Kelsey: Oh, please, tell me more about these favors.
Charlee: Well, he really likes it when you tickle—
Rath: We bumped into each other at an office supply convention. I needed an assistant. She drove me insane with her incessant jabbering. Somehow, I fell in love, we got married, end of story.
Charlee: Isn’t he just so charming?
Chapter Eight
JP
Two weeks later . . .
“Hey.” There’s a knock at my door. I lift my head to see Huxley poke his head in. “Conference room in ten.”
“Got the eleven fucking memos you sent already. I’ll be there.”
“Just making sure.”
“I’m a grown-ass man, Hux. I know how to schedule my damn day.” I turn back to my computer and click through the annoying emails I’ve put off answering all morning.
When my door shuts, I heave a sigh of relief, that’s until I realize Huxley never left, but rather let himself into my office. He occupies a seat across from me and crosses one leg over the other.
“Mind telling me why you’ve been such a bastard lately?”
I press my fingers into my brow, attempting to massage the impending migraine away.
“How about you go back to your office and leave me the hell alone?”
“You see, I would do that, but we have a meeting in ten minutes and I can’t have you acting like a dick in there.”
My eyes snap up to his. “When have I ever been a dick to people in the conference room?”
“Uh, all fucking week. Not to mention, you’ve been stomping around here with a chip on your shoulder. Everyone’s aware of your mood and there have been rumblings that people are uncomfortable.”
“Oh, well, Jesus Christ, I should just slap on a happy face, then, shouldn’t I? I wouldn’t want to cause a stir in the office. Heaven forbid someone should have some fucking feelings in this place.”
“Dude,” Hux says, sitting taller in his chair now. “What the hell is going on? You’ve been like this ever since the fundraiser. Is this about Genesis?”
Of course, he’d go there because I haven’t spoken a goddamn word to anyone about that night. Neither Huxley nor Breaker saw how the old man took me out. Neither saw how I danced with Kelsey and held her so close to me that, and how, for the first time since I met her, I felt something click inside my head, that where I was, what I was doing, was actually right.
I didn’t say anything, because the night didn’t end the way I wanted it to.
There was no intention of taking her inside my house.
There wasn’t even a thought of taking her to my bedroom.
My only purpose at the end of the night was to make sure she understood how fucking beautiful she was. How I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her and couldn’t fathom how stupid her date had been in leaving her, missing his one chance at having her. I wanted her to know that, in my eyes, her smile had outshone all the radiance of the room, and that she was easily the most captivating woman in there.
I didn’t want her to leave thinking she wasn’t valued, that she was disposable.
I meant what I said, Edwin was an idiot. An absolute fool.
Genesis is beautiful and smart. But she has nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, on Kelsey.
And I wanted to show Kelsey that. But, Kelsey didn’t take it that way.
No, she saw me as a man acting kind to have a chance at lifting her skirt.
She saw me as nothing but a man with an agenda that involved the bedroom.
She could not have been more wrong.
Insult eclipsed me.
I shut down.
And there was no coming back from it.
I’ve been a bastard ever since.
When I’ve seen her in the office, I’ve avoided her. All correspondence has been through email, and I’ve canceled two meetings with her so far, blaming some media bullshit that I made up.
“Yeah, sure, this is about Genesis,” I answer.
Huxley studies me and is about to say something when Breaker comes into the office and says, “There you are. Hux, I need your signature on a few things before the meeting.”
Eyes on me, Huxley stands and says, “This isn’t over.”
The fuck it’s not. In my eyes, this conversation is dead at this point.
I wave him away and when the door shuts, I let out a heavy breath and push back from my desk. I turn toward my window and lean back, staring out over the lines of palm trees along the streets.
I don’t think I’ve ever been in this kind of funk, one that has taken over just about every aspect of my life. Sleep evades me. Working out has become more of an escape for frustration rather than enjoyment. And my nights out with friends have turned into nights in, vibrating with anger as I pace my house, only to end up in my workout room, where I slip on a pair of boxing gloves and repeatedly punch my bag until my knuckles can’t take the abuse anymore.