“I don’t wish to share it with him. He doesn’t deserve to know,” I reply, looking him in the eye.
“Anna, I think—” he begins, but I cut him off.
“I have to call my team,” I say quickly, changing the topic. I don’t want him to convince me to tell Landon. Right or wrong, that secret stays with me.
He searches my face and nods, then steps back with the grin back on his face. “Go get him, killer.”
I nod and smile back at him as he disappears down the hallway, humming an obnoxiously cheerful tune. I wait for his door to close, then set my mug on the counter before pulling my phone from my back pocket and dialing my assistant.
“Marcy?” I say as soon as she picks up.
“Anna! Everything’s ready. We triple-checked the mics, the lighting setup’s been done since yesterday, and we’ll be at his place thirty minutes early.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you there,” I reply before hanging up.
My hands go to my stomach, and I can feel the knots tighten there. I start repeating the mantra in my head like a broken record.I’m going to see him. I’m going to prove that I’m over him. I can handle this.
Breathing in and out, I try to steady myself. God, I just need to get this interview over with and end this torment. With that thought in mind, I head to my room to change, desperate to get through this as quickly as I can.
Chapter 4
Landon
My leg won’t stop bouncing in anticipation. Just knowing I’m moments away from seeing Anna sets a fire in my veins I can’t put out. And I know that when she walks through that door, we won’t simply pick up the shattered pieces we left behind. I’ll have to fight for every inch of her trust again and claw my way back into her guarded heart. But that doesn’t scare me. My mind is set on earning back every drop of her love, every ounce of her faith. This time, I’m not letting her go. I learned the hard way that my life means nothing without her.
My fist flexes. I fucking miss her—miss waking to her face, the way her voice sounded when she whispered she loved me, the way her body burned against mine, the way she shivered when I touched her just right, the way I my cock fit perfectly in her hot pussy. Hell, every bit of it felt damn good—and nothing else has ever come close.
I fucking need those nights again, knowing she was mine in every breath and heartbeat. I’m done denying myself every inch of her. When she steps into this house, she’ll feel me in her bones. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll burn every memory of us deep into her until craving me is all she can think about.
I glance at my Rolex. Thirty minutes to go. A slow grin pulls at my lips. I wish I’d seen her face when she learnt I was the one who demanded this interview. Bet she cursed me straight to hell and back. The thought only makes my grin widen, because even her curses mean I’m in her head, and from there, it’s only a short step to her heart.
The sudden doorbell makes my pulse spikes.She’s here.
Within seconds, I’m on my feet, storming across the room. Hell, I’m about to see her after three long years. I’ve survived on fragments of her—memories that barely kept me alive, but now, with her on the other side of that door, she has me buzzing like a teenager.
I draw in a slow, steady breath and open the door with a confident smile, only for it to freeze on my lips.
My eyes harden as a group of strangers crowd at my doorstep instead ofher. The three men haul camera cases between them, each looking like they’ve spent years in the field—broad shoulders, tanned skin, a faint sheen of sweat on their foreheads. One’s in a faded black T-shirt and cargo pants with far too many pockets, his baseball cap pulled low over his brow. The other has on a gray button-up rolled to the elbows, jeans scuffed at the knees, and a camera strap slung diagonally across his chest.
The third man, the one carrying the light stands, is leaner than the others, with wandering eyes that take in everything around him. He’s dressed in loose chinos and a white polo, his sneakers already dusty from unloading the gear.
And the woman standing with them looks to be in her late twenties: sleek dark hair pulled into a low bun, a fitted navy blouse tucked into a pencil skirt, and high red heels. They all give me the same polite, practiced smiles, but I don’t bother smiling back.
Wrong damn faces. None of them even close to the one I’ve been waiting for.
“Good evening, Mr. Hayes,” the woman greets me, clutching a clipboard to her chest.
I narrow my eyes at her. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Yeah, I know the question sounds stupid. They’re obviously the crew for the interview. But when I arranged this, I made it damn clear I wanted Anna. I should have spelled it out that I fucking didn’t want a swarm of strangers breathing down my neck.
I bet this little safety net made Anna feel less anxious, knowing she wouldn’t have to face me alone. But giving her that comfort isn’t on my list. I can’t break through her walls or get a single word past her with an audience hovering around us. That’s exactly why I cleared my entire staff for the day.
The woman blinks, clearly thrown by my tone, then recovers with a quick clearing of her throat. “Sir, we’re the crew. We’re here to set up for the interview. You confirmed our arrival for today.”
I let out a sharp breath. “I confirmed a one-on-one interview, not a damn circus in my house.”
She straightens, her grip tightening on her clipboard. “With due respect, sir, this is standard procedure. Lighting, audio, camera—everything needs to be in place before the interview begins,” she says, glancing nervously at the men behind her. “We’ll only need about thirty minutes to get everything ready. I promise we won’t get in your way.”
