“What’s that look?” He smirks.
“Jameson’s home.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, I hope he’s home. He called me from the airport, and he was all boozy, so I’m hoping he made it onto the plane.”
I look over to see Hayden at the photocopying machine area. He’s talking to a group of girls. “How well do you know Hayden?” I ask.
“Hmm.” He thinks for a moment. “Not that well. Molly knows him from her old job.”
“Where was that?” I ask as I turn my computer on.
“They worked at the Gazette together.”
My eyes flick to him. “Molly worked at the Gazette?”
“Yeah, for years. Miles Media headhunted her.”
Shit. A sinister thought crosses my mind. No, not Molly. Don’t be stupid. It couldn’t be. Don’t even think that.
Tristan and I tested the theory over the last week, and every time I gave Hayden a story before four o’clock, it was printed in the Gazette the next day. There’s definitely a correlation somewhere. Whether it’s Hayden or above him, we’re trying to find out.
I really like Tristan; he’s funny and intelligent and a lot softer around the edges than his brother.
“What happened with Paul last night?” I ask.
“He turned up.” He looks at me sheepishly.
“Oh God,” I mutter dryly. “Don’t tell me you slept with him.”
He hits the keys on his computer with force. “Yep. I can’t resist that fucking asshole.”
“Did you have it out with him yet?”
“No. I want to catch him in the act.”
“So why are you still fucking him?” I snap. “For God’s sake, Aaron, don’t be used.”
“For the record, I’m using him.” He rolls his eyes as he sips his coffee.
“Nobody’s dick is that good,” I huff.
“Except his.” He sighs sadly.
“Ugh.” I wince. “Leave me alone with the asshole for five minutes with a carving knife. I’ll get it for you to take away.”
He laughs, and my phone rings. “Hello.”
“Hi, Emily, this is Sammia.”
“Oh, hi.” Excitement runs through me.
“Mr. Miles would like to see you in his office right away, please.”
A huge smile splits my face. “On my way.” I hang up and stand.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, more training,” I lie.
“Jesus, you’ll be more qualified than anyone on this floor soon.”
“I know.” I smile. “Back soon.” I take the elevator up to the top floor, and the doors open. I can hardly keep a straight face.
He’s here.
I want to run.
“Good morning, Emily.” Sammia smiles. “Just go through.”
“Morning. Okay, thanks.” I walk through and down to Jameson’s office, and I knock on the door.
“Come in,” his deep velvety voice calls.
I open the door, and his eyes come to me with the best “come fuck me” look I’ve ever seen. My breath catches. Standing by the window in his navy suit and crisp white shirt, he is the ultimate male specimen. I forgot how gorgeous he is.
He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Hello.”
“Hi,” I breathe. I have to stop myself from running to him.
The air crackles between us, and he walks to me and takes my face in his hands and kisses me, all suction and a little tongue. I feel my legs go weak at the knees.
“I’ve missed my girl,” he murmurs against my lips.
I smile, and he wraps my ponytail around his hand three times and pulls my head back aggressively. His thick tongue goes to my collarbone and licks up to my neck. “Have you missed me?” he asks as his teeth nip my neck. I wince as arousal runs through my blood like a river rapid. Jesus, the CEO is back in all his glory.
“God, yes,” I breathe.
He kisses me again, and the door opens. “Hey,” Tristan’s voice calls before he stops instantly.
“Not now, Tristan,” Jameson says without letting my ponytail go. His dark eyes stay fixed on mine.
My heart races at the way he’s looking at me. He’s different . . . more intense.
“Sorry,” Tristan says before the door closes.
He kisses me again, my head held back just as he wants me. “I want to make a go of this.”
“Of what?” I breathe.
“Of us.”
“I thought we were?” I frown.