Overcome with exhaustion, I crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep.
My office was quiet as I padded through the hallways at seven-thirty on Monday morning. I might’ve told Joz in my email that my business hours were eight thru five-thirty on weekdays, but that wasn’t true. I worked seven days a week and didn’t mind at all. Besides, what else did I have to do? Not Joz, obviously.
I fired up my computer and buried myself in work. I lost track of time, and when I looked up, Penn was standing there with two coffees in one hand and a bag of what I hoped were pastries in the other.
“You move like a serial killer.”
He grinned and dropped the bag on my desk. “Got your favorite. Apple Danish.”
“You know the way to my heart.”
Sinking into the chair opposite my desk, Penn peeled the lid from his coffee, blew across the top, and took a sip.
“So, Asher tells me you’ve got the hots for your latest signing.”
“Had. Had the hots. And Asher has a big mouth.” Although I hadn’t told him it was a secret, and he and Penn were brothers who honestly gossiped more than any woman I knew.
“Wow, you move on fast.”
I brought up my hand. “Don’t. It’s a touchy subject.”
“Ooh, now I really want to know.” He propped his elbows on my desk and rested his chin on his folded hands. “Gimme the skinny.”
See what I mean? A true gossipmonger. Couldn’t say I appreciated being front and center of the gossip train, though.
“Not much to tell. He chased me relentlessly, made it clear what he wanted. Waited for me to cave. Kissed me, then bailed, citing a bullshit line of ‘let’s keep it professional.’” I sighed and took a huge bite from the Danish.
“Fuck off.”
“Truth,” I said, mouth full of pastry.
“What a jerk.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at the digital clock in the top right-hand corner of my computer. Nine oh three. My stomach swooped. He’d have my email by now. “But you know me. Never one to trounce over someone’s wishes, so I sent him an email.”
“Of course you did.” He leaned even farther forward. “Do I want to see it?”
Heat filled my cheeks. “No.”
“Oh, see, now I definitely want to see it.”
Knowing Penn wouldn’t relent until I’d given him what he wanted, I opened the mail from my sent items and turned my screen to make it easier for him to read. He scanned it in silence. I watched his face, waiting for the inevitable wince.
He didn’t disappoint. “Wow,” he muttered.
“It’s clear, it outlines expectations, and it’s in line with what he said he wanted.”
“It’s brutal.”
“Professional,” I corrected.
“Sure, if you define ‘professional’ as emotionally nuking someone at nine o’clock on a Monday morning.” His eyes met mine. “You know why you’re mad, right?”
I stared at him, jaw tight. “It is two in the afternoon in London, not nine in the morning. And I’m not mad.” I was on Saturday night, but I’d had time to cool off. Now I was indifferent.
“Yes, you are. You’re pissed that he kissed you, made you feel something, then yanked away the good loving like it meant nothing. And now you’re trying to rewrite the narrative to show you’re in control.”
My chest tightened. Penn had always been able to see through me easier than tracing paper. “He made a decision. I respected it. With bullet points.”
