Chapter Six #2
“Hey.” Her gaze snagged on his sleeve tattoo. “Um, the elevator stops in your apartment.”
A grin tugged at his lips. “Yup, that’s kind of how a penthouse works.”
“Right …”
“Uh … so Philip knows about you coming over.” James checked his phone. “He should be coming over to drop something off, so don’t be surprised if he pops in at some point.”
Sophie took off her shoes. “Breaking our terms already?”
“What? We could tell close friends.”
She grinned at his expression. “I’m teasing.”
He leaned against the doorway. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t tell Luc.”
“Was that because you haven’t seen him yet?”
“Maybe …”
She laughed and glanced around the foyer, resisting the urge to hang her mouth open. Moving into the living room, she took in the tall ceilings and ample room. The entire place she shared with Chloe in Chinatown could easily fit in there, and there would still be space to move around.
Her eyes caught on a cracked door. “Is that a home office?”
“It used to be a half-bath,” he supplied. “But I converted it.”
“Can you do that?”
His silence was answer enough. When you had enough power and money, you didn’t need rules.
She cleared her throat, stopping in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. “I can’t believe you live here.”
Well, no, that’s a lie.
Covey got its fair share of wealthy clients, but there was a difference between being in the presence of money and this.
But James didn’t display any of the cocky behavior she usually observed in wealthy men.
He sat on the couch, his reflection reclining against the cushions. “To tell you the truth, I don’t. I just get paid to answer the door in my pajamas.”
She turned. “Oh, I see. Reasonable wages, I hope.”
“Very,” he quipped. “Like what you see?”
She tilted her head. “I can’t tell if that’s a come-on or not.”
He laughed and motioned toward the glasses and pitcher sitting beside a bowl of popcorn and a few bags of chips. “I wasn’t sure what drinks you liked outside of coffee, so … I hope you’re okay with water. If not, I can run and go get some so—”
The elevator dinged, and a moment later, Philip and a woman filed into the room, talking amongst themselves.
With her perfect posture, delicately arched brows, and fine light jewelry, she was nothing less than a portrait of elegance.
“James, I—” she stopped short and brushed an ebony gaze over Sophie. “Oh. Hello.”
Sophie cocked her head. “Hi.”
“Gemma Adeyemi, Lotus’s COO.” She extended her hand, a pearlescent bracelet shining against her rich, umber skin.
She offered a close-lipped smile. As she moved her chin upward, her smart updo showcased the cut of her jaw.
“I didn’t know James had a girlfriend. He doesn’t like to talk about his personal life with us that much, though I’m surprised Philip didn’t mention it. ”
Sophie snorted and shook Gemma’s hand, the other woman’s grip soft but sure. “Nice to meet you, but I’m not James’s girlfriend. More of a friend.”
Gemma raised a brow. “I see. Well, in that case, I didn’t know James had friends outside of us, Philip, and Lucien.”
“Excuse me?” James snapped.
The others laughed, and Gemma checked her phone. Her lips pressed together. “I’ve gotta get going. James, can I talk to you for a moment?”
He nodded and followed Gemma into the foyer, leaving Philip and Sophie behind.
“Is everything okay?” Sophie asked.
“Yes.” Philip raked a hand through his hair, his short-sleeved tee shifting to reveal a tattoo of interwoven flowers winding down his bicep. “Gem was still at the office when I went to pick up some stuff. She was rechecking the system, trying to see if there was anything we missed.”
“Oh.” Sophie crossed her arms. “And did she?”
Philip tilted his head, setting down the papers he held onto the kitchen counter. “No, unfortunately. Whoever did this covered their ass completely. But she wanted to tell James in person what she did.”
“Oh?”
“Gem’s leaving at the end of next month, and I guess she doesn’t want to go in the middle of a crisis.
She managed to convince one of our clients to come back.
” Admiration filled his expression. “She said she told them this entire thing was temporary and at the end of it, they’d still be in need of our services. ”
Sophie nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Why leave now and lose their spot in line when they’re just going to come back later? But how…?”
Philip snagged a glass from the coffee table and filled it with water. “Hey, I’m not going to question the semantics. I’m just glad it happened.”
“James said at the initial meeting with Marilyn, you all had access to the filing system, right?” Sophie groaned. “God, this would be so much easier if that weren’t the case.”
“Tell me about it.”
She slid back onto the couch, resting against a pillow as her mind kicked into overdrive.
The timing of it all was a little too convenient, and wasn’t it part of Philip’s job to question the semantics? Not to mention, James would enquire about how it happened.
What if Gemma was lying to James’s face right now? What if Philip was?
Sophie’s attention shifted as he excused himself from the room.
He wouldn’t, would he?
Lotus was his best friend’s company—one he’d been a part of from the very beginning.
‘I’ve known Philip for twenty-six years,’ James’s voice floated in her mind. ‘It’s unfortunate, but he became Lotus’s CFO by being let down by the wrong people and giving up too much.’
No, there was no way. Not unless something bigger was going on, and this was the only twisted solution.
She startled as the others walked back into the room.
“Well, I should go,” Gemma announced. “It was great to meet you, Sophie. James, I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”
Philip clapped James on the shoulder. “I left the papers on the counter, cabrón. I’m going to use your bathroom.”
“Your apartment is only a few floors up!”
“Sure, but your bathroom is nicer.”
“What does that even mean?!”
“Upstairs? I thought you had the penthouse,” Sophie remarked.
“I have a penthouse here,” James corrected. “There are three.”
“Three,” she repeated faintly. “How does that work?”
“Pip’s is a little more set back than mine,” James explained. “And his balcony also faces a different way.”
“Oh, right of course,” she deadpanned. “How is it, having your best friend live so close?”
James sat beside her on the couch. “Eventful, and as you can see, I might as well start charging him rent.”
She laughed. “He um … he filled me in before. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“I get it if you don’t want to hang out tonight.” She clenched a bottle of water. “It’s a lot.”
“Thanks, but having someone else here is exactly what I need.” He rubbed his neck, the ends of his flames tattoo pulling with the motion. “Get my mind off things. Did you look at that trailer?”
Grabbing a bag of chips, she ripped it open. “Yeah, it looked interesting. Put it on.”
The issue weighed heavily on her mind, but she brushed it aside. If James didn’t want to discuss it yet, they wouldn’t.
Sighing, she stuck a chip in her mouth. Christ, how did she end up in this situation?
You put yourself here, remember?
She really hated herself sometimes.
Time fluttered and sent them through nearly half of the movie. The snacks lay decimated on the coffee table, with a few stray popcorn kernels scattered across the rug.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as James shifted, spiraling awareness to how close he was into her brain.
There was a slight gap between them, and his arm was slung over the back of the couch. But he might as well have been hugging her.
He cleared his throat and as he shifted, the hem of his shirt tugged up, exposing a strip of skin.
Her breath stuck and she stared, fixated on the puffs of his steady breaths.
Why are you acting like you’ve never seen a man’s shirt rise up? She blew a breath out of her lips. Well…not his.
An explosion triggered in the movie, and she jumped, launching herself straight into his side.
“If you wanted to hold me, you could’ve just asked.” His lips twitched.
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. And you know, I don't bite.” He smirked. “Unless you ask me to first.”
Her blood burned, and her gaze fluttered to his lips. “Has anyone ever taken you up on that?”
“Once or twice.” He grinned, his gaze bouncing quickly to her mouth before returning to her eyes. “What about you? Would you take me up on that?"
“Well, I never was afraid of a little pain.” Goosebumps raised on her skin and her breathing shallowed.
Friends. Just friends.
The mantra thumped in time to her heart, but it was quickly being obscured in the haze.
And if I don’t find it again tonight, that’s fine by me.
Her gaze flashed down to his bare skin again. Her bumping into him had driven the shirt up an inch higher, and she cleared her throat. “What’s that?”
He followed her gaze, and his cheeks flushed burgundy. “Oh, sorry. Here, let me just—”
“No.” She caught his wrist. With her free hand, she hovered the tips of her fingers above the black ink soaking his side in a thin oval. “What is that?”
In the dimmed living room, she now discerned tiny feathers amid the ink.
“How many tattoos do you have?”
He hesitated before using his free hand to tug his shirt up enough to expose the entire tattoo.
A giant feather narrowed to a point down his ribs, the tip pointing straight toward a sharp V-Cut that disappeared into his pajama pants.
She swallowed, ignoring the shadows of carved abs teasing the area where his shirt met his stomach.
“Five,” he said.
“I see.” She extended her hand toward his skin but stopped herself. Just friends.
“It’s fine.” He met her gaze.
She swallowed and traced her touch across more of his skin, escaping the boundaries of the feather, and arcing onto his stomach, beneath his shirt.
She outlined those defined abs and stilled her hand, splaying it hot across his skin.
He shuddered, his eyes fluttering into hooded half-moons. “Sophie.”