There it was again. The question he’d asked four times in the last hour.
I glanced at him, amused. "What?"
“The movers. Do you want to call and see how it’s going?”
“Do you?”
His mouth pressed into a thin line.
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I smiled faintly. “If you’re worried, you can call.”
He stared at me as if that would change my mind.
“That wasn’t an answer.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
His fingers drummed against the table. “Evania, this is your apartment. Your things.”
“And they’re being moved into your house,” I corrected lightly. “I trust you hired competent people.”
He exhaled sharply, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he visibly struggled not to argue. I only smiled sweetly, enjoying his effort to keep calm.
Christina’s lips twitched as if she found the exchange entertaining, but her eyes kept drifting toward Callahan. Not in a professional way. Soft smile. Slightly parted lips. Eyes lingering just a second too long.
Callahan stood abruptly and crossed the room toward his desk, muttering something under his breath. Probably about how impossible I was. The movement made his suit jacket shift just slightly, outlining broad shoulders and a back that most women would appreciate.
Including Christina.
I raised a brow slowly and cleared my throat.
It wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
Christina jumped like she’d been caught doing something illegal.
A faint flush crept up her neck to her cheeks as her attention snapped to me.
“Oh,” she said quickly, standing. “I’ll send over a few dresses for you to try. Something appropriate for the event.”
“How thoughtful,” I replied smoothly.
She gave him one last lingering look before hurrying out of the office. I slowly turned my head toward Callahan. He was standing at his window, hands in his pockets, staring out at the city like he owned it.
I scoffed.
It came out sharper than I intended, the sound slicing through the quiet of his office.
Callahan looked up immediately from the file in his hand. His brows drew together slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. “What was that for?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Did you know your publicist has a crush on you?”
His expression went blank for half a second, then he burst out laughing. Not a polite chuckle. Not even a surprised laugh. A full, rich, head-thrown-back kind of laugh that filled the room.
