She hadn’t sat in on a meeting like this since she last had Amanda’s position. Etta said that people often commented on it.“Is that the same girl from last time? I thought she had black hair.”Or,“How’s it working out with your assistant now girlfriend? You replacing her already?”Since the engagement, however, those comments stopped. Suddenly, Jamie was no longer the fun long-time lay on the side. Now she was a woman people had to pretend to respect around Etta. Whether they thought she was a gold-digging trophy wife or not.
Jamie couldn’t help but wonder what David Hamilton thought of herif anything. Did he think she was hot, but Etta could do better for a wife?“Come on, Coleman, she’s hot for her 20s, but that’s not going to be a lasting beauty. Now a supermodel, or a well-bred girl who knows how to take care of herself? Surely you could bag one.”Bagging. That’s what men said about women. They were bagged, like animals hunted in the forest.
Or maybe he thought she was intriguing. He might, since he kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
Jamie didn’t even do anything! She merely sat there, hands in her lap and legs slapped together. Back straight. Hair down. If she sat still enough, people might think she was a doll. Really, aside from her appearance, there was no reason to regard her at all.A doll in the background. Isn’t that what Etta wanted?To know that behind all her actions, she had a woman waiting for her?
So why was David Hamilton always glancing at her in between replying to Etta’s comments?
And why was Amanda always following his gaze, giving Jamie quizzical looks?
They couldn’t possibly be admiring her… admiring what Etta had. Her possession.
At the end of this relatively short meeting, David Hamilton rose, shook Etta’s hand, nodded to Amanda, and turned to take his leave. Yet he stopped halfway across the room, gazing at Jamie in such a nervous way that he practically began to sweat on his brow.
It wasn’t intimidation. It waswhat the fuck do I do?If Jamie were acting natural, he would probably nod to her on his way out, but Jamie was not acting natural. She was acting like a posed doll, her mannerisms completely empty and her face devoid of expression.
No wonder this man struggled to think of the best course of action. It would be rude to leave the room without acknowledging Jamie, especially since she was Etta Coleman’s fiancée – and there was no way Mr.Hamilton could not know that. But a simple nod wouldn’t do when Jamie wasn’t acting herself. Or very human, for that matter. What should he do? Go over and say hello? In front of Etta? Her fiancée?
“Good… day to you, Miss.” He finally hurried out of the office. Amanda put her tablet down and asked Etta if she needed anything else.You better say no. Jamie wanted to be alone with her woman for at least a minute.
“That’s all, Ms. Mayfield. Organize the notes and bring me a copy later. Thank you.”
She showed herself out, gazing out of the corner of her eye the entire time.Good day to you as well. When the door closed, Etta pushed back from her desk and came to the couch.
“Look at you. A perfect, pretty picture right here in my office.” Etta perched beside Jamie on the edge of the couch, one hand going over her fiancée’s knee. “Who could blame me for wanting to show you off to everyone who comes through?”
I knew it.Jamie was a trophy right now. Etta Coleman’s gorgeous, behaving trophy. Deep inside, it unnerved her for Etta to openly admit this was how she saw her right now, but Jamie couldn’t cry too hard about it. When they were in a scene – even one that transcended the public sphere like this one – she wanted her to laud her beauty and how well she…
How well she…
Could submit.
“I hope that wasn’t too uncomfortable for you,” Etta continued. “It wasn’t, was it?”
Her hand squeezed Jamie’s knee. She looked at it, then Etta’s face. She shook her head.
“Good. I’ve got many plans for us today. Many things I want to do with you. New things. Our favorite things. Things you’ve rarely dreamed of. I hope you’re looking forward to it.”
Remember how I said I didn’t need to wear any blush because I wouldmake plenty of my own?Happening now, right on her cheeks. Jamie had no idea what Etta could possibly have in store for her, but she didn’t doubt it would be… interesting. Probably wild. That was her usual speed, anyway.
“Would you like a preview now?” Etta eased Jamie back against the couch, lightly kissing her blushing cheek as a hand went to her breast. “You have been so patiently waiting.”
There was barely any time to enjoy the touch of her fiancée’s hand before Natasha’s voice popped on the intercom. “Ms. Coleman, your 2:15 is here. Should I send them in?”
Etta pulled away from Jamie.Damnit. She was getting into that. “Of course they would be early,” Etta muttered. “Yes, go ahead and send them in,” she said, once she was back at her desk with her thumb on the intercom.
Jamie didn’t want to say anything – not that she could – but it looked like Etta was already getting hot and bothered beneath her clothes.
Her next meeting was a couple: two women who had flown in from Los Angeles. That meant they were excited about her, and as Jamie quickly learned in the five seconds she observed, they were mostly excited about the publishing arm Adele brought with her when the companies merged. Ad-Thom Publishing was now Thompson & Coleman Publishing, however, which meant Etta was able to conduct meetings on Adele’s behalf regarding the financial and management end of the publisher.
The Carters were interested in merging their small press with Thompson & Coleman Publishing. They focused on photography books, with a huge list of photographers and authors that had exclusive contracts with them. Not just Californian photographers, either. America, Asia, Europe, Africa… if it was a travel destination, the Carters either already had a book about it or were planning one. They were hoping that a merger with Thompson & Coleman could result in significant funding necessary for an expedition to Antarctica.
Jamie learned that in one minute. The Carterstalked. A lot.
“Oh, who’s this?” asked a voluptuous woman with a spray tan and bleach blond hair. Cay Carter approached Jamie as if she were the most unusual specimen she had yet to come across in New England. “This can’t be your assistant, could it?”
Normally, Etta didn’t joke about such things in front of casual business associates, but the Carters must be a special case. “She used to be my assistant, yes. Now she’s my fiancée.”
