5. Parker
5
PARKER
I stare blankly at my laptop screen, my vision blurring as my eyes dry out thanks to my lack of blinking. I came into this meeting feeling confident that I was going to win Katherine over. Blake warned me about her on the way over, claiming that most meetings he had with her involved a lot of flirting on her end. Of course, I took this with a grain of salt. Blake has a habit of thinking that every woman with a pulse wants to sleep with him.
I stand up, fidgeting with the clicker that I brought as I pull up the first slide of the presentation that I prepared. “As I explained in our emails, we have an up-and-coming author that’s said to be the next big thing. We already foresee her on the New York Times Best Sellers list, and it’s projected that the book will sell thousands of copies. Of course, this is where Thrive Creative comes in. We need your help with marketing to ensure that her name gets out there properly.”
Katherine nods, clicking her pen repeatedly at a frustrating pace. “Of course. Remind me of her name?”
“Evelyn Bennett.”
Although I’ve spent the last five minutes trying to avoid looking at Dylan, I see her perk up at the mention of the name from my peripheral.
“Evelyn has built quite the social media following for herself. I follow her on pretty much every platform already. She’s been hinting at this book for months now. I’ve been dying to read it,” Dylan blurts excitedly.
I chance a full glance in her direction and see a twinkle in her eye. It’s the same look that she gets when she’s discussing something she’s passionate about. She’s always been the kind of person who shines brighter than everyone else in the room. My pulse begins to thrum in my throat.
Katherine’s head whips in her direction and gives her a threatening look. Dylan sinks back into her chair and puts her head back down to the notebook, jotting notes down quickly. My immediate reaction is to defend Dylan, but I have to remind myself that this is business.
“Sorry about that. Please continue,” Katherine mutters.
I bite back the nasty retort that’s lodged in my throat.
“Dylan is right. Evelyn has amassed a massive following over the past year. With a combined following of over 150,000 on all platforms, she has the numbers we want to help promote the book. However, she reached out to us because she wants to make sure this is done right. And that’s where you guys come in.
“We’d love to collaborate on a social media strategy for the release. We also plan to organize a book tour shortly after the release as long as the numbers look as expected. Her website, although functional, needs an update before we can release any of this information. We’re hoping to set up an email drip campaign in a couple of weeks to encourage people to preorder the book, too.”
I sneak yet another look at Dylan, whose eyes haven’t left her lap since she first mentioned knowing Evelyn’s background. My breath catches as my eyes meet hers again, and I have to look back down at my keyboard.
The pale pink dress peeking out from underneath her blazer makes the green of her hazel eyes pop and her natural rosiness even more prominent. Her silky chestnut hair is styled in relaxed waves, resting behind her shoulders. Every time I see her, it feels like she’s somehow become even more beautiful than I remembered.
I toy with the ring on my pointer finger, an anxious cue I’ve had ever since I was younger, before standing up straight and looking back towards Katherine. This is not the time to get caught up in Dylan’s beauty. I can do that in the comfort of my own office. Or when I get home and take a scalding hot shower in search of a release. In more ways than one.
Jesus. Get a grip.
I can’t be thinking about stroking my cock while thinking about my ex-girlfriend during a work meeting. What the fuck has gotten into me? I clear my throat, hoping no one can sense where my head has gone.
“Our release date is set for May 31st, which means we only have a couple of months to accomplish all of this. I know it’s a tight deadline, but from what Blake has told me, you guys are some of the best in the business, so I know you can handle this. What do you think?”
Katherine puckers her lips, contemplating everything I’ve offered up thus far before breaking out with a wide grin.
“We can absolutely do that. Thrive Creative cherishes our relationship with Blue Bird and hopes to maintain it. Dylan will start drawing up a strategy as soon as this meeting is over and email it to you by the end of the day tomorrow,” Katherine replies.
“We revere our relationship with Thrive as well. We appreciate you guys being on board,” Blake counters as he stands up and walks toward Katherine, his palm out and ready for a handshake.
I physically recoil when I see her cheeks transform into a deep shade of red at the typical, professional gesture. I do my best not to judge someone too quickly, but she practically reeks of desperation. Maybe there is some weight to Blake’s sentiment about her flirting with anything with a penis.
I throw a quick smile in her direction, stand up, and pack my laptop into my bag. “We look forward to seeing your notes. If you have any questions, I’m just an email away.”
Katherine nods and stands to leave the conference room before subtly snapping her fingers in Dylan’s direction, calling her as if she’s a dog. Though the motion is small, I’m hyper-aware of how Dylan is being mistreated. If this client weren’t so important to my career, I would’ve walked out after the first glimpse of it. She looked uneasy the entire meeting, and I’d bet that it didn’t have anything to do with me. For once.
Dylan trails behind her, not bothering to look in my direction again. When Blake is sure the women are out of earshot, he nudges me in the ribs with his elbow.
“Dylan is a smoke show. I’m going to get her number before we head back to the office.”
It takes everything in me not to punch him square in the nose as soon as the words are out of his mouth. I love the guy. I do. But I’ve never been impressed with the way that he views women. As if building up his roster is his biggest goal in life.
“Fuck off,” I respond through gritted teeth.
“Whoa, dude, chill out. What’s the big deal?”
I throw my laptop bag over my shoulder. “Not every woman wants to sleep with you. What makes you think she’d give you her number in the first place?”
That was a mistake. A troublesome sneer grows on his face as if I’d just challenged him to a game he knows he could win. To his credit, Blake doesn’t know that Dylan is my ex. Sure, he’d seen me in rough shape from time to time when we were roommates in California, but I kept my history with her close to my chest. At that point in my life, I could barely hear her name without being on the verge of losing it. So, it was just easier not to say anything at all.
Besides, there were thousands of Dylan’s in the world. How would he know this is the one I haven’t stopped thinking about for years? That didn’t make hearing him say that he wanted to fuck her (in more or less words) any easier to swallow.
“I guarantee I can get her number in less than five minutes. Want to bet on it? The loser has to buy the other a beer after work.”
“I’d rather not,” I retort as I shove my chair a little too forcibly under the desk and stride out of the conference room. Blake’s ego is the least of my concerns right now. I need to find Dylan and make sure she’s alright.
I nearly sprint out of the room, scanning the office for Dylan. Because of the layout, I can only see miles of gray, lifeless cubicles. I hold out hope, searching for the top of her hair. That waterfall of chocolate brown hair that’s constantly perfect, no matter how little effort she put into it.
I know that she has to be here somewhere. She can’t hate me enough to leave for the day. But as I search for her among the scattered workers, she’s nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself.
I clutch my laptop bag closer to my body, tuck my chin, and head toward the front of the office. If I had her number, I’d at least shoot her a quick text and check-in. Maybe I can track her down on Facebook or Instagram. It’s not like I haven’t been able to before.
As I walk out with my dignity narrowly intact, my mind is fixated on how I’m going to social media stalk Dylan as soon as I get back on the subway. Before I can make it to the large glass front door of Thrive, I accidentally bulldoze my way over a small figure, nearly knocking them over in one fell swoop.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I ask as I grasp onto their elbow to help them maintain their balance. I let my hand fall the minute I lift my head and see who it is. Dylan.
She hastily takes three steps back, away from me. Though we’re no longer near one another, there’s a heat radiating off of her, pulling me closer like a magnet. I stifle the feeling, trying to respect the boundaries she’s setting for herself.
“We really do need to stop running into each other this way,” I quip, a poor attempt at a joke. The corner of her lip twitches, but it’s gone as quickly as it came as she pulls her bag back up on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” I repeat when she remains silent.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
She stands up a little taller, puffing out her chest. I know she’s trying to appear more confident, but it’s a mediocre job at best. I know because I’m feeling the same way.
She tears her eyes away from mine, focusing on the gray, carpeted floor in between us.
“I was actually just coming to find you. Are you alright? You looked uncomfortable in there.”
“It’s nothing. Just Katherine being Katherine.”
“It’s not nothing. She completely steamrolled you. No one deserves to be spoken to the way she spoke to you. You deserve respect.”
This catches her attention. She looks up at me, her gaze softening. I fight the urge to take her face in my hand and stroke her cheek the way I once did when she needed comforting.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s just part of the territory.”
“It shouldn’t have to be…” My voice trails off. If there’s one thing I know about Dylan, it’s that she’s stubborn. As much as I want to talk her out of dealing with the demeaning behavior I ju st witnessed, I know the more that I push, the more her guard will go up. She likes proving to people that she can achieve the impossible, no matter how small the feat. It’s always been one of her most admirable yet aggravating traits.
“Looks like we’re going to be around each other a lot more than either of us were expecting. Maybe it’s a good time to get that coffee?” I try to change the subject.
She lets out a short, jagged breath, and I can see her physically crawl back into herself. She’s shutting down on me right before my eyes.
Well, that backfired.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not going to work with you. And I still don’t want to grab a coffee.”
My head rears back, taken aback by her bluntness. My brain has a hard time differentiating between the harsh comment and a physical blow. “Am I missing something? Were you not just in the same meeting as me?”
“I was. But I’m going to tell Katherine that I can’t help with the account.”
“You think she’s just going to let you off the hook because you ask her nicely? I know I just met her, but based on how she treated you in that meeting, I don’t foresee that going very well,” I argue.
She rolls her eyes at me. I know we haven’t spoken in years, but this attitude of hers is new. She’s been known to be feisty at times, but more often than not, she was the soft-spoken one that got along with everyone. We rarely fought and never once raised our voices at one another while we were dating. Yet now she’s looking at me as if she can’t wait to get away from me. And I hate the fact that I’m turned on by it.
“I’ll come up with an excuse. Not that it’s any of your concern.”
I can’t help but laugh and throw my hands up in surrender. Yep, I’m definitely hard now .
“Alright there, killer. I figured I’d try one more time. I hope that you can get put on a different account for your sake. But if you can’t, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
She gives me a small nod with her arms crossed over her chest. “I guess so.”
I turn around and push the front door open. But, before I leave, I turn my head around and call after her one more time. She’s halfway down the office, and I take my time sweeping my eyes up her figure.
“Hey Dyl!”
She spins around, her fists clenched at her sides. “Yes?”
“You should wear that dress more often. It makes your ass look great.”
Before she can respond, I walk out into the frigid February air, a glint of amusement evident in my smirk. If she wants to play that game, so be it. She seems to have forgotten that I love games.