Chapter Six
Six
Sophie
“I should’ve put two and two together,” Sophie said.
Crossing her arms, she leaned against the wall as James pushed into the stairwell.
Light bags hung under his eyes, and his hair was a little disheveled, but he still charmed her in his button-down and dress pants. Since the meeting ended, he’d cuffed his sleeves once again at the elbows, showing off that devastating tattoo and a brilliant Piaget watch.
“And I almost did,” she continued, pushing aside the aching in her heart. “When I saw your cup in Luc’s car, I should’ve realized you were the same person as the email. Also, not associated with the shipping company, hm?”
“Surprise.” James winced. “To be honest, when I saw your email signoff, I was scared it was you, but I convinced myself otherwise.”
Because, like me, you didn’t want it to be.
Pushing off the wall, her heels clacked the short distance to the railing. White-knuckling the cool metal, she closed her eyes. Her heart beat a mile a minute, and the back of her neck broke out in a cold sweat. She didn’t trust her legs to bear her full weight.
So stupid of me not to take that extra step. Who else would it be?
How had she messed up like this?
After the revelation the other night, she finally looked him up, and a floodgate slammed open, refusing to close.
Statistics and article headlines bombarded her from every direction, and everything from the fine watches to the Amex Black Card he flashed at Joseph’s made sense.
However, when the email arrived, the ‘urgent’ label turned it into a rush job. She hadn't even noticed the same names.
“So,” she began. “What does this mean for tomorrow?”
Don’t say what I think you—
“Simple. Tomorrow’s off.”
There it is.
Turning, she leaned back against the rail, stretching her arms out behind her and bracing them on the metal. She cocked her head. “Do you really want that?”
His gaze found hers, and the severity of longing resting there cast her into a wall of fire so hot she dissolved before she reached it.
“No,” he admitted. “But we can’t. You know we can’t.”
She dipped her chin. She might not be overseeing his campaign herself, but she did work closely with Marilyn.
While her boss wasn’t one to be swayed, the public didn’t know that, and Sophie was Marilyn’s close confidant.
Whether Sophie wanted it to be or not, James’s campaign was within the realm of her responsibility. If it got out that she was dating him, neither of them needed to point out the significant conflicts of interest or the scandal that was sure to follow.
‘Was anything you reported on James Tian or his company true?’ phantom reporters demanded of Marilyn. ‘Did you know Sophie Huang would be the Devil on your shoulder, so to speak?’
Sophie swallowed hard. But, no … they weren’t dead in the water before they started. She wouldn’t let them be.
A gust of air coasted through her lips. “Then what if we didn’t date?”
His brow furrowed. “Come again?”
Stepping out on the ledge in her stomach, she flirted with precariousness. “We don’t date, but we do something else?”
The words crept forward into the silence ticking between them, but the last thing she wanted was to stuff them back in her mouth.
“I still don’t think I understand.”
“Look, I don’t want to let you go, and it’s the same for you, right? But reversed?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Alright, then we don’t have to let each other be the ones that got away.”
Trepidation fluttered in her chest and her lungs knotted themselves. “It’s like I said. We don’t date, we just … do other things.”
He cleared his throat and tugged at his collar, exposing those dark tendrils. “Are you asking me to be fuck-buddies?”
She flushed. Well, when he put it like that …
“I mean, we can’t exactly be Friends-With-Benefits, can we?” she reasoned.
“We can if we become friends. But I thought we were already friendly enough.” A smile tugged his lips. “I mean, you did take my breakfast.”
Scarlett heated her cheeks again. “You offered. Besides, if you didn’t want me to say yes, would you have even tried in the first place?”
He tilted his head. “I guess not.”
“Exactly.” She pursed her lips. “We have a no-strings-attached situation. We hang out as friends, but that’s it. No dates. And aside from close, close friends, no one finds out about it, got it?”
His shoulders tilted up. “But how would we keep people from finding out?”
Sophie cleared everything from her head, telling her she couldn’t do it. She could and she would. “We be very careful.”
He snorted. “Thanks for the guarantee.”
She offered a small curtsy, the consequences of one misstep floating on a silver platter before her.
Whispers and gossip always did the most harm. The reputation she worked so hard to build for herself would swirl down the drain, not to mention their efforts at a positive endorsement for Lotus would become an unfair smear campaign.
And yet … no fear filled her stomach as she stepped up to the edge of the cliffside.
His fingers tapped on his biceps, drawing her attention once again to the striking black ink and flitting her mind to dangerous places.
A breath escaped her and she wet her lips. “So?”
His gaze flicked to her tongue, and something snapped into place in his brown eyes. “Good thing I like complicated.”
“Good.” She smiled ruefully. Consternation skipped alongside her heartbeat, but contentment danced down her limbs.
“So, how about coming over later tonight?” He cocked his head. “I can grab some snacks.”
“Someone’s eager,” she teased.
“There's no pressure to do anything,” he clarified. “I’m never going to do that to you. But I do want to spend time with you as a friend.”
After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, text me details. If you’ll excuse me.”
Wiping her palms on the folds of her dark green skirt, she moved toward the door, nerves shaking.
James caught her wrist as she passed, and her breath hitched.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” His cologne—a woodsy, midnight scent—summoned images of fresh rain and shadows twisting at twilight. “I’ll see you later?”
She nodded, not loosening her wrist from his grasp.
“I don’t get it. Why didn’t you guys stick to your original plan?” Oliver asked. “No one has to find out.”
“Because as a client of Marilyn’s, he would have to come in for meetings with us,” Sophie explained.
“Tell us something we don’t know, Soph,” Chloe deadpanned.
Sophie rolled her eyes with affection. “You know what I mean. If we decide to date, things will be that much harder. Anyone will be able to tell, and that’s a risk we can’t take.”
Chloe frowned. “Won’t that still be the case if it’s physical, though? I don’t know about you, but I personally don’t think I can look at someone the same after I’ve seen them naked.”
Sophie snorted as her phone buzzed in her pocket. “Sure, but if we keep it physical, that’s all it’s going to be. There won’t be any feelings involved.”
“There are always feelings involved,” Oliver countered. “Whether that’s now or later.”
He had a point, but even though Sophie tried to cover all their bases, it was impossible. All they could do was pray for the best.
Pulling out her phone, she bit back the smile threatening to mold to her lips as she read the text.
James had sent her his address, along with a movie trailer and a brief message.
“What is it?” Oliver asked.
She showed her screen, and his eyebrows shot into his hairline. “A movie? Don’t you think that sounds too much like a date?”
She pushed her carton of fries toward him. “We’re friends, Ol.”
He accepted the food with a pained expression and exchanged looks with Chloe.
Sophie frowned. “What?”
Chloe shook her head. “Nothing, it’s just … I get what Ol’s worried about. What if James isn’t on the same page as you? What if he’s looking for something more than you want to give?”
Sophie shook her head. “Trust me, I made it clear this morning that isn’t what we’re doing.”
She had, hadn’t she?
But now that she thought about it, that phrase never actually left her mouth. What if—
No. She wasn’t going to go down that path. Even if she hadn’t definitively said it, James knew what their boundaries were.
She slurped the rest of her soda. “Where is this coming from, anyway? Ol, I know you have a little sister, but that doesn’t mean you need to play ‘protective older brother.’”
“I’m not, asshole.” Oliver ate a fry, chewing and talking around the food. “I’m playing the friend who doesn’t want to see your heart broken.”
She crumpled her burger wrapper into a tight ball. “Well, thanks, but I can handle my own decisions.”
He held his hands up in defense. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. All I’m saying is we all need people who aren’t afraid to call out our bad decisions.”
“Park Baek-Hyun,” Chloe warned.
Sophie raised a brow. “You think I’m making a bad decision?”
Oliver winced. “Honestly, Soph? It depends on how you play it, and it starts with what James thinks of your whole arrangement.”
She tipped her head up to take in the full scope of the building.
It had taken her twenty minutes by subway to get to the address James texted her, and she gaped at the sleek, glass building before her.
He warned her in advance that it would be a lot, but that was an understatement.
The building shouldn’t have surprised her, given his career and family’s money. Still, she couldn’t help but gawk at the lit mahogany walls and towering ceilings as she checked in with security and headed toward the elevators.
Pressing the button for the top floor, she stepped out when the doors slid open.
James padded through an archway, barefoot, his hair flopping across his forehead, any remnants of gel gone. A damp black T-shirt clung to his muscles, stretching across broad shoulders, and revealing the tendrils on his neck as the tips of flames.
Her breath spiraled out in a dizzying loop.
James, in a suit, exuded majesty. But James, in casual wear, blazed with resplendence.
“Hi.” Droplets of water swung from his hair.