That seemed to bring him to his senses. “We don’t need to go there. I’m not trying to be inappropriate. Put all of this aside. Also, let me be clear, I’m not going to oust you from this project because of anything you say or do or don’t say or don’t do. I don’t want you to feel like there’s a power dynamic at play here. I’m not your boss. I’m the guy on the rooftop. You’re the hot girl with the mesmerizing eyes, and I just want to spend time with you.” His expression was sincere when he added, “Preferably sober and fucking.”
Why, why, why did he have to be so irresistible?
And how could he possibly believe there was no power dynamic between us?
I ran my hand over my face in frustration. “You can’t do that, you realize. You can’t just ‘put all of this aside.’ Our situation doesn’t go away just because you pretend it doesn’t exist. Not for me. You’re still you. You still hold the power. You get that, right?”
“Yes, I get that I’m a Sebastian and that there are advantages associated with that.” His tone was also frustrated. Then it softened into something more vulnerable but equally intense. “But what good is power if it doesn’t get you what you want?”
Smooth. So fucking smooth.
Smooth enough to overcome the rough front I was trying to put on. He could have me. I was weak. I was willing.
But before I could close the distance and throw myself in his arms like I so very much wanted to, he backed away, his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. I crossed the line. I apologize. You’re here to do a job. I’ll let you do it without harassment. I’ll have my assistant or Julie give you a call with that meeting time on Monday. Thank you for coming by, Ms. Turani. I’m sure you can find your way out. You’ve proven yourself good at that.”
He left me gaping and alone and incredibly disappointed that I didn’t feel more relieved.
Eight
When Teyana came over later that afternoon, she found me lying on the floor in Kendra’s closet. “It went that bad?”
I moved my arm from where it had been draped over my eye to look at her. “It didn’t go well.”
She nodded thoughtfully, likely trying to decide how much of my reaction to the meeting at SIC was real and how much was dramatics. “This position is a familiar one for me. I don’t usually do it in the closet though.”
“You’ve never had a closet big enough.”
“Good point. But was there a reason you chose the closet?”
I grimaced as I remembered how I’d arrived here. “I came in to choose something to wear for my next meeting. Then I started thinking about all the money I’m going to need to pay the dry-cleaning bill for all the outfits I’ve been borrowing, and I suddenly needed to lie down.”
Her eyes brightened at the hint of a “next meeting,” but like a good friend, she zoned in on the problem at hand. “Don’t dry-clean. Hang them back up, and don’t say a word.”
“I can’t be in a room with those people and not be nervous. And I sweat.”
“You’re saving on commute money, and we’ll cook instead of ordering out.”
“Fine,” I sighed. This was where I was being dramatic. I lived paycheck to paycheck, but I had non-essentials in my budget. “You’re right.”
“Mmhmm.” She gave me a superior smirk as she dropped her overnight bag and leaned her cane against the shelf.
“How are you feeling today?” I asked belatedly. It should have been my first question. A trip into the city was always exhausting for her, but she’d insisted on coming.
“Feeling pretty great, actually.”
“That makes me happy.”
She lived for these days, when her energy matched her ambition, and she got to “live” instead of just exist. We both knew she’d feel it tomorrow. It was a good thing she was spending the weekend with me instead of going back to Jersey City tonight.
“Hang on,” she said, squatting beside me. “Let me get down there with you, and you can tell me all about it.”
I waited until she was prone and comfortable to begin. Then I spent the next half hour detailing the entire morning, starting with finding Eden at the welcome desk and ending with Scott Sebastian leaving me wound up in the meeting room.
“I think after all that, I’d be lying on the floor in the closet too,” she said when I’d finished.
“You are lying on the floor in the closet too,” I pointed out.
My smile faded fast, though. Retelling the events had returned my focus to the mess I was in and the anxiety that sat like a medicine ball in my stomach. I let out a groan. “What am I going to do, Tey?”
She turned toward me, bringing her knees into her chest and propping her head up on her hand. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, I don’t want to get fired, but obviously that’s on the horizon.” In some ways, accepting that made my decisions easier. There was no reason to bail if I was going to face Kendra’s wrath no matter what. “I guess what I want is to make sure SIC picks the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation as their charity. That’s the only good that can come out of this.”
“That’s a bunch of baloney. There are other fantastic charities in your portfolio. Anything they pick will be for the good.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “I get what you’re doing, Teyana Lewis, managing my expectations and all. But I want it to be the DRF. I’m going to sell them the DRF.” Saying it that emphatically felt like making a promise. It was a promise I would work my ass off to keep.
“I hope you aren’t just doing that for me.” She blinked, obviously touched.
“Well. A little. But also for me. If I can sell the DRF, then maybe I can negotiate a better salary than the one Sarah previously offered. And I need to have a reason for them to hire me in case the offer has expired or something.”
“Ooh. Good call.”
A fraction of my anxiety lifted. I was sure I’d thought through the entire situation, inside and out, but I was grateful for the validation.
“I haven’t reached out to Sarah about proposing this yet either. Don’t want to get her hopes up. I’ll call her when SIC invites her for the consultation meeting.”
“Then you’ve decided what you’re doing. You got this. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” When Teyana believed in me, it was so much easier to believe in myself.
Still, I wasn’t done freaking out. And with her here and on my side, I could now fully let myself worry. I sat up and twisted so I was facing her, my back against the shelves full of Kendra’s extensive assortment of purses. “But what if they don’t choose the DRF?”
“Then you sell them something else, and Sarah will still hire you. She’s said before she knows you’re going to accept eventually. She’s just waiting for you to know it too.”
Yes, I’d have a job somewhere. I supposed I wasn’t concerned about that. “What if Kendra shows up before the deal is done?”
She shrugged. “Then she finishes it up. She can’t walk away once it’s started.”
Humiliating, but survivable. “What if Scott calls Kendra and finds out I’m a sham before this really gets anywhere?”
Tey sat up for this one. “Number A,” she said, pointing a single finger. “She’s never going to answer her phone.” She put up a second finger. “Number B, same results as if she showed up. You go work for the DRF. This is a no-lose situation, baby.”
“But he could hate me,” I whispered.
“Scott? Yeah, I suppose there’s that.” Even Tey couldn’t spin that into a comforting lie.
I shook my head in self-irritation, the shelf digging into my neck as I did. It was ridiculous that I cared about what Scott Sebastian thought of me, but I did. More than I wanted to admit.
A beat passed before Tey spoke again. “Do you think he fucked Kendra?”
“Oh my God, I’m trying not to go there!” It was the thought I’d somehow managed to push off until now. Once invited, the image rushed into my head, graphic and disturbing.
“But you’re looking at the w
orst possibilities, right? Which means you need to go there. It’s irresponsible not to. So what if he did?”
I scowled at her, convinced the question was more about needling out my feelings than it was about responsibility. “Then I’d be jealous,” I admitted. I was jealous just thinking about the possibility. It was stupid because I hadn’t felt that way as much about Eden, who I knew had fucked around with Scott. Probably because of Kendra. Because I knew her. Because she always got what she wanted and never appreciated it.
God, what was wrong with me? The guy wasn’t even mine.
“I get it,” Tey said, as if she could read my thoughts. “Besides the icky feelings, what’s the worst thing that it would mean in terms of the job?”
Maybe I’d been wrong about her motives. Now that I thought about it, there was an advantage to asking this question. “It probably helps the situation, honestly. Typical Kendra, she’ll never talk to him again. I kind of think that’s his M.O. as well.”
“He does seem like the heartbreaker type.”
“You only know him from what I’ve told you.”
“You’ve painted a very clear picture.”
I attempted a laugh. It was hard to think there was a silver lining to the very real possibility that my boss had slept with the hottest man I’d ever met. A hot man who’d also shown interest in me. “He did hit on me again after our night together.”
She understood my concern. “But nothing actually happened. You’re different. You’re still the unknown.”
That was something else I hadn’t let myself think about—the sex that we didn’t have. On the one hand, I was glad not to have missed something that was surely mind-blowing. It also made it easier to keep this strictly business. On the other hand, it made me feel like I didn’t actually own a thing that I’d thought I’d owned. A thing that Kendra might have owned. Now I wanted to own it more than I did when I’d supposedly owned it.
“Is it a good thing or a bad thing that I didn’t sleep with him?” I asked, wanting to figure out how to feel about this bit of information.
“It’s neither,” Tey said matter-of-factly. “It’s just a thing. It’s why he won’t try to call Kendra, and why he will try to call you.” She paused before asking the question we both knew she needed to ask next. “What will you do when he tries to bed you again?”
Not if. When. She was that certain it would happen.
Why did I feel such an overwhelming adrenaline rush at the thought of it? “I don’t know the answer to that one, Tey.” I knew what I should do. But I also knew myself, knew just how weak I was around men like Scott Sebastian.
Tey looked at me with wide-eyed shock. “You can’t sleep with him, Tess! You absolutely cannot, no matter how much he makes your snatch tingle. That is not how you want this to go down.”
She let the lecture sink in, and when she spoke again it was less stern. “Look, you go in there, you pitch this deal, sign the contracts, seal up a job at the DRF. Then you can bang his brains out.”
He’d likely find out I was a fraud before then, which completely erased any possibility of the fantasy becoming reality.
Ignoring that fact, though, I nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a real good plan.”
“Are you ready for this?” Brett asked quietly as the team members arrived at the SIC conference room.
My heart pounded furiously as I considered my answer. Sure, I was ready for this. My presentation was solid. The PowerPoint was hooked up and ready to go. My handouts were already placed around the table. I had both a water bottle and a cup of coffee. On top of that, I looked pretty damn good in the Oscar de la Renta printed blouse and pants I’d stolen from Kendra’s wardrobe.
But was I ready for this? Not fucking ready at all.
“My hands are so clammy, I’m afraid to shake anyone’s hands,” I said, which told him all he needed to know.
“Stay back here as they come in. I’ll intro you when they’re all seated, and there will be no need for shaking.” But he knew what I was really saying. “You’re going to be amazing, Tess. You got this.”
“Thank you.” I knew he meant well, but his words didn’t do anything to calm my nerves. His faith in me was purely speculation since he hadn’t actually seen my presentation, and considering this was not only the first time I’d be pitching to this group, but also the first time I was pitching ever, I really could have used a pep talk that was based on firsthand knowledge.
I looked at the people sitting around the room, immersed in workplace banter. Two women, three men, and a spot for Brett. The chair at the opposite end of the table remained empty. I swallowed when I thought about the man who’d soon be sitting there.
“Silvia, Paris, Matthew M., Matthew T.—he’s the one we call Matt. Anthony’s the one with the sparkling water.” Brett pointed them all out discreetly. “It’s an easy crowd. Except for Scott, but you’ve already met him.”
There was a hint of a question in the last statement, an invitation for me to explain exactly how well I knew Scott. Even if I wanted to share that with Brett, it was something I was trying very hard not to think about at the moment.
Besides, I was too hung up on his implication. “Scott’s difficult?”
I could tell he was torn between honesty and not wanting to intimidate me more. “Well, yeah. I mean, the Greater Sebastians have a reputation for a reason. At least he’s not one of Reynard’s sons. That stem of the family is brutal.”
Nothing he said was comforting.
My expression must have exposed my terror. He picked up my cell from the table where he’d placed it so I could keep tabs on the time. “Here, unlock your phone,” he said, as he’d said that first night we met. When I handed it back to him, he typed in a new contact then sent a message to the new number. “That’s me. You can slip in a text if you need me. I’ll ping you if you run off track, which you won’t. Does that help?”
It did. Except the room had abruptly gone quiet, and when I looked up, Scott was striding to his seat at the head of the table. He was devastating in his dark gray suit, his expression severe, and if I wasn’t imagining it, he was glaring at me and Brett.
Yeah, I didn’t feel better at all.
That wasn’t exactly true. My skin buzzed, my nipples perked. My blood hummed. My heart felt like it might pound its way out of my chest, but other than that, my body seemed to really like it when Scott Sebastian was near.
Stupid body.
I took my phone back from Brett, who scurried to attention like a student tardy for class. I glanced around the room and found everyone’s eyes on Scott, so I placed mine there too, even though doing so made my chest feel tight. They would have ended up there on their own eventually anyway. He was magnetic. He drew my gaze whether I wanted to give it to him or not.
I hated how much I wanted him to give me his gaze in return.
But other than the scowl he’d delivered as he walked in, he didn’t pay me any notice at all.
“Today’s agenda has been amended,” he said to the team. “We’re still discussing possible sponsorship opportunities, of course. Conscience Connect has decided to help us with the process. I’ll turn it over to Brett to introduce the liaison.” He looked at his watch. “Let’s stay on task, please. I have somewhere to be at four.”
I tried not to be disappointed about his lack of regard. Tried not to care that I only had one hour of his precious time. Tried hardest not to think about how sexy he made the simple act of glancing at the time.
It was easy enough to push all those distractions away when Brett began his introduction and Scott finally did swing his attention toward me, and I saw nothing but cold indifference.
So much for worrying about our chemistry. The man was obviously over me. I’d known this was who he was from minute one, and still it was a wound to my pride. I had a sudden sympathy for Eden and the way he’d dismissed her that night on the roof. What was it about girls like us who recognized the player and still insisted on being played?
At least it made this less complicated. All the more incentive to get this deal done as fast as I could.
And I would do it like a pro, with my head held high, and my presentation on point.
As soon as Brett finished explaining how Conscience Connect worked and made my introduction, I jumped into my pitch. I had eight charities to introduce. I planned on devoting no more than five minutes to each of the first seven which would leave more than twenty minutes to push the DRF and to answer any questions. I had this in the bag. I’d practiced and timed it out several times to be sure.
Unfortunately, when I’d practiced, I hadn’t accounted for all the interruptions. Detailed questions that were irrelevant at this early point, such as demographic breakdowns of a charity’s disbursements and how previous sponsors had gone about promoting the organization.
I would have explained that those questions were best saved for when we’d narrowed down the choices or at least asked that they be held until the end to be answered if it hadn’t been Scott who was asking.
Every time.
Every single goddamn interruption came from Scott.
I didn’t have to text Brett to know that it wasn’t a good idea to argue with the man in charge. So there was nothing I could do about it but let him steer us off course. It was exasperating how it happened. How I’d just start to get my stride when he’d cut in with a question. I’d fumble to come up with the answer. Quickly he’d shoot back something that concerned him about whatever I’d said. Then it would open the door for the team to jump in, and Scott would sit back and smile smugly while everything spiraled out of control.
“They had that awful float in the Macy’s parade last year,” Matt would say. “Do you think they’d let us have some input on that?”