Page 2 of Threaded Lies

But then Chad speaks.

And changes everything.

“I have a plan on how we can make this work. How we can both benefit from it. Let me explain.”

My conversation with Chad replays in my mind. How was it only nine days ago that it took place and my world tilted askew again from one hour to the next?

But it did.

And I’m here.

Trying to wear it like a second skin when I hate the very feeling of it. But no one would know that from the outside looking in. I offer smiles and greetings to my staff in the marketing department as I stride through the second floor toward our in-house studio. A photographer awaits my arrival.

Holden wanted a new campaign for TinSpirits? I’m giving him one.

And in the process, I’m more than ready to show him just who he fucked with.

You wanted a war, Holden Knight.

You’ve got one.

Two, most definitely, can play this game.

TWO

Holden

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Audrey asks as she enters my office. As my personal assistant, scheduler, right-hand person over the years, she’s the only person in this whole damn place who has the balls to do so.

“No,” I grunt, my back to her as I continue to rifle vigorously through the files on the credenza behind my desk.

“Perfect. So this is about the time when I tell you how absolutely giddy I’ve been, getting up the past few mornings to come to work and deal with a surly fucker such as yourself,” she says flatly.

I glance over my shoulder to catch the sarcasm etched in the lines of her face. My glare is the only answer I give as I continue to sort through the piles of shit on my desk.

I never have piles on my desk.

I never lose anything.

And I’ve never gotten screwed over by a woman before, either.

First time for everything, Knight.

I straighten up as if staring at the whole of the desktop will help me see what’s right in front of me.

But I can’t find the folder on WillowBend. All I see is the box of cuff links I had shoved into the corner, which makes no fucking sense in light of the current situation.

Why did Rowan leave them on my desk for me? A parting gift? A silent consolation prize or a fuck you as she agrees to marry dickless Chad? At least I’m assuming they were from her—the sunburst-shaped cuff links inside. Sunshine. My nickname for her.

I’d ask her but that would mean I’d have to talk to her. Fuck that. I will not call. I will not text.

I let my guard down.

I got fucked and don’t even know why.

It won’t be happening again.

“You look like shit, Holden,” Audrey says.