“Here, come this way, then,” JP says, ushering me around the gauntlet of photographers to a back entrance where a few cars are parked, most likely ready to sneak people in and out.
When we reach the door, JP opens it for me and we’re greeted by a doorman.
“JP Cane,” JP says.
The man doesn’t even bother looking at the clipboard in his hand, he just offers us a curt nod and then lets us in the back entrance.
Once inside, we pause a few feet away from the door and I lean against the wall, composing myself.
“God, I almost fell flat on my face.” I press my hand to my chest, taking a deep breath. JP is adjusting his tie when our eyes connect. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome,” he answers calmly. Sweetly.
Are we in some sort of alternate reality? Because... this is a different side of JP, one I didn’t know existed. He’s being... nice. There’s no snark, there’s no insult, no teasing. He’s being normal. Did I actually trip and, instead of being steadied by him, fall into some sort of black hole?
“That could’ve been embarrassing,” I say, patting down my dress and checking to make sure everything is in place.
“I’ve seen worse. You probably would’ve just fallen to your knees, a boob would’ve popped out, and then it would’ve been blurred in photos. Not a big deal.”
“Uh, that would’ve been mortifying to me.”
“Seems like a fun Friday night to me,” he says with a reassuring smile. He’s not trying to set me off, he’s just trying to help me forget. He takes a step forward, leaving little room between us as he reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
His fingers linger.
My pulse escalates.
And oh my God, why am I reacting to his touch, to his proximity?
Clearing my throat, I say, “Well, I know that must have been painful for you. Helping me, that is.”
His eyes study me and I can feel myself wilt under the steely gaze of his green eyes. Just like Huxley’s, they’re hungry, unmistakably intense, and there’s nothing I can do to tear my eyes away as my core temperature spikes. His cologne—serving more as an aphrodisiac—swirls around me, and when he takes another step forward, my mouth goes dry. “You might think I don’t like you, Kelsey,” he says with a shake of his head, “but that’s not the case at all. I actually—”
“There you are,” calls a feminine voice from down the hall. “I saw your brother come in but I didn’t see you. Got a little worried you were going to stand me up.”
JP looks to the left, where a beautiful blonde in a brilliantly sparkling gold gown is standing, looking nervous but also genuine at the same time.
“Hi,” she says to me. “I’m Genesis.”
“Oh, hi.” I wave while JP puts some distance between us, and from the corner of my eye, I catch him pull on the back of his neck, his veins straining. “Genesis, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Kelsey.”
“Kelsey, as in the sustainable organizer Kelsey?”
I smile politely. “That would be me.”
“Wow, I’m really impressed with your work. JP was showing me the kinds of changes you’ve made in the office the other day.”
I glance at JP. “You have?” That’s... shocking, to say the least. I didn’t think JP even cared what I did under the guise of my job. In all honesty, I assumed he thought it was just a bunch of wasted time and resources from the way he approached managing me. From the more efficient filing, to the cans of water in the break room, I didn’t think he cared.
“Oh yes, he talks about it all the time. He’s very impressed by you.”
Okay...
Okay, everyone.
Let’s all take a collective breath, because I truly, truly think I’m in a different world right now. What on earth is happening?
JP Cane talks about me all the time? Better yet, he’s impressed? That’s not like him, some might even say quite off-brand for him. Impressed? No, more like irritated by my presence, right?
