With that, Greer rose from his seat and closed his door. He inched closer to me, his stifling cologne nearly choking me. “Baby girl, you think this is about the stadium. I could give a shit about that stadium for a second-rate soccer team and slick-haired Spaniards who make shit wine. This is about my partnership. It’s clear that Porter isn’t fit to take this firm to the next level. And you’re part of the reason. You’re a good designer, Ari, no doubt. But you don’t belong here. You’re a distraction to the firm. Especially to Porter.”
I furrowed my brow. “A distraction? To Porter?”
Greer chuckled, dryly. “Yeah. We aren’t blind, Ari. If Porter became partner, he’d promote you to senior associate in no time. Give you the better projects. Maybe even a corner office. How would that look to the partners?” He paused, looking me up and down. “Especially since you’re fucking him.”
I felt my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right,” said Greer, unconvinced. “The long lunches. The ‘remote’ working. The way he looks at you. Touches you when you think no one is looking. I guess Maurice was right about one thing. You’ll fuck anything that moves. Had I known it was that easy…” Greer reached, squeezing my wrist with a firm grip. “Maybe I would have taken you for a ride. So, this is how we’re going to play this. You’re going to say absolutely nothing. Not a word from that pudgy face of yours or I’ll make damn sure you’re out on your ass again and not a single firm will be willing to hire you.”
I twisted my wrist away from him. “You wouldn’t. You don’t scare me.”
Greer moved back. “Don’t test me, bitch. You don’t know what connections I have. Now get out of my fucking office.”
The way Greer said those words made my blood run cold. I hurried to my office, closed my door, and then the blinds. I leaned against the wall next to the door as tears wet the collar of my blouse. I knew this would happen. I looked over at my desk. There had been fresh bouquets of stargazer lilies delivered every day to my office since the night of the gala. Once pleasant, the scent began to turn my stomach.
Dear God. What had we done?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Porter
This evening, I walked into my loft to find Ari, dressed in sweatpants and a tee, seated at the kitchen island. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she looked like a sexy college coed. I placed two greasy brown paper bags in front of Ari, whose head was buried in her laptop. When the scent of the delicious food didn’t move Ari, I cleared my throat.
“Ms. James, I went all the way to Doraville, in thirty-degree weather, for these birria tacos from El Taco Veloz. They’re the best in the city. This consommé smells like heaven. You know I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Dig in, babe!”
Ari barely looked up from her laptop, her reading glasses perched on her nose. “Oh. Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
I folded my arms, leaning against my kitchen counter. “Ari, what’s going on? You barely ate anything at lunch. When have you ever turned down tacos of any sort? Need I remind you of the ownership of a shirt that says tacos are life?”
Ari huffed, then mumbled, “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
I stared at Ari, confused. Ari’s sarcasm usually wasn’t a turnoff for me, but today it was annoying. Combined with her aloofness, it made me ready to blow a gasket. We’d been working nonstop on our presentation, trying to sew up the final design. Not to mention, due to our crazy work schedule, we hadn’t had sex in days, so there may have been some pent-up angst. I was man enough to admit that.
I moved behind her, lifting her ponytail away from her neck, kissing along the curve of her neck. “Come on, Mon Coeur. I even have that Belgian pale ale in the fridge you like. The one with the long ass name I can’t pronounce. Let’s have a drink, eat these tacos, and admire my poorly decorated Christmas tree. Take a break, baby girl.”
Ari sighed, moving her neck away from the feel of my lips. A feeling of icy dread swept over me. “Porter, I said I wasn’t hungry. This may come as a shock to you, but sometimes I don’t feel like eating. Now is one of them.”
I backed away, raising my hands. “Whoa. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking that at all.” I sat on the barstool and looked at Ari. Her eyes were tired, and her energy was low. Not low, sad. I placed my hand on her leg, massaging her thick sweatpants-clad thigh. “Ari. What’s going on? Talk to me. Ever since we met with the partners today, you’ve been acting weird. Did I do something?”