door behind me and turn to Evan, who is grinning.
There is a man at his side, who I am guessing is Conan, Evan’s boss.
He sticks out like a sore thumb in the garage.
The cuffs of his long-sleeved, cream-colored shirt are pushed back to show his forearms, which drip with bracelets and diamonds.
The top buttons are undone to show sun-kissed skin, and it’s tucked into caramel slacks.
His blond hair is long and styled perfectly, and the angles of his face are those of money too.
He’s handsome, with a knowing smile on his lips as he holds out his hand.
I expected him to be older, but he’s maybe in his mid-thirties.
I shake his hand, wincing at the oil stains on mine I can never get rid of. “Conan.”
“Noah, I presume?” His voice is smooth and cultured as he glances around. “I like your garage.”
“Um, thanks.” I shove my hands into my oil-stained jeans, knowing my tank is covered in stains as well. We look like total opposites, but he doesn’t seem to care as he looks at Evan then me.
“Shall we begin?” he asks.
“Sure. I’ll show you where to set up. My drivers are still getting ready, if it’s okay?” I explain as I head through the garage, Conan and Evan in tow.
“Of course. Evan, go on, you don’t have to stick with me. I know you want to see your boyfriend,” Conan says with a knowing smile.
“Thanks, boss man!” I watch Evan dart off with a shake of my head.
“They are so cute.” Conan chuckles. “Don’t you think so?”
“They are something,” I admit as I show him the area. “Will this do?”
“Hmm.” He glances around, and I wait. “These are for marketing, yes?”
“Yes,” I admit grudgingly.
“Okay, so let’s take some here, but then let’s also take some in the garage and near the track. We’ll capture the essence of this place. It has an authentic vibe to it I think people would like.”
“You think?” I murmur as I glance around, seeing all the things I need to fix but haven’t had time.
“Absolutely.” Conan smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “If you can trust me with this, I’ll lead the way.”
“Evan recommended you, and I trust him.” I shrug.
“You’re a tough one.” He runs his eyes over me—not in a flirty way, but like he’s sizing me up. “Okay, I’ll get to it. Give me thirty minutes and then send your drivers back. There are four, correct?”
“Yes. Two backups and two mains,” I answer.
“Skylar, and who’s the other main?” His eyes turn sharp as he looks at me, and I frown.
“Mackie,” I supply.
“Nice name.” His smile seems to grow, and my eyes narrow. Possessiveness roars through me. “Okay, well, send Mackie and Skylar back in thirty minutes.” He wanders away, easily giving me orders and taking control.
I have a weird feeling, but I can’t explain why.
Now I know why.
The bastard is flirting with Mackie.
He was nice to Skylar but definitely kept a cool distance between them.
When Mackie stepped up for the first shot with the white background, though, his entire demeanor shifted.
For the tenth time, he changes Mackie’s pose himself, unlike previously when he told the others, and when he raises the camera, there’s a smile on his lips that I don’t like.
“Amazing. You’re a natural, Mackie,” he calls encouragingly, something he didn’t do with the others. “Smile for me. That’s it. Don’t hold back. We want these to represent you.”
Mackie spares me a look. I’m watching with my arms crossed, and his smile seems to wilt before he turns to the camera and forces one onto his face.
It looks fake, and I hate it. Stepping closer, I go to encourage him when Conan drops the camera and walks over.
He speaks quietly to Mackie. I’m unable to catch what he says, but in a second, Mackie laughs, and Conan steps back, snapping a picture.
My nostrils flare in anger as I dig my nails into my skin. “That feeling, old man, is jealousy,” Skylar teases at my side. “Conan is hot in that older, rich-man style, and he clearly has his eye on Mackie.”
“And why would I care?” I snap. “I’m not jealous.”
“Sure, you aren’t,” Skylar dismisses. “Damn, look at that smile. Maybe Mackie is flirting too. I guess chasing after someone who keeps shutting him down would get boring after a while. It would be nice for someone to show interest.”
His words cut me to my core, and I tell myself I don’t care. Mackie can date whoever he wants, even this pompous asshole.
“Shouldn’t you get ready for the next set?” I snarl.
Skylar holds up his hands, grinning. “Sure thing. Just saying if you aren’t careful, someone might swoop in and steal what’s yours. Claim it before it’s too late.”
Grinding my teeth, I glance back to see Conan talking to Mackie again, and they smile at each other.
Something dark and ugly unfurls in my gut, so I turn away.
They set up for the next shots, and this time, they are leaning against their cars.
Conan is good, I’ll give him that. He captures Sky’s cocky attitude and Mackie’s sweet determination.
He makes them come out of their shell, and everyone seems to be having a great time.
Except me.
I’m like a thundercloud, and everyone can sense it, giving me a wide berth—everyone but Mackie. He approaches me before his next set, shining brightly with happiness.
“Hey.” Mackie grins. “Conan is good. The pictures look great so far. He was just showing me. You must be relieved.”
“I am,” I grumble, knowing my tone is cold. “Go wait with the others. We don’t have time to fuck around.”
His smile fades and he nods, searching my gaze for a moment before he turns and walks away, looking like a rejected puppy.
Fuck, I’m an asshole, but it’s for the best.
Mackie can never be mine. I’ve accepted that. I guess that also means accepting he’ll move on.