“What can I do for you, Mr. Raynor?” I hated how formal and stiff I sounded, but his incessant flirting and constant innuendosmeant I felt the need to keep re-drawing the line in the sand. Falling into bed with my new signing was a one-way ticket to disaster, and my business was far more important than my non-existent sex life.
“Stop calling me Mr. Raynor, for one. You sound like my year eleven teacher scolding me for writing lyrics in class when I should’ve been doing simultaneous equations or some other completely useless shit taught in schools.”
“She must’ve been a saint. And equations are important for certain careers.”
“She was, and not mine.”
I made a frustrated sound. “Are you always this annoying?”
Another of his throaty chuckles that made my clit tingle sounded in my ear. “Yes.”
“Lucky me,” I muttered.
“What are you doing right now?” he queried, ignoring my sarcastic retort.
“Marking up your press release so my team can make the changes necessary before Monday.”
“Well, put it down, because I have a far better offer.”
“Which is?”
“I’ve been invited to the opening of a club tonight. I wasn’t going to bother, but I thought you might want to come and keep me company.”
“Loud music, overpriced drinks, and sweaty bodies crowding the dance floor. Sounds like something that’s easy to say no to.”
“Aww, come on, Aspen. All work and no play makes for a dull life.”
“I’m perfectly happy with my life. Plus, I have to get on a flight back to New York in the morning. Myfourthin a week. A late night is not in the cards.”
“If I promise to have you home before midnight, will you come?”
“No.”
“Great. I’ll see you in the lobby in twenty minutes.”
He hung up.He fucking hung up on me.Argh. I tossed my phone on the couch. He was such an annoying asshole. Although, if I truly thought that, why was I smiling?
Changing out of my sweats, I put on a dress and heels, and, in petty bitch style, I purposely left it thirty minutes before I rode the elevator down to the lobby. After scanning around for a few seconds, I spotted him in his incognito attire: dark glasses, baseball cap worn low, his long hair tied back, chin lowered to avoid eye contact with anyone. For such a famous man, he’d mastered the art of being invisible in public places.
He looked up as I approached, greeting me with a huge smile and what seemed to be genuine pleasure at seeing me.
“For a second, I thought you weren’t going to show.”
“Considering I said no, that wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.”
“But you’re here. Why?”
I shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Be honest, Aspen. You enjoy my company.”
“If it’s the last thing I do, I will knock that arrogance right out of you.”
“If we replace ‘knock’ with ‘spank’, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He hit me with another one of his dazzling grins, and I’d wager his eyes were twinkling behind his sunglasses.
I pinched my thumb and forefinger together. “I am this close to returning to my suite.”
He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and God help me, I stared.
