He shakes his head. “No comms came in over the weekend. I’m assuming we’ll find out today.”
I blow out a breath, nodding in acceptance. The doors slide open, and Henry follows me to my office. My pulse spikes when we pass Louise in the kitchenette, laughing like a hyena with Chadwick.
“Why isthe CEOin the kitchen? He never comes down to these floors.”
“Not sure,” Henry says.
“Do you think we should be worried?” I ask, glancing at Henry.
“About Louise’s hideous laugh or about her and Theo stealing the account?” he asks, closing my office door behind us.
“Both. She’s such a kiss arse,” I say, dropping my handbag and coat beside my desk.
“It’s not up to Chadwick, and Max doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who buys into schmoozing.” He perches on my desk as I take a seat and log in to my computer.
I have no idea how Max is going to react after running into him on Friday. He essentially propositioned me, and I rejected him.
And now my body is electric with nerves, wondering if I did the right thing. What does Max Browne do when he’s rejected? Is he emotionally mature enough to stay professional inside the office? Will he see my rejection as a challenge, or will he use it as a catalyst to get rid of me?
I hate not knowing.
“I’m nervous, Henry.” I glance at the door to make sure it’s closed and lower my voice. “After what happened on Fridayat Ruby Lounge… I don’t know what Max will be thinking,” I say, allowing myself to be vulnerable with him.
That’s the thing about Henry and me—he knows all the dirty details of my dating life. I called him right after shopping with the girls on Saturday and spilled everything about my Ruby run-in with Max.
What makes our relationship work so well is the unspoken rule: What happens outside these office walls stays there. Yes, he’s technically my boss, but he would never hold my personal choices against me. The line between Max and me is already blurred as hell, and Henry knows that, but he knows I’d never let a man—no matter how irritatingly attractive—compromise my work. I never have. I never will. My vagina and my career have an understanding—they operate on entirely different circuits.
Henry folds his arms over his chest. “My guess? He wouldn’t let that dictate the job. This account is career-defining for him—more so than it is for us. He’s not going to mess it up over running into you at some club.” He pauses, considering. “Anna’s level-headed, right? I can’t imagine her brother making business decisions based on something so… personal.”
I lean forward. “It wasn’t justsome club, Henry.It was asexclub.”
He shrugs. “So what? You have similar interests.”
“I rejected him,” I deadpan.
He straightens his spine. “He’ll probably respect you more for it. I know I would.”
I shoot him a look. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
His eyes narrow. “When have I ever said anything just to make you feel better?”
He has a point. Henry is brutally honest.
“Fair,” I say, straightening a pile of papers that doesn’t need straightening. “So, what now? Just wait?”
“Yes. And when Max makes his decision, we’ll either celebrate or drink ourselves into oblivion. Either way, there will be alcohol.”
I press my palms together in a prayer position. “Amen.”
My pulse kicks into overdrive as Henry and I make our way to the CEO’s office. The call came just after lunch—Chadwick wants us to join a meeting with him and Max regarding the campaign.
This is it.
We either keep it, or we lose it.
I swear to God, if Louise steals this project from me because I have voluptuous breasts that two thin pieces of silk couldn’t hold together, I’ll go apeshit.
The silence between Henry and me is deafening. Neither of us has said a word. We’re both too busy clenching our cheeks to avoid shitting ourselves. It feels like we’re being marched into a room where we have to choose the red pill or the blue pill.
