I roll my eyes. “Doing karate and turning into the fucking Kung Fu Panda will not relieve my stress, Emily. It’s laughable that you think that it would.”
“Okay, well, hell, go for a run. I don’t want you day drinking.”
I snap my arm around her waist, unable to control myself any longer. “And I told you I don’t want you out with other men. Especially him.”
She runs her fingers through my stubble as she smiles softly. “You’re my only man,” she whispers up at me. “It’s you that I’m thinking about.”
I feel my anger slowly leave me as we kiss.
“I need you tonight,” she says softly.
God, I need her too. No, stick to the rules. “It’s not Tuesday.”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you have to disobey me on every single thing, Ms. Foster?”
“Just you wait to see how naughty I’m going to be tonight, Mr. Miles,” she breathes as I pull her against me to feel my erection.
“Ahem.” A voice sounds at the door, and we both look up, startled.
Emily jumps back from me. “Tristan,” she splutters. “I was just . . .” Her eyes flick between him and me. “I mean, I . . .”
Tristan chuckles. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” she stammers. “I’m leaving.” She practically runs for the door. “Ah, um, goodbye.”
I smirk as I watch her face turn a deep crimson. Tristan already knows—we tell each other everything. “Goodbye, Ms. Foster. I shall send the car for you at seven.”
She nods in embarrassment and scurries from the office, and I smile after her.
Tristan’s eyes hold mine for a moment. “She’s good for you.”
“That’s debatable.”
Emily
I smile broadly at the closed elevator doors in front of me. It worked. I wanted to calm him down, and it worked. He’s a mirror. If I’m calm, he’s calm.
Maybe if I’m honest, he’ll be honest, and I don’t know what that means for my little hard-to-get act, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough. He didn’t seem annoyed when I told him I missed him—he actually seemed relieved. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. I get back to my floor, and my eyes scan the room as I walk back to my desk.
Somebody working here, alongside me, is a thief. They’re stealing from the Miles family; the company’s value is plummeting, and my Jay is stressed beyond belief.
I wish I could talk to Molly and Aaron about this. I’m sure if we brainstormed together, we could come up with more than Jake has.
I can’t; I gave them my word I wouldn’t tell a soul. I take a seat back at my desk.
“How did it go?” Aaron asks.
“Fine,” I lie.
“It’s blatantly obvious that Mr. Miles has a thing for you.” Molly smirks.
“Why is it?” I ask.
“We never got this kind of specialized training program.” Her eyes flick to Aaron. “Did we?”
“Nope,” he replies as his eyes stay glued to his computer. “Please tell me you are secretly going up there to suck his dick.”
I smirk but stay silent.
Molly’s eyes come to me in question. “Are you?”
I shrug. I can’t lie to them; I just won’t elaborate.
“What the fuck?” Aaron whispers as he rolls his chair over to mine; Molly, too, rolls her chair over next to mine. “You have seen him?”
“Possibly.”
“What the fuck?” Molly whispers. “When?”
“A few times, but Friday night was the last time I saw him.”
Aaron does a cross over his chest and pretends to pray. “Thank you, Jesus.”
“But don’t say anything,” I whisper. “It’s just very casual, nothing to get excited about yet.”
Molly’s eyes widen in exasperation. “Are you kidding me? Screwing Jameson Miles is something to get excited about, woman. Have you seen him?”
I smile broadly at their over-the-top reactions. “I’m just playing it cool, but I am going up there for a project with Tristan and not to see Jay.” That’s not lying—it is true . . . ish.
Aaron puts his hand over his chest. “Oh hell, she calls him Jay. Be still my beating heart.”
“Kill me now.” Molly sighs dreamily. “Have you been to his apartment?”
“Uh-huh, and he spent the night at mine.”
Their eyes widen. “He came to your house?” Aaron shrieks.