I had a cheese stick hanging out of my mouth. “Hold on, I’m pulling it up.” I leaned over the counter and opened the message, looking at the picture she’d sent me. The cheese stick dropped to the floor as I gasped.
“Oh, shit.” Jules breathed. “I knew she hadn’t seen it—do you want us to come over?”
A lump formed in my throat, and I couldn’t find the words to respond.
I’d given Carter the space he’d asked for and had waited several weeks before driving back to the city. Big mistake.
“Didn’t know those short little legs could go so fast.” Vaughnmuttered under his breath when I shoved through the Vandenbergh building doors faster than he could open them for me.
“Try to keep up, would you?” I stomped through the massive lobby towards the elevators.
“I would not want to be him.” He muttered, following closely behind.
“No, you would not.” I smashed the elevator buttons, grinding my teeth as the doors slid shut. Up, up, up we rode, the elevator music comically perky despite the fact that I was seeingred.
Vaughn cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You think you’re going to be a while?” He asked warily.
I quirked a brow sassily. “Why? Do you have somewhere you need to be?”
He put his hands up in surrender. “I was just going to check in with the boss upstairs.”
“Sure.” I shrugged dramatically. “And why don’t you get yourself a little ice cream cone while you’re at it.” I didn’t know if I’d ever been so brazen, but Vaughn was a dick. He could take it.
“Just call me when you’re done.” He sighed as I marched off the elevator.
I banged through the ten-foot wooden doors into Cade’s office. “Sup, small fry?” Cade rumbled from behind his desk as I stormed in. “Damn, girl.” He hooked a thumb at me. “Check out the drip on this one.” I’d gone shopping, gotten a blowout, bought a new dress. I looked incredible because I was out for fucking blood.
“Get out.” I screeched at Cade, kicking him out of his own office.
“I can see you two need a minute.” Cade dipped his head and wisely pushed out of his chair, heading for the door.
“Sorry, Cade.” Carter sighed, shoulders sagging.
“Feel free to Picasso it up in here, and paint me a pretty picture with all the blood.” Cade whirled, smirking at me as he grabbed a decanter of amber liquid, and then he had the idioticaudacity to proposition me, while steam was practically blowing out of my ears. “And when you’re done with this idiot, I’d be more than happy to sponsor your next shopping spree.” He winked. “I could show you a real good time in the dressing rooms too. You, me, and some three-sixty mirrors?—”
“In your dreams, Blackthorn.” I snapped at the same moment Carter barked, “Get out!”
Cade just shrugged as he lingered in the doorway with a smirk. “All I’m saying is—if someone is going to have hate sex on my desk, I think it should be me.” Carter was halfway to the door when Cade finally shut it, grinning like the shit-stirrer he was.
I stopped Carter in his tracks, redirecting my own vitriol. “Carter Ambrose Kensington, what do you have to say for yourself? Because I don’t think you have any right to be pissed at Cade. Not after what I saw in the tabloids this morning.” Carter quickly turned, heading towards the tall windows that overlooked the city in a futile attempt to escape my wrath. “Don’t you dare walk away from me.” I snapped. Cade’s office was big, but not that big.
Carter wassupposedto be recovering, but I guess he was busy. Busy working with Cade, doing God knows what, and apparently—busykissing other people. Tall, beautiful blonde people with impossibly perky tits, becauseblondes had always been his type. In fact, I didn’t know if I’d ever seen him with a brunette growing up. Never. I wondered if I should have plopped down in Cade’s lap and laid a big, wet, sloppy one on him to kick this whole thing off. See how Carter liked that.
“What are you doing here?” Carter asked, eyes flashing with pain, but I didn’t feel a damned bit sorry for him.
“I’m checking on you, like I do every day.” Even as I yelled, I hated how badly I wanted him to wrap me up in his arms and tell me everything was going to be okay. How badly I wanted him to tell me it was all just for show. A bit. A game. Not fucking real. I of all people, knew how easily the media could use a photo to paint a story that wasn’t even remotely true. I would probably have been named Briar Rose’s sluttiest socialite if Ihadn’t bought out the images straight from the photographers,or worse.
So it was entirely possible the blonde in the photo had literally thrown herself at him, because womenactuallydid that when it came to Carter.
Please, please, please let it be a PR stunt.
“Yeah, well, you’re not my girlfriend anymore, so don’t.” Carter bit out sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets.
I smarted back, pretending to be shocked. “Wow, I haven’t heard that ten times in the last month.”
“Maybe you should start listening.”
“You know how I know you still care?”
