I have no doubt if we were in the same room, he’d be in my space attempting to intimidate me. But I’m in my own office and I’m safe.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, debating how far to take this and decide, screw it. I’m not going to let him have the upper hand. “I’ll tell you what, Adam. I can call your director and explain how his head curator won’t discuss a huge opportunity for the museum and is completely unprofessionalorwe can have the conversation right now, over the phone.”
“You are such a spoiled bitch. You always think you’re better than everyone else. That if you snap your fingers, I’ll do what you say,” he says in the angry tone I only began to hear at the end of our relationship when I wouldn’t go along with his demands.
I’m still shocked he’d fooled me into thinking he was a nice guy and a gentleman in the early days of dating. “Okay. Calling your boss it is.” I move the phone from my ear, about to disconnect the call, when I hear him speak.
“Fine. Let’s talk business.”
Relieved I’ve won this round, I pitch my idea, knowing how much money a ticket for Thunder memorabilia will bring to the museum. Adam might want to hang up on me or berate me for his amusement, but he needs this booking and he knows it.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve secured the exhibit with details to be worked out at a later date. “Oh, one more thing,” I tell him, then continue before he can speak. “You won’t be working with me. I’ll be sending someone on my team to handle things. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” I say, and disconnect the call.
Unfortunately, I would never subject another woman to Adam’s difficult personality and lying charm. I wouldn’t want to risk someone possibly falling for him and then seeing the creep beneath the smooth exterior when it might be too late. Butsomeoneneeds to work closely with Adam, and it can’t be me.
I could ask my father or brothers to help, but that will make them get all protective, and I’ve worked too hard to escape their watchful eyes to alert them to potential issues with my ex again. Which brings me to the person I embarrassed myself with yesterday.
I’m pretty sure if I ask Lucas to run interference with Adam, he’ll be more than happy to do it. I just need to gather the courage to face him again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lucas
Friday night andthe club is packed. I’m hanging with Tristan, and Jack, who is leaving tomorrow for Charleston to scope out locations for our second night club. His departure had to be pushed back due to storms there, so we have time, just the three of us.
We’ve been talking for an hour and I’m nursing a drink, doing my usual survey of all that’s happening at Midnight. Below our level is the dance floor. I stare, taking in our guests dancing, bodies writhing against each other, and loud music keeping the mood elevated.
Suddenly, Tristan rises from his seat. “I’m heading out. I have a lady to meet.”
“New week, new lady?” Jack asks, a knowing smirk on his face.
Tristan grins. “You know it. Why get pinned down by one when there are so many? Right, Lucas?”
I raise an eyebrow. I may have felt the same way a few years ago. We both have a history of not wanting to commit, and when I was younger, I enjoyed variety. But the merry-go-round of women has been getting stale for a while.
“That’s not it, not anymore,” I say. I want a relationship. Someone to lie down with at night and wake up beside in the morning. Mutual love and support. Things I never had as a child. “But I’ve just screwed up any relationship I’ve tried to have.”
As soon as someone got close, I’d push them away. No one ever knewme. But Rainey does. She’s already aware of moreabout my past than any female I’ve been with before. I’ve opened up to her, giving her tidbits of information I never wanted to share.
I don’t want to get all sentimental and shit with the guys, so I say, “It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone.” Something I haven’t given any thought to.
Until Rainey. Not that I can admit as much.
Tristan, still standing, stares me down, but I’m not giving in. He may know about my feelings for Jack’s sister, but he’d never betray me.
“It’s been over a year, hasn’t it?” he asks, serious, no teasing in his tone.
I roll my eyes. “Keeping track of my sex life?”
He lifts one shoulder. “It’s so pathetic, it’s hard not to,” he quips back.
Jack snorts. “Look down at the dance floor. I have no doubt you could find someone to take home for the night if you wanted.”
“I could say the same for you, Jack,” Tristan says.
Jack shakes his head. “Don’t you have plans? Just go and leave us alone,” he mutters.
I understand. I have my issues with connection and Jack has his. Dumped by his fiancée, he’s been picky ever since.
