揑 went over to her.?I lean back in my chair, making the leather creak. 揝he was right by me,?I add, as if that detail makes a difference. I can抰 recall the last time I approached a woman in a bar, which Asher is well aware of. He抯 by my side most nights.
Asher whistles, long and low. 揝he must have looked damn good.?
She did. 揑 was curious. I抦 going to be married to her.?
揂nd??
揝he抯卻omething.?I don抰 know how else to categorize our interaction. I can抰 recall the last time I wanted to keep talking to someone, and they walked away. She walked away from me. After I approached her. I didn抰 chase, at least not right away, but I wanted to.
揑n a good way or a bad way??
揑抦 still deciding.?My computer chimes with an alert. As I switch over to my calendar, I groan. I抦 fully booked until lunch. 揑抳e got to go. I抣l see you at one.?We eat lunch together most days.
揧eah. Sure.?
I grab the stack of folders on my desk and head for the door, only glancing over my shoulder at the last minute. 揊eet off the desk, Cotes. I mean it.?
揥hat are you going to do? Fire me as your best friend??
揧ep.?
揟hen who would you complain about slash compliment your fianc閑 to??
I don抰 answer before walking out of the room. But his words stay with me as I walk to my next meeting. Scarlett Ellsworth is my fianc閑。 In a matter of weeks, she抣l be my wife. It doesn抰 really bother me. And that bothers me.
I抦 sitting with Asher and Oliver, talking about the Yankees?train wreck of a season and eating lunch, when my secretary Celeste appears. 揗r. Kensington??
揧es??I look up from the chicken piccata the catering staff delivered for today抯 mid-day meal.
揢m, I抦 sorry to bother you. I know you said not to interrupt you during lunch unless there抯 an emergency棓
揑s there an emergency??
Celeste hesitates before answering. 揗iss Ellsworth is here. She抯 requesting to speak with you immediately. You didn抰 leave me any instructions on how to handle梬ell, whether to let you know厰 Another pause. 揝he抯 quite persistent.?
Asher and Oliver both look at me. Asher appears as surprised as I feel. Oliver抯 gaze is discerning; he抯 attempting to assess my reaction.
揌ere??I question. 揝carlett Ellsworth is here??
揧es, sir.?
揝end her into my office,?I instruct. 揑抣l be there shortly.?
Celeste nods before disappearing back into the hallway. I stand and shrug on my suit jacket, taking a few extra seconds to straighten the lapels and orient myself. Why is she here?
揥hat is she doing here??Oliver asks, voicing my confusion.
揝he抯 probably scoping out the place.?Asher drops his fork and sends the miniature basketball he likes to carry around up into the air, then catches it. 揝he抯 about to gain a substantial stake in Kensington Consolidated.?
Oliver scoffs at that. 揥hy would she care? She抯 got her fashion shit to focus on.?
I say nothing before I walk out of the suite that serves as the floor抯 break room. The glass door shuts soundlessly behind me as I stroll down the hallway that leads to the main executives?offices, which includes mine. Employees scutter out of my way as I pass.
Celeste is back at her desk when I reach the end of the hall.
揝he抯 inside??I ask.
My secretary nods. I want to take a moment梩o prepare to see her梑ut I can抰。 Aside from Celeste, there are at least a dozen people in this wing of the building surreptitiously eyeing me. Hesitation is weakness, and I refuse to show it. I stroll into my office like I own it梬hich I do.
Scarlett is standing behind my desk, staring out at the skyline. The afternoon sun shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing my office梐nd her梚n golden light.
She turns at the sound of the door closing behind me. The silk material of her navy dress swishes around her thighs as she moves, strolling to the side of my desk. Her confident posture suggests this is her office, not mine. No one ventures behind the stretch of mahogany, much less leans against it, the way she is casually doing. Fifteen years of friendship, and all Asher has ever dared to do is rest his shoes on one corner.
She crosses her arms. 揟ook you long enough.?
揝ome of us have important matters to handle, darling.?
揧our secretary said you were at lunch.?
I grind my molars. 揑t was a working lunch.?
揝ure.?
Normally, I抎 immediately stride behind my desk and take a seat in the leather chair. But if I do that, I won抰 be able to maintain eye contact with her. If I sit down, I抣l be beneath her, looking up. So I stay where I am, essentially ceding control of the room to her.
Scarlett smirks, realizing the same, then straightens. She pulls a thick packet of papers out of her handbag and tosses them onto my desk with a soft smack. 揑 need you to sign these.?