The visceral effect those two words have on me is earth trembling. I clench my thighs and thank modern medicine for my suppressants and deodorizers. If I didn’t have them, I would be hot boxing this airplane with my scent.
Hearing I’m doing a good job or how proud people are of me fuels me more than anything, but Smith saying it feels different. He isn’t one for compliments, and while he has, in his own way, told me how hard I work and what I do is impressive, he hasn’t directly said anything like that before.
I’m desperate for him to approve of how I handle this meeting with Young Memphis. Maybe he will call me a good girl again.
Pathetic.
He hasn’t even looked at me in a sexual way. I told him he looked like fucking Shrek last night after I threw up in front of him. That’s about as far away from sexy as you can get.
I can’t help but notice how good he looks today either. His veiny forearms are on display as he texts on his phone. I’m caught ogling him when he looks up, and I move my gaze to his face.
“Oh, hey,” Smith says, scratching his beard. “I would never usually ask this, but an old friend of mine, he lives in New York. I guess his girl is pretty obsessed with you. I was hoping to get them tickets or something for the New York show. He will pay whatever amount.”
“Sure, we can meet before the concert. Thank you for asking and not surprising me with this the day of.”
“Someone has done that?”
“Kenny was kind of a slut, I just so happened to run into his current girlfriends all the time.”
He grimaces and shakes his head. “I don’t date, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
I arch an eyebrow at him and shrug.Why did I just feel a little jealous?“I’d love to meet your friends.”
“Thanks, they had a rough year. She was kidnapped by her dad or some shit.”
“What? That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, Grayson is one of the coolest people I know, even if he is rich.”
“What’s wrong with being rich?” I ask him.
“Nothing, just some rich people can be assholes.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“I’ll text him and let him know. I know Liv will be excited. I haven’t met her yet either.”
“Maybe we’ll hit it off and I’ll have a friend in New York.” He smiles at me and messes around on his phone. He’s pleased with me, and it feels different from making other people happy. Smith seems like he is hard to please.
I wear my power bitch suit. White high-waisted trousers and a blazer that buttons across my chest, showing the right amount of skin while screaming don’t mess with me. I’m wearing a simple auburn wig, hoping I’m not outright recognized while out. Knowing Dirty, he will probably show up in some hideous track suit with a pet tiger.
“You got this,” Smith whispers in my ear before he opens the restaurant door for me.
I straighten my spine and strut into the place like I own it, and I’m here to do business.
Young Memphis stands from the table and embraces me in an awkward hug. I hate hugging Alphas that I don’t know. His smoky and Everclear scent is going to be stuck in my nostrils all day.
“You hide your scent?” he asks. As we take our seats. Smith sits a table over to give us some privacy.
“It’s safer this way,” I reply.
“I get it, baby doll. What happened to you was fucked up.” I’m shocked that he even mentioned it or sees my side of things.
“Yes, yes it was.”
“How bad has it damaged your image?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
