Chapter 12 #2
Lina’s eyes matched her brother’s, although the gleam in them was slightly sharper. Along with their eyes, they also bore identical jawlines and fair, bronze skin. But while Philip resembled pictures of his father, Lina must’ve been a mix of both their parents.
Both she and Adam had the distinct, sophisticated countenance that came with their lot in life. But whereas Adam held dark clouds, Lina harbored a blend of clouds and sunshine.
James cleared his throat and smiled. “Lina, how have you been?”
Lina beamed, embracing him and pressing her cheeks to his. “James, so good to see you again! How is my brother doing?”
“Pain in my ass, as always.”
She laughed, placing a hand on the pronounced curve of her hip. A glittering engagement ring set with a halo of small diamonds around a massive, rounded diamond in the center, winked on her finger.
“I will come visit soon,” she promised.
Sophie offered her congratulations again, not missing the briefest hint of strange gratification in Lina’s gaze.
“Can I get a closer look at the ring?” Sophie pointed at Lina’s hand.
Lina nodded, holding her hand out. Her free hand threaded through Adam’s, clasping their fingers. “It is beautiful, no? He got it custom-made.”
Sophie’s brows lifted. Interesting.
James whistled and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Nice job.”
Adam offered his fiancé a small smile, his eyes shining with a warmth he couldn’t quite hide. “I was serious when I said you deserve the best.”
Lina glanced at him, her lips parted slightly. “Really?”
His gaze fastened to her lips and bounced back to her eyes. “Really.”
James cleared his throat and Lina and Adam tore their gazes from each other.
“Pues, please.” Lina gestured to the couches again. “Continue what you were talking about.”
“Um … right.” Sophie shifted her attention back to Charles, who’d been doing something on his phone.
“Well, I do work at that PR company, but we didn’t plan for this to happen.
” Her hand drifted down to James’s knee and rested there.
“But since I’m not directly overseeing his case, we thought it’d be fine to date. ”
Charles pounced. “Yes, but you’re not dating, are you?”
She smiled, giving James’s knee a squeeze to tell him to keep quiet. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re not dating,” Charles repeated. “No society papers know, nor anyone of standing beside the people in this room. Why?”
She smiled woodenly and gathered her words. “I—”
“Sophie’s on her way to becoming the account director for her PR company,” James cut in.
“Uh … he’s exaggerating. I haven’t been there long enough yet,” she corrected.
Dammit, she hadn’t wanted to let loose the fact that she was going for a promotion. It would give her a boost with Charles, but it also meant giving him the impression she solely wanted to use James for his power.
Adam took a sip of his whisky, intertwining the fingers of his free hand in his fiancée’s atop her knee. “How long have you been there?”
“About five years,” Sophie admitted. “I’ve got enough experience, too.”
“Which is?” Charles asked.
“I don’t think she has to answer that,” James said. “If she says she’s got enough, then she does.”
Charles stared his son down, and if looks could kill, James would be dead and gone.
“Uh, well. It certainly seems like enough to me,” Lina cut in. Her fingers had closed over Adam’s, and her thumb absentmindedly stroked against his skin.
Sophie’s lips curved up.
Not only did Lina own her family’s company back in Spain, but she also did a damn good job running it.
If someone in such high standing in a male-dominated field thought her ambitions were warranted, that had to count for something, didn’t it?
Charles flashed an icy smile. “Well. Let’s hope she really does like you for you, then.”
Sophie laughed awkwardly and cut James a look.
A murderous glint lay in his eyes, but a forced chuckle slipped from his lips a moment later.
After dinner, James’s dad moved things over to the living room again, where whisky and dessert would be served.
Adam and Lina had left, given their drive to Stamford, where they’d stop before heading back to Boston. James’s dad excused himself to the bathroom.
Sophie glanced toward the entry and figured she’d take advantage of her and James having the room while she could.
“We’re winning.” The cut of the cool glass in her hand was a heavy contrast to the alcohol pooling in her belly.
James stared at a painting on the wall and nodded. “Yes, we are.”
Over the course of the night, Charles continued to prod at Sophie and James with questions that Sophie recognized as meant to catch them off guard. But she’d readily combatted each one.
Slowly, Charles’s answers became less jaded, and his expression morphed from disdain into impressed.
Sophie blew a breath out of her lips.
Meeting Charles made her reflect on how much she loved her job.
Carefully shifting the chess pieces across the board, never making too sudden a move. Then, watching everything come together into your ideal outcome.
When Sophie first entered the PR field, the adrenaline rush scared her. But now, she enjoyed the excitement.
James pushed his plate of cake over to her. “Here, take this.”
“Thanks.” She picked up the plate and pursed her lips as a dab of frosting smeared onto her finger. Setting it down again, she reached for a tissue. “I thought you had a massive sweet tooth?”
“I do.” Taking her hand, he swooped forward and captured her finger in his mouth.
Heat poured into her belly and settled in her cheeks as his tongue moved.
He released her finger and leaned back, cutting her a wink.
Her jaw dropped and she fixated her gaze on the ceiling as a whirlwind blew through her, disrupting her organized thoughts. Maybe … maybe they could make what they had official.
Oliver was right; feelings had gotten involved, and if Sophie was being honest with herself, they were present from the beginning.
Wasn’t this whole thing based on feelings anyway? You couldn’t let him go, and neither could he let you.
If that was the case and they were still able to hide what they really felt for each other, then why not just make it public?
You don’t even work at the same company. You wouldn’t be breaking any HR codes. And wouldn’t it be nice not to have to duck in dark corners anymore? Wouldn’t it—
No.
None of that mattered when the weight of the glass depended too much on gossip and hearsay, and if Sophie let it drop …
She wasn’t ready for it to shatter, or where the shards would fly.
She cleared her throat and turned toward him.”James—”
She squinted in the dim light and frowned, all previous thoughts forgotten. “If you’re not eating, maybe you should lay off the alcohol.”
His cheeks boasted a red flush, and she didn’t need him saying anything that would lead to him putting his foot in his mouth.
He cast her a lazy smile. “I’ll be fine.”
Someone cleared their throat, and her head whipped toward the entry where Charles stood.
“Can I talk to my son for a moment alone?” he asked.
She nodded, moving into the hall. The sour look gracing Charles’s face, like he’d sucked on a lemon, swam before her eyes.
And we thought we were winning.
Charles’s voice floated out of the room, bouncing in the airy hallway. “Well. It looks like she actually gives a damn about you. Congratulations.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asked.
Sophie froze.
She should walk away. All she would do was hurt herself and give herself something new to worry over too late at night, but she couldn’t help it. Her feet stayed rooted to the ground as the pop of a cork burst through the air, followed by liquid glugging.
“Don’t think I don’t see what you two are playing at,” his dad continued. “But I have to hand it to you. She knows what she’s doing. No wonder you went to her agency. But don’t you think that there’s some power imbalance here?”
“What?”
“You heard me,” Charles said. “Unless you haven’t thought of it?”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know who I’m talking about,” James snapped.
The edge in his voice cut her and she winced. Oh, God. It’s his mom.
Pressing herself to the wall, Sophie inched toward the living room.
Charles’s eyes were wide. “Don’t you dare bring her into this. Our situations are different.”
Twin patches of red marred James’s cheeks, and cold leeched into Sophie’s own. Fuck, she had to get back in there.
“Are they?” James demanded. “I figured it out over the years. Mom only married you for your money and a green card. Do you think she would’ve gone for a hypocritical bastard otherwise?”
His dad’s face contorted in rage. “You ungrateful piece of shit. After all I’ve done for you over the years, you think you can talk to me like that?”
But either James ignored the words being launched at him, or he chose not to hear them because he let out a laugh. “You’re just proving my point.”
His dad’s eyes narrowed. “And you think that woman will stay with you forever? You think she won’t leave when she realizes she can’t get your money? Watch yourself, James.”
Sophie bristled, fingers digging into the wall. Who the hell did Charles think he was?
James scoffed. “Or you’ll what, cut me off? I don’t take my money from you anymore.”
His dad’s jaw hardened and he opened his mouth before pausing. Tilting his head slightly, he sighed and shut his mouth. His spine somehow straightened even more, and he rested both his hands on the credenza.
“Enough. You’re drunk, James,” he said curtly. “I won’t argue with you when you won’t be able to see reason.”
Sophie had a feeling no one would be able to see Charles’s reasons even when they were stone-cold sober.
She stepped back into the room, not bothering to keep her approach muted. Her slippers slapped the hardwood.