Chapter 13 #2
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you then,” she called as she headed for the foyer. Grabbing her purse from the hall table, she waved. “Thanks for the weekend.”
“Sophie, I—”
She held up her hand, waved, and walked into the elevator.
She disappeared behind steel doors, and he buried his head in his hands.
Fuck, this was all too much.
What deity had he pissed off to make it so the woman he wanted was the one he couldn’t have?
It proved impossible not to want something more with her. He constantly craved
it, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
God, I’m an idiot for thinking that there might ever be something between us. Screwing his eyes tighter, he groaned.
He wouldn’t be the reason she lost her chance at that promotion, or worse, her job—not after what he understood.
The elevator dinged and his head whipped up. Had she come back?
“Hey, cabrón.” Philip traipsed into the room, tapping away on his phone. “Did you see Lina’s Instagram? Or Adam’s—oh, right, I told you he requested to follow me, right? Anyway, it’s disgusting. They’re not even trying to hide their PDA.”
James chuckled, grimacing. “Well, they are engaged. And also, they’re not doing anything crazy in public.”
“Yeah, but Lina’s my sister. I don’t need to see your brother kissing her like his life depends on it.”
Philip finally looked up, his gaze crawling over James, and he frowned, tilting his head.
“Did you—with Sophie—out here?“ he asked.
James started to deny it, but seeing as the belt and tie she used to bind him were flung on the ground five feet away, the answer was pretty obvious.
“Damn, she was over here early, then.” Philip looked at the counter. “Breakfast date?”
“No dates, remember?” James’s jaw clenched. “But yeah. Something like that.”
“Nice, ni— what do you mean ‘something like that’?”
He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the question. “She stayed overnight.”
Philip’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? You just said you two aren’t doing all that.”
“No, I said no dates.”
“Tomato-Tomahto.” He went to sit at the kitchen island.
James stopped him. “I wouldn’t do that.”
Philip narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t.”
“I said we had a breakfast date.” James smirked. “What do you think we ate?”
“Stop while you’re ahead, please.” Philip sighed, wiping a hand over his face. “I’d be clapping for you, but for Christ’s sake, your room is right there. You couldn’t have taken the few extra steps?”
“Well, something was clapping, if you catch my drift.” James held up his hand for a high-five.
Philip let out a long-suffering sigh and returned the high-five.
“Jesus, how do I unhear the last few minutes? Ay, never mind. I’m assuming the couch, too?
You have to get a new one now because I’m not sitting on that.
” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “Joder, please, please tell me nowhere else.”
James got up and walked down the hall, chuckling. “Might want to disinfect
the counter before couch shopping.”
“The—where on the counter?!”
Heading into his room, he shut the door, leaning against the cool wood.
On top of not being able to go where he wanted with Sophie, they had that party on Friday, where he had to be on his best behavior. The thought of both of them there in close proximity …
He pulled out his phone and started a text thread with Marilyn, his fingers shaking as they poised over the keyboard.
Hi. When do you want me to meet you Friday?
She responded a moment later.
Hi James. We’re taking a car there, and can get you on the way. It’s better if we show up together, anyway. We can discuss further tomorrow afternoon.
Shit.
Getting lightheaded, he sat on the edge of his bed. Heat soared through him, and his pulse pounded in his ears. His grip hardened on the edges of his phone.
A car, a car.
Which meant sitting in close quarters with Sophie on the way to a party where he had to keep his goddamn hands off her.
Also, what did Marilyn mean by tomorrow afternoon?
Thumbing over to his email, he noted the new message from Jackie with his forwarded schedule for the week in his inbox.
He had a few meetings with clients scattered throughout, including the Fukada walkthrough on Friday.
He gritted his teeth. Great, just what he needed: a walkthrough right before he left to mingle and pretend not to stare at Sophie.
Scanning the list more closely, Covey’s name jumped out at him not once, but a total of three times.
Jackie had scheduled meetings for him with Marilyn on three separate days.
He had to see Sophie on three separate days in the same room as her boss. Tossing his phone on his bed, he covered his eyes, a loud groan reverberating out of his mouth.
God, this was a nightmare.
He was walking a tightrope, trying desperately to reach her on the other side, and not noticing that the rope started to fray in the middle.
Giving in to his feelings wouldn’t do him any good, not when admitting them would bring everything crashing down faster.
A knock curled off his door, and Philip called through the wood, “You’re not making me do this alone, cabrón. This is your fault! So put on some clothes and go on the Ikea website or something.”
James sighed, grabbing a T-shirt and shorts from his closet.
What was he even going to wear on Friday? He wanted to make a good impression, of course, not just on potential clients, but on Sophie, too.
Another knock sounded just as he donned a sweatshirt.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, Pip!” he called.
Luc’s voice cut across the space. “Damn, mec. You have this whole penthouse, and you chose the couch?”
James sighed and hopped into his shorts. Yanking open his door, he brushed past his friend. Fuck, of course Pip would tell Luc about it. Nothing was sacred between them.
James flinched as Philip tossed a bottle of disinfectant spray at him.
“Take care of the counter,” his friend ordered.
Desperate to turn the spotlight on something other than him, James asked, “So how’d it go with Chloe, Luc?”
The two of them had gone out again on Saturday night, and his friend had been quiet about it since. It had been less than twenty-four hours, but it was extremely uncharacteristic of him.
“Oh, yeah,” Philip chimed. He looked up from where he sat on the floor, laptop in front of him. “Spill it, cabrón.”
Luc rubbed the back of his neck, melting into a lopsided grin. “It went well.”
James arched a brow, finishing wiping the counter, and dumping the paper towels in the trash. “Why’d you wait to tell us?”
He’d expected a conference phone call the minute Luc got home.
“Because things are getting more serious, and Chloe asked me to keep it between us,” Luc continued.
“Already doing what she wants?” Philip quipped.
Luc flipped him off. “Yeah, yeah, like we don’t know you’ve crawled for Mariana. Literally.”
“And I’d do it again.” Philip shrugged. “The other night, she did this thing with her mouth, and ay Dios—”
“And you’re done talking.” James hopped onto a barstool. “Also, I don’t think Chloe meant us. I’m pretty sure her friends know.”
“Prudence est mère de s?reté,” Luc muttered. “Anyway, get over here. I hear there’s some nice couches at that furniture store in DUMBO.”
James swore the stakes had never been higher.
Sitting across from Marilyn in her office while she leafed through some papers, he clenched his jaw and crossed his arms tightly across his chest.
Sophie hovered behind her like an angel on her shoulder, one he wished to touch, but lay just out of reach.
At least their interactions at Joseph’s only lasted ten minutes or less, and he could control that. But here … it was impossible to ignore her presence.
Was this a preview of what Friday would be like? Sneaking glances at her like he was some pathetic teenager in love? Tension so thick you could drown?
Sophie blatantly ignored him, staring at a painting on the wall. Then her attention slid to him.
He flashed her a small smirk.
Her eyes narrowed, and she gave a near imperceptible shake of her head.
Blowing a breath through his lips, he clenched the arms of his chair, bouncing his leg.
Centuries ticked by in seconds.
In his peripheral vision, Marilyn set down the papers and laced her fingers together.
“The articles we’ve been putting out for the past few weeks are getting good responses,” she said.
“Plus, the emails we’ve been sending to past Lotus clients highlighting the positives of working with you are gaining you good attention.
But neither of those things is enough. That’s why the gala on Friday is so important. ”
She pushed back from her desk. “I’ll let Sophie finish explaining to you while I run to the bathroom. Excuse me.”
Walking out, she closed the door behind her, the click resounding in finality.
“So,” he said into the silence. “The gala?”
Sophie leaned back against the wall. “Um. Right. Like Marilyn said, it’s not enough to tell potential clients that you can be trusted.
We need them actually to see you do something philanthropic.
Not only will it boost your image, but hopefully bounce you back from the Delacroix mess.
” She nodded, crossing her arms. “Likewise, clients seeing you in a black-tie ensemble will give them an even more positive perception.”
Oh. Of course.
In the six years since he started his own business, and in all the years he attended important parties, he learned that image was everything.
He cocked his head. “Just clients?”
They trod into dangerous territory, but dammit, he didn’t care one bit.
“No,” Sophie replied after a moment. She pushed off the wall and stopped right in front of his knees.
Placing the folder she held on the edge of the desk, she leaned down until her face was level with his.
Her monochromatic-tipped fingers curled around the arms of his seat, and one of her hands slinked down his blazer, gripping the lapel.
“A black-tie ensemble will also make a positive perception on me.”
Against his better judgment, he grabbed her wrist as she backed away, fettering her. One of his hands moved to grip her chin between his fingers. “How positive?”
Her eyes darted to the door, but she smiled. “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
The door opened, and Sophie backed away, knocking the file off the desk in her haste.
“Sorry about that.” Marilyn took a seat again. “Did Sophie explain?”
He cleared his throat, gaze running over Sophie as he shifted in his seat. “Perfectly.”