I stir the mushroom sauce with my mind in overdrive.
Jameson’s different . . . I’m talking Twilight Zone different. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or the beginning of the end for us. Just when I get used to his old weirdness, he ups the ante.
The masseuse has just left, and he’s in the shower again as he washes the oil off. I’m not going in there because we will end up having sex, and dinner is nearly ready . . . and I want to talk to him without my arousal high clouding my brain cells.
It happens a lot with him.
He walks back out in his towel, and his eyes find me across the room. He gives me a slow, sexy smile.
“Can you not walk around in a towel when we have visitors, please?” I snap.
He smirks.
“Those two ditzy shoppers are at home going to town on their vibrators at this very moment as they picture you in that white towel.” I roll my eyes. “Living their”—I hold my fingers up to accentuate my point—“best life.”
He chuckles as he takes me in his arms. “Jealous?”
“Yes, I am, actually. I don’t like other women looking at you. It makes me stabby,” I snap as I stir the sauce. “Cut it out with the sexy smiling around other women too.”
His lips come to my neck as he holds me from behind, and I can feel his erection up against my behind. “Let’s go to bed.”
“No, you’re eating first.” I point to the kitchen counter. “Sit.”
His eyes dance in delight, and he does as he’s told. I place his dinner in front of him. “Hmm, looks good.” He smiles.
I sit beside him and watch him for a moment as he eats. “Why did you ask Alan to move my stuff in here?”
He chews his steak. “Because I want you to move in.”
“Since when? We haven’t discussed this at all.”
“Yes, we have.” He swallows his food. “We talked about it this morning.”
“When?” I frown.
“When I told you that I wanted to do this, and you said me too.”
I stare at him, my mind a clusterfuck of confusion. “Jameson, doing this is in my mind holding hands in public and dating. Maybe meeting each other’s families.”
He frowns as he watches me.
“What’s with the sudden change? Last week you got angry with me for falling in love with you. I couldn’t even look at you after sex without you getting upset with me.”
He sips his wine, obviously annoyed. “You said you didn’t love me. Are you saying that now you do?”
“That’s not the point. You know what I mean.”
“I want us to make a go of it.” He shrugs. “So today I moved forward with my plans.”
“Plans?” I frown. “I’m not a business transaction, Jameson. You don’t move forward with your plans without talking to me first. They aren’t just your plans, you know.”
He clenches his jaw, unimpressed, as his eyes hold mine.
“There are two people in this relationship, Jay, and me loving you does not mean you get to take me over.”
“I know that,” he snaps. “So you do love me now? Make up your mind, woman.”
“Stop changing the subject. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“Yes, Emily.” He sighs as if he’s getting lectured by the school principal.
“I just don’t know why you’ve had this sudden change of heart.” I shrug. “It’s peculiar.”
“My heart hasn’t changed at all. My situation has.”
“What does that mean?” I frown.
He exhales heavily. “I went and saw Claudia in London.”
Oh no, his ex. I’m not supposed to know that. I had better play dumb. “Who’s Claudia?”
“My ex.”
I frown as I try my hardest to hold my tongue. Act calm, act calm.
“I broke it off with her.”
My eyes widen in horror. “What the hell?” I snap. “You were still with her?”
“No, but we had promised each other that we wouldn’t date anyone else seriously.”
I begin to break into a cold sweat as I try to hold it together. “Why?”
“Because we planned on getting back together in a few years.”
I knew it; I knew it back then that something was off. Damn it, why didn’t I see the writing on the wall? I pick up my wineglass and drain it as I stare at him. Jeez, this is news. Bad news.
“I told her I have strong feelings for you.”
“You did?” I frown as a tiny piece of hope blooms in my chest.
He smiles and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I did.”
“What else did you say?” I ask calmly. I want to blurt out a million questions about the two of them.
“That it was over between us.”
“Did you love her?”
“Yes.” He pauses for a moment as if contemplating that statement. “In my own way, I did. In hindsight, I realize that our relationship was never normal. Not like ours is anyway.”
I stare at him, lost for words. Grateful that he’s finally being honest and yet terrified that their union was so strong that it withstood an open relationship. There’s no way in hell I could ever do that. “You think our relationship is normal?” I ask.
He smiles and leans in and kisses me softly. “Don’t you?”
“No. To me our relationship is exciting and wonderful and exotic.” I stare at him. “Normal gets boring very quick, Jameson.”
“I told her that I want to build a future with you.”
Okay, that sounds a bit better. I smirk as I try to hold in a smile.
“I also told her that I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met and that you are the only woman I want to be with from here on in.”
A broad, goofy smile does break through this time. “Did you tell her I had motorized sneakers?” I whisper.
He chuckles, and his eyes twinkle with something special as he cups my face in his hand. “I did.”
“What does this mean, Jay?” My eyes search his. “For us.”
“It means that I’m all yours.” He shrugs. “If you want me.”
What? All mine?
I blink . . . in shock. “Have you been holding yourself back from me all this time?”
“I have, and I can’t do it any longer.”
“What does this mean . . . for us?”
“It means I want you to move in, and we go full steam ahead from here.”
“What’s the rush?” I frown. “Can’t we ease into it?”
He leans in and kisses me softly; his big blue eyes hold mine. “I don’t do things in halves, Emily.”
“Meaning?” I whisper.
“Meaning that my woman is my world.”
I stare at him as the air leaves my lungs.
“I work hard . . . but I love harder.”
My heartbeat sounds through my ears. Is this really happening?
“I’m in love with you, Emily Foster.” He leans in and kisses me slowly. His tongue swipes through my open lips with such emotion that I get a lump in my throat. “I can’t help it. I tried to stop it, and I couldn’t. I think I’ve loved you since our first night together in Boston. You stayed with me. I fought it, and still, I couldn’t forget you. I’ve been carrying your scarf around like a lovesick fool for more than a year.”
I stare at him.
“So please forgive me if I want to go full steam ahead. This is not a snap decision. It’s been coming for a long time, and now that I’m in a position to act on it, I don’t want to waste any more time. I want you with me. By my side.”
I stare at him while my brain catches up. What the . . . ?
Holy shit.
He picks up his knife and fork. “Now I’m going to eat this beautiful dinner that you’ve made for me, and then I’m going to take you to bed and make you forget everything that I said to you about not falling for me, and then, hopefully, you can show me that you have some kind of resemblance of feelings for me too.”
I smile as my heart swells.
“Okay?” he asks before he takes a mouthful of food.
“Okay.” I sip my wine with a shaky hand. I look down at my dinner and smirk.
Mushroom sauce . . . my new love potion.
Abracadabra.
Jameson Miles just blew my fucking mind.
I roll over and put my hand out, and I frown. Jameson isn’t in bed beside me. I glance over at the clock: 3:33 a.m. Where is he?
I get out of bed and walk down the hall in search of my man. The kitchen light is on.
Hmm, but no Jay.
I walk down to the other end of the apartment and see the light coming from his office, and I tiptoe up the hall.
Jameson is sitting at his desk; his thumbnail rubs back and forth over his bottom lip as he stares at the computer screen as it lights up the room.
I stand silently at the door as I watch him. He’s frowning, deep in concentration.
What’s waking him up in the middle of the night? What’s he worried about?
For five minutes, I watch him in silence. I can feel the worry oozing out of him. Finally, I can take it no more. “Hey,” I whisper.
He glances up, startled. “Hello, sweetheart.” He smiles softly.
I walk over and look over his shoulder at the screen. It displays a graph with a red line that gradually declines.
Stock Value: Miles Media.
Shit.
I climb onto his lap and kiss his lips softly. “You can’t sleep?”
He runs his hand down my naked back. “I’m fine.”
But he’s not fine—his company’s value is plummeting. How many millions did his family lose today? “Any news?” I whisper as I stare at the graph in front of me.
“The case?”
He shakes his head. His jaw ticks in anger as his eyes go back to the graph.
He’s like a raging ball of anxiety; I can almost feel his pain. I need to make him forget this for the moment. I kiss his neck, and he smiles as I softly nip down to his collarbone.
I drop to the floor between his legs, and he looks down at me as he runs his hand through my hair. Emotion runs between us, electricity I can’t explain.
“I missed you when you were away,” I whisper as I slowly slide his boxers off.
He smiles softly as I kiss his dick. It flexes in approval. “I missed my man,” I whisper as I take him in my mouth. “My body missed you.” I need to make him forget where he is, who he is. This stress has to leave. Now I want to be that spontaneous woman he met twelve months ago, the one who blew his mind.
He inhales sharply and spreads his legs, granting me access.
Our eyes are locked as I suck on the most private part of his body, the one that nobody gets to see. He’s thick and hard, and I can see every vein on his engorged length. I lick up his length and then flick my tongue over his end, and I can almost hear the arousal as it runs through his body like a river rapid.
“Fuck my mouth,” I whisper as I watch him.
His eyes darken.
“Take my hair in your hands, and fuck my mouth,” I murmur around him.
His eyes dance with fire, and he grabs my hair in both hands and surges forward.
I’m blessed with a burst of preejaculate, and I close my eyes and moan.
He begins to slide his cock deep down my throat, and I hum around him. What must I look like, on my hands and knees, naked, under my boyfriend’s desk? My own arousal takes shape, and I spread my legs, and he moans as he begins to really pump. I take him in my hand, and my fist follows my mouth as I begin to work him hard.
He needs it hard.
I can see every muscle contract in his stomach as he clenches, and I push his legs open farther and take his balls in my hand.
“Fuck,” he moans.
“Come,” I whisper. “Blow. I want to drink you down.”
His eyes roll back in his head, and he really lets me have it.
I smile around him. I love it when I bring him undone like this. It’s like I hover up in the air and watch with a special detachment.
An audience of one—the best porn on the planet.
His stomach contracts, and I smile as he shoots down my throat. I concentrate on not gagging. It’s hard with a cock this big, but when he opens his eyes, they’re blazing . . . and all my fears are laid to rest.
This is what I love. I love loving Jameson with the unbridled passion that he brings out in me. I’ve never been this woman before, but with him . . . it’s natural. As if he was the missing link in my sexuality. We’ve already had sex once earlier tonight, and that time was intimate and loving. Nothing like this, but just as important.
I keep working him, emptying his beautiful body until he drags me up to him and spreads me over his lap.
His lips take mine, and he moans as he tastes himself in my mouth.
I pull back to look at him, the air between us electric, and our eyes lock.
“I love you,” I whisper.
He smiles, and then his lips crash to mine. Our kiss is desperate, and he stands and carries me down the hall back to bed as I cling to him.
Our attachment is deep.
So deep.
For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m home.
I sit and watch Hayden walk across the street toward the café we are in. He’s carrying a briefcase. Why would he need his briefcase on his lunch break? This guy is suspicious as all hell.
“How long have you known Hayden, Moll?” I ask her.
Aaron sips his drink through his straw as he listens and watches Hayden.
The three of us are at our favorite lunch spot and sitting at the bench by the window.
She gives me a lopsided twist of her lips. “About eight years, I think.”
“Aaron said that you used to work with him at your old job.”
“Yeah.” She chews her toasted sandwich as she watches him. “He worked at the Gazette with me.”
My attention goes back to watching him. “You know, I think he’s up to something.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.” She wipes her mouth with her napkin.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“He was fired from the Gazette.”
“What for?” Aaron frowns.
“I don’t know for certain, but the word on the street was that he was involved in a phone-tap scandal.”
“What?”
“Apparently.” She rolls her eyes. “And this is complete speculation, but he was caught tapping one of his coworkers’ phones and stealing her leads.”
My eyes widen. “Really? Who?”
“A girl named Keeley May.”
“Oh yes, the redhead,” remarks Aaron. “She’s fucking hot.”
Molly’s and my eyes go to him. “Since when do you think girls are hot?” Molly asks.
“I’m gay, not blind. I can appreciate a fine female form,” he huffs.
We both roll our eyes.
“Why do you think he’s up to something?” Molly asks.
God, can I tell them? No . . . I have to run it past Tristan first. I can’t break their trust in me. “I told him one of my stories the other day, and I saw that he submitted it as his own,” I lie.
Molly narrows her eyes. “Fucking snake.”
“I have no proof, of course,” I add. “I was just wondering about his character, that’s all.”
“From what I know of him,” she says dryly, “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”
“Like Paul,” Aaron sneers.
“Oh God, what happened now?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He sighs. “He’s just an asshole, that’s all.”
Molly rolls her eyes in disgust. “You know what, Aaron, stop playing the fucking victim here. You know he’s sleeping around, and you’re still sleeping with him. It’s one thing to be deceived, but to willingly go back for more when you know exactly what is going on is just plain pathetic.”
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.”
“Yeah, I do. You’re acting like a damsel in distress. You don’t have kids with him. You don’t have a mortgage. You don’t work with him. The break would be easy. Tell him to fuck off and move on,” she scoffs. “Breakups are hard. Staying with an asshole is harder.”
“Speaking of moving on—Jameson asked me to move in with him,” I say to change the subject.
Aaron snorts his drink, and it goes up his nose. “What the hell?”
“Apparently.” I shrug.
Aaron frowns. “What’s with the turnabout?”
“He went and saw Claudia, his ex, while he was in London.”
“Did he fuck her?” Aaron asks as he chews his straw.
“No, Aaron, fucking other people isn’t normal behavior,” Molly snaps. “Get that through your thick head. Your view on reality is seriously distorted.”
“Fuck, you’re a real bitch today, you know that?” Aaron snaps.
“Well, that communal dick of your boyfriend’s is pissing me off,” she scoffs.
Aaron and I roll our eyes. Molly is especially testy today.
“He said that he and Claudia had planned on getting back together, but he told her he wanted a future with me. He ended it.”
“Holy shit,” Aaron whispers.
“He told me he loves me.”
“What the fuck?” Molly cries. “Are you serious?”
“But . . .” I shrug.
“But what?” Aaron whispers. “There should be no buts anywhere in this story.”
“It’s all so fast. What’s the rush, you know?” I shrug. “I’m scared he’s just stressed.”
They both continue to listen.
“He told me that he’s had feelings since we first met, and it’s been coming for a long time.”
“That could be true.” Molly frowns.
“It could be.” I sip my coffee. “It could also be in his takeover strategy.”
“What takeover strategy?” Molly frowns.
“Jameson Miles gets what he wants,” I reply. “If he’s decided he wants me—”
“Which he has,” Aaron interrupts.
“He will make it happen. I don’t know.” I shrug. “It just all seems too good to be true, and the whole Claudia situation has freaked me out a little. Can I really believe that Claudia and he will just break off all communication now?”
Molly rolls her eyes. “Here we go. Have you two idiots been sniffing ink cartridges today?” She screws up her napkin with force. “Stop being a fucking negative bitch. If he didn’t tell you he loved you, that would have been a problem. Now that he has, he has an ulterior motive.” She throws her hands up in disgust. “Will you two come back to Earth?” She gets up. “We have to get back.” She storms out, and Aaron and I watch her cross the street.
“She needs a good deep dicking,” Aaron mutters. “She’s in full bitch mode.”
I giggle as I watch her walk into the building. “You could be right.”
I stare at my reflection in the mirror and exhale heavily. I turn and check my behind. I’m wearing a gold Chanel dress that Jameson picked off the rack yesterday. My long dark hair is set into large curls and pinned behind one ear, and my makeup is glamorous with glossy red lips.
I’m nervous as all hell. This is the first time I’ve ever been anywhere formal with him as his date . . . and of course, his whole family is going to be there to witness it.
Just don’t spill anything on your dress or drink too much champagne and be embarrassing, I remind myself.
God, I couldn’t cope.
The worst thing is, because I’m so nervous, I want to power drink.
“Are you nearly ready, my fuck bunny?” Jameson calls. He appears around the door and gives me a slow, sexy smile as his eyes drop down the length of my body. “Jesus, you look beautiful.”
I brush my hands nervously over my thighs. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect.” He takes me in his arms and kisses my cheek. “I don’t like those red lips, though.”
“Oh.” My face falls.
“I can’t kiss you without wearing the evidence.”
I smile as he holds me. Something has changed between us again today.
Another day, another dynamic.
I feel so close to him. Something about all that honesty yesterday tore down my defenses against him. Molly is completely right, and I am looking for the negative in this, but I can’t help it; I fear my heart may be in dire danger.
If he leaves me . . . how would I cope?
I’ve been hurt before, and although I know that Jameson is in a completely different league than my past relationships, the prospect is terrifying.
This one will hurt . . . deeply.
He’s wearing a black tuxedo and a bow tie; his eyes are a brilliant blue, and his dark hair frames his beautiful face.
I’ve never had a man terrify me the way that Jameson Miles does. He’s everything I never knew I needed.
He takes my hand in his. “Do you have everything?”
“Uh-huh.” I put my hand over my heart to try to will it to slow down.
“What’s wrong?” he says softly.
“I’m nervous.”
He smiles sexily. “You’ll be fine.”
“Don’t let me drink too much, okay?”
“Okay.” He smirks as we walk to the door.
“And if you see me drinking too much, take my glass from me.”
He frowns.
“Honestly, Jay, I go from a level four to a ten in two mouthfuls.”
He smirks and then, thinking on that statement further, throws his head back and laughs out loud. “Not a truer word has ever been spoken.”
I drop my mouth open in fake horror. “I’m not talking about head, Jameson.”
“I am.” He kisses my hand. “And for the record, you went from a ten to a twenty.”
I smirk, and he bends and kisses my neck and then my shoulder and then my breast through my dress.
“The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave.” He runs his hand down my behind and gives me a sharp slap.
Half an hour later, the limo pulls into the parking bay, and I look around at all the beautiful people in black tie. As my nerves begin to kick me hard, Jameson picks up my hand and kisses the back of it, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
What will I say to his mother? His father? Oh hell . . . why did I come?
Alan opens the door, and Jameson climbs out and then takes my hand and helps me. His hand tenderly goes to my lower back. “Thank you,” he says to Alan.
“Thank you.” I smile.
Jameson takes my hand, and we walk up toward the large front doors. A few people do a double take as they see us, and people are staring. I hold my breath as he leads me through the crowd. “Hello, Jameson,” someone says.
He nods politely but doesn’t stop to chat. We walk in through the double doors, and he leads me straight to a table up at the front. It’s round with a white linen tablecloth and silver cutlery all lined up, and beautiful white flowers and candles sit in the center.
Crap, what’s the eating order of the cutlery? I need to go to the bathroom and google this shit. Jameson’s father is sitting at the table along with an older woman. She has dark hair that sits in a perfect bob. She’s very attractive and wearing a glamorous black evening dress with long sleeves.
“Mom, Dad, this is Emily.” He presents me proudly. “These are my parents, Elizabeth and George.”
“Hello, dear.” His mother stands and kisses both my cheeks and holds me at arm’s length as she inspects me. “Well, aren’t you something special.” She smiles warmly.
Oh, she’s nice. I smile awkwardly, and his father pulls me from his mother and kisses my cheek. “Hello, Emily. I didn’t get a chance to talk with you properly the other day. Lovely to meet you.”
“Yes, you too,” I whisper.
Jameson pulls out my chair, and I sit down as my heart races in my chest. I can feel my face flushing, and I silently die a little. Don’t go red now, stupid. I get an image of a beetroot face sitting next to Mr. Gorgeous here. Jameson pours me a glass of champagne and passes it over.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I take it from him. My eyes hold his in a silent “help me” signal.
He gives me a sexy wink and slings his arm around the back of my chair. “Where’s Tris?” he asks casually as he looks around the room.
“On his way,” his father replies.
I look around at all the people filling the ballroom. The who’s who are here—not that I remember any of their names. I’m only going on what Molly and Aaron prepped me with today. Two of the managers I’ve seen upstairs on the top floor arrive with their dates. “Hello.” They all shake hands, and then the men frown when they see me.
“Have you met Emily, my girlfriend?” Jameson asks them.
“Oh yes.” They smile in an over-the-top way. “Hello, Emily,” the four of them splutter before shaking my hand and sitting down at our table.
Jameson sits next to me, and his father is on the other side of him, then his mother, then the other four. Two seats are to my left—must be for Tristan.
“Hello,” Tristan says happily from behind me. I turn and see that the blonde woman is with him.
“Hello,” everyone calls.
“Emily, this is Melina,” Tristan introduces me.
“Hello.” I shake her hand.
“Hello.” She smiles as she takes a seat beside me and looks around the table. “I just couldn’t decide what to wear tonight. How is everyone?”
The table instantly falls into chatter.
She’s confident and beautiful, and she looks like a high-fashion model rather than a . . . what does she do again?
I glance over to see Jameson and his father subtly roll their eyes at each other. Hmm, what’s that about?
Tristan begins to talk to a man at the table next to us and laughs out loud. He really is very friendly.
Melina takes out her phone and pulls a duck mouth and takes a selfie. She leans toward me. “Get in,” she says. “I’ll tag you.”
I pull out of her grip and lean away. “No thank you.” I smile. “I don’t do social media.”
“What?” she gasps as she looks me up and down in disgust. “Why on earth not? What’s wrong with you?”
Okay . . . this woman’s a rude pig.
“I don’t like social media, that’s all.” I shrug.
“What’s not to like?” She keeps taking her own photo.
I stare at her deadpan. “A misrepresentation of society with unrealistic images that portray a fake lifestyle with impossible ideals,” I reply as I sip my wine. Don’t piss me off, bitch.
Jameson smirks as he stares straight ahead. His finger circles on my bare shoulder.
“Oh God.” She rolls her eyes and takes another selfie.
I glance over, and Jameson’s mother smirks and winks at me.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. God, cut out the snarky bitch act, Emily, I remind myself. Just be nice for once.
Jameson and his father fall into conversation, and I sit quietly. The waiter comes over and goes to refill my glass. “No thank you.” I smile.
Melina talks to the other people at the table; she’s laughing loudly and loves attention. She’s not at all the type of woman I thought Tristan would go for.
“Emily, you must come and visit us in the Hamptons,” Jameson’s mother says.
“Thank you.” I smile. “That would be lovely.” I should try to make conversation. “Do you go on weekends?” I ask.
“We live there mostly now,” she says. “We still have our apartments here, of course, but the change of pace is lovely.”
“Oh.” I smile. How many apartments do they have here? Jeez, they really are from a different world. “Sounds great.”
“Jameson said you are from California?” she asks.
“Yes.” I fake a smile. He told them about me? “I’ve only been here a month.”
“And what do you think of New York?”
“I love it.” I smile. “It’s amazing.”
Jameson’s hand sits on my shoulder for moral support while he talks to his father.
“Jameson told us that you met each other more than twelve months ago,” Elizabeth continues.
“Yes.” I fake a smile. Oh dear God. What did he tell them about how we met? Please don’t let it be the truth, that we sat next to each other on a boozy flight and flirted like sex-starved fools and then had wild layover sex for twelve hours while I tried to suck every last drop of blood from his neck. I pick up my wine and tip my head back and kick Jameson’s foot.
Help me, fucker.
He smiles as if he already knows what’s going on in my head.
Tristan finally takes a seat, and Melina leans over and kisses him. “Let’s go mingle.”
He frowns as he takes his first sip of scotch. “No, babe. I’m staying here. Knock yourself out.”
Melina waves at a woman on the other side of the room and stands. “Back in a moment.” She smiles to the table as she practically runs to the woman and air kisses her two cheeks. “Darling,” she cries, and they fake gush over each other.
My eyes find Jameson’s, and he rolls his lips in amusement. It’s as if he can read my mind.
She’s a twit.
Jameson’s jaw tilts skyward, and his tongue runs across his teeth as if he’s angered. I follow his line of sight and see a group of men and women arriving at a table across from us. My eyes flick to his father and mother as they look on as well.
“Who are they?” I whisper.
“The Ferrara family.”
I frown in question.
“They own the Gazette and Ferrara Media.”
My eyes widen. “Oh.” I go back to watching them as they all sit around the table. Three sons and a mother and father, Italian by the looks of it. Gorgeous-looking people . . . all dark hair and brown eyes. Only one son has a date; the other two are alone. The eldest son looks over and smiles when he sees us. He waves and dips his head. Jameson dips his head back in a polite but cold gesture.
“Who’s that?” I whisper.
“Gabriel Ferrara,” Jameson replies as he sips his drink. Contempt drips from his every pore. “The CEO.”
My eyes widen. I can tell that there is no love lost between the two families.
CEO versus CEO.
“Emily?” a woman’s voice gasps from behind us.
We all turn to see a woman. I know her. “Athena.” I laugh as I stand. Athena is in her sixties and a woman of the world. I adore her.
“Oh my God,” she gasps as she pulls me into an embrace. “Jameson Miles, how on earth do you know Emily Foster?”
He chuckles.
“Emily has been my intern every college holiday for three years.” Athena laughs.
George looks on as if impressed.
“She wouldn’t move here for my company.” She smiles as she rubs my arm.
“What do you mean?” George asks.
“Best damn reporter I ever had,” Athena replies. “I’ve offered her a job every year, but she always turned me down, stating that Miles Media would be the only reason she would move to New York.”
I smile awkwardly. Please shut up. I’m trying to play it cool here.
“Is that so?” George smiles over at me. “Well, she’s found her place at Miles Media.”
Athena looks down at Jameson’s hand as it rests on my lap. “I can see that.” She smiles down at me. “Emily, come, I have someone I want you to meet.” She glances at Jameson. “Can I steal her for a moment, please?”
“Of course.” He kisses my hand before he lets me go. His eyes linger on my face, and I smile softly.
This man is just so . . .
Athena pulls me over to the other side of the room. “Oh my God,” she splutters as we weave between the tables. “You’re dating Jameson Miles.”
“Yes.” I laugh.
“He’s the most delicious man on the planet.” She turns back and smiles at me. “And the crankiest.” I giggle as she drags me to the bar to a group of women and men who are all standing around. “Lauren, look who’s here! Emily Foster.”
“Oh my God.” Lauren laughs as she hugs me. Lauren and I were interns together in our second year. Lauren went on to work with them. “What are you doing here?” She smiles excitedly.
“I’ve moved to New York now. I work for Miles Media.”
“Really?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
“Oh my God, we have to catch up.”
“Yes.” It would be so nice to have a friend here that I don’t work with. “Make sure we get each other’s numbers.”
I glance around, and everyone has a drink. “I’m just going to get another champagne.”
Someone grabs my elbow from behind, and I turn. I’m taken aback. It’s the tall Italian man, the CEO of the Gazette.
“Hello.” He smiles sexily down at me.
“Hi.”
“Who are you?” he asks.
I frown, and my eyes flick back to my table. Jameson is talking to Tristan. “Emily,” I reply nervously.
He picks up my hand and kisses the back of it. “My name is Gabriel Ferrara.”
“Oh.”
“And I like to take over all things owned by Jameson Miles.”
My eyes widen.
His dark eyes drop to my lips. “Women included.”
