How I want to stalk every bar in the city and find her, ripping to pieces any man who lays a hand on her.
Like I’m fucking Superman.
“I’m looking for a new assistant.Leigh resigned last week,” Mason shares.
My heckles lift.
Nope.Not happening.
“It’s fine.Emily is doing a good job.Like you said, I just need to keep my dick in my pants.Which I will.”I toss some notes onto the table.“Wednesday night, we’re having a gala.The sheikh is flying over.I need you all there.”
“I’ll clear my schedule,” Drew says.
“You don’t need to ask.”Mason shakes my hand, and I leave my friends to enjoy the rest of the night.
Fucking someone tonight would be a good move.It would relieve the tension between Emily and me, but honestly I can’t even get a twitch out of my cock at the idea of another woman.
That’s what bothers me the most.
I text my driver, and by the time I exit the club, the car is idling at the curb.
“Evening, Mr.Remington.”
“Tony,” I say, sliding into the back seat.
“Heading home?”
I grind my teeth again, wondering where Emily might be.
“Yeah,” I answer after a long pause and lay my jacket across my lap.
I have no claim on her and remind myself that while she’ll be my fiancée from Sunday night, it must remain confidential.How we do this, I’m not sure.
The plan is full of holes.
But I need this funding back on the table.
As the car pulls away and blends into the late-night traffic, I swipe open my phone and pull up Emily’s number.I stare at it the entire way home.
When I walk into my penthouse and flop down on the sofa, my finger hovers over it.
Do not do it, Sebastian.
