“Because you’re gorgeous,” Beth says.
“And wicked smart,” Mae adds.
“I’m not a size two though. Doesn’t he seem like the kind of guy who would be with a girl who could walk the catwalk?”
Mae contemplates it. Beth doesn’t count because she’s my sister, but Mae will tell me the truth. “No one has ever seen him with a woman, so who knows? I think what you should be asking yourself is whether he’s worth losing your job for.”
Suddenly our lighthearted conversation turns serious, and my biggest insecurities rise up to the surface. Quietly, I say, “I’ve been used before. In college, there was a guy who acted like he liked me just to coerce me into writing his paper for him.”
“Forget that jackass Heath. He was an asshole,” Mae says. “He was a selfish prick.”
“That’s terrible, Annie, but you have to let that go,” my sister says.
I helped Enzo get the campaign that will get him partner. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that he’d sleep with me to get ideas to benefit himself. Keep me happy and content, distract me, and bam, he’s partner, and I’m out on my ass.
It’s possible, I guess, but just thinking it feels a little ridiculous.
“Listen.” Mae comes to sit beside me on the couch and places her hand on my thigh. “You’re so smart and this?” She points at my stomach. “Your gut is going to lead you in the right direction. What’s it telling you right now?”
“It tells me that Enzo Mancini is a god in bed.”
They laugh, nodding.
“What about his intentions?” Mae asks.
I chew on my lip, thinking it over. Everything between us over the past month has been eye-opening. I never thought he’d be the person I’ve come to know.
My phone rings on the table, and Mae grabs it. Her eyes shift to Beth before she hands it to me. Lorenzo Mancini flashes on the screen as it vibrates and rings in my hand.
He’s never called me, and I wonder if it has something to do with the almost kiss earlier.
“Answer it.” Mae nudges me.
I slide my thumb over the screen and bring it to my ear. “Hey.”
“Hi, Annie. I’m sorry to bother you, but I just got a call from Blair Peterson, and they want us in Houston tomorrow to talk with the director of the commercial. We get the company jet since it’s Coddle, so I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow morning and we’ll head to the airport.”
My stomach sinks. “Are we flying back tomorrow?”
“Yeah, no need to pack anything. We’ll be in late, but we’re not staying.”
Phew. I release a breath.
Mae and Beth share a look.
“Great. Okay, but I can meet you at the airport.”
He’s silent for a moment. “No. I’ll pick you up.”
“It’s out of your way,” I argue.
“I want to, okay? The car will be there at nine.”
He hangs up, and I stare at the phone. I shouldn’t be surprised. He never says goodbye. I fall back into the couch.
Mae squeezes my shoulder. “What was that about?”
“I have to go to Houston with him tomorrow.” I pick up the pillow and put it over my head.
“Sex in Houston sounds like as good a place as any.” Mae laughs, and Beth does too.
I throw the pillow at Mae, but she stands, holding the pillow up to her face.
“I can’t fight it anymore, Enzo,” she says in a seductive voice.
“Me either, Annie. Let me make sweet love to you for hours,” Mae says in a deep voice.
“No. No, Enzo, I’ll gladly blow you.”
She faces one direction then the next as if she’s actually two people.
“I can’t wait to eat you out for the whole night. It’s my favorite thing in the world to do.”
Beth puts a stop to it, throwing a dirty burp cloth at her. “Okay, my kid is in the room.”
Mae sinks into the couch, her own laughter entertaining her. Then she turns and looks me square in the eye. “I expect details and none of that I-don’t-kiss-and-tell shit.”
I say nothing because it sounds easy. A quick trip to Houston and back. But nothing has been easy since Enzo came into my life, especially pretending I don’t want him as my own.
Chapter 18
Enzo
* * *
We sit around the table in Houston. Blair Peterson obviously runs the show here, and I wonder why that information was never given to me when Coddle came looking for a new ad agency. Mr. Jacobson told me my point of contact was Mr. Peterson, and I felt like a fucking fool after the first pitch when I ignored Blair. She hasn’t held it against me, but she definitely favors Annie.
“Why don’t the two of you do the skit?” Blair waves her finger between us, laughing.
I chuckle. “I think the tape will do the trick.”
“Yeah, I was just kidding. I’m sure you guys are eager to get back to New York.” The meeting has been quick and easy, and really, the director could’ve gotten all the information over the phone, but when a client makes a request, we do as they ask. “Enzo, do you mind if I borrow Annie for a few minutes?”
Interesting.
I plaster on a smile. “Not at all. I have a few calls to return.”
“Great, we’ll be right back. Let’s go to my office, Annie.” Blair opens the door of the conference room.
Annie shoots me a look as though I’m letting them lead her to the dungeon. She’s still a little green when meeting with clients, but she has good instincts and even better ideas. As she grows in this business, she’ll become more comfortable with clients. She’s way too talented not to.
It could be my dick talking, but she’s a hidden gem at Jacobson and Earl. If she hadn’t had to cover my assistant’s desk that day, would she have stayed hidden?
The fact that I might be working for a misogynist sits in the back of my mind, but it’s hard to accept that as truth. Have I really been that blind all these years? Ever since Annie Stewart walked into my office, I feel as if all the signs that she’s right are shining in big neon lights.
Fuck, am I a misogynist? I gave my assistants my dry cleaning. Was that demeaning?
My ma raised me to respect women, sure, but do I think of them equally? I like to think I do, but do my actions really represent that?
“Hey.” Annie appears in the doorway. “Blair says bye. We’re good to go.”
I slide out from the table and stuff my phone into my pocket, grabbing my computer bag. “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”
She looks down and shakes her head.
“Is it about the campaign?”
“Um…” She looks me in the eye. “No.”
What did Blair want from her then?
Annie turns, and we head toward the elevators. Coddle owns the entire building and the factory next door. I turn over theories and ideas as to why Blair wanted to see Annie until we’re in the elevator, then boom, I piece it all together.
“She offered you a job.” I don’t ask, I state it as fact. It’s the only logical reason why she wouldn’t include me in the meeting. Am I always this distracted when Annie’s near?
She straightens her back. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t want to talk about it? What kind of job did she offer?”
She glances at me with a hint of fear in her eyes, so I hold back my temper. It’s not her fault she was offered a position. It’s Blair’s for trying to steal one of Jacobson’s best employees.
“Let it go. I declined,” she whispers.
The elevator heads to the bottom floor and ends with a stomach-dropping stop.
She’s out before I can say anything more.
We give our badges back to security and slide into the waiting car.
Thanks for arranging our ride right before you tried to underhandedly steal our employee, Blair.
“Airport,” I snap at the driver. I push the button for the partition and turn my atte
ntion to Annie. “Talk.”
She grants me a fleeting look. “No. It has nothing to do with my job at Jacobson and Earl. I don’t have to share the details with you.”
She’s right, but I thought we’d developed a friendship, or at the very least a coworker relationship, since we started working together.
“Please, Enzo, don’t tell anyone.” Her eyes prick with wetness before she stares out the window.
That “Please, Enzo” doesn’t have the same effect it did weeks ago. This time, I want to murder whoever is making her upset.
Why is she crying after being offered a job? Crap, is it me? I’m so out of my wheelhouse right now.
“I won’t.”
Silence descends over us and stays as we get out of the limo, walk up the stairway to the Jacobson and Earl jet. We situate ourselves across from one another. The flight attendant asks us if we’d like a drink. Annie kindly declines, and I order a scotch neat. A half hour later, we’re up in the air and Annie’s head rests on her seat as she stares out the window.
I desperately want to tell her to talk to me. Tell me why she declined. Was it a crappy offer? Why is she so upset about it? Why is she closing me out, and where is the free-spirited girl from Central Park? The girl I almost kissed because she made me forget myself. Instead, I drink my scotch and return emails, sneaking a peek at her once in a while.
Mid-flight, the attendant comes over, picks up my glass, and asks if I’d like another. I decline, and as she walks back to the hidden bar, the plane dips and she loses her balance. The glass falls from her hand, shattering on the floor.
I unclip my seatbelt to help her get up and pick up the shards of glass. Annie moves to unclip hers too, but the flight attendant puts up her hand for Annie to stop and instructs me to go back to my seat.
There’s a beeping sound coming from the phone outside the cockpit.
I ignore the flight attendant’s warning because I can handle myself. If she falls on this glass, it’s bad for all of us.
She answers the phone and I hear it in her voice. Something’s not right.
I deposit the shards of glass in the garbage. On my way to pick up more, the plane tips to one side, and I knock my head on the corner of the restroom wall, knocking me on my ass.
“Enzo!” Annie screeches and rushes over to me. She touches my forehead. “You’re bleeding.” Her fingers are coated with bright red blood.
“Here.” The flight attendant hands her some tissues.
“Are you okay?” she asks, staring into my eyes.
Annie’s mouth keeps moving, but I can’t hear her. The flight attendant nudges our shoulders to get us up. Annie stands, holding out her hand for me, and I follow, but all I can really see is her eyes. The pure soul that lives inside her. No wonder Blair wanted her. Who wouldn’t?
We sit down, and Annie continues to hold tissues to my forehead after we strap in.
“We’re making an emergency landing,” the flight attendant says and steps over the glass to her seat on the other side of the wall from us.
Annie’s eyes cloud with worry. If I could form a coherent thought, I’d tell her it’s all going to be okay, but my mind is a jumbled mess. The only consistent thought running through my head is how does Annie taste? Why am I willing to ignore the fact that I feel something for a woman for the first time in years? Maybe even ever. She intrigues me, and I know she likes me. At least the way I look. She might still think I’m a prick. No, she said in Central Park she thought I was great.
Without weighing any more shit in my head, my hand covers hers where it’s pressing the tissue to my head and I lean forward, my lips hovering over hers.
“What are you doing?” she asks softly.
“Giving us what we both want.”
Our lips meet, and it’s like nothing I’ll ever forget. My stomach dips, my lips tingle, and when she’s the one to slide her tongue along the seam of my lips, my dick twitches. I want to unbuckle both of us, drag her into my lap, and kiss her until I’m a breath away from dying.
My hand slides to the back of her head and I deepen our kiss, my tongue seeking hers. Not knowing if she’s going to knee me in the balls or not after this, I take the opportunity to do what I’ve been thinking about for weeks. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, scraping my teeth against her flesh. Her strangled moan makes me do it a second time. She wraps her hand around my stretched arm, clinging and holding onto it as though she’d protest if I tried to stop the kiss.
The tires of the plane hit the runway, and the plane bounces up and back down. I slow our kiss when I realize we’re on the ground.
I just lost control of myself.
We move back a bit and stare into one another’s eyes. She blinks then releases my arm and sits back in her seat, so pale it looks as if she’s seconds from throwing up.
Perfect. Just the reaction a guy wants.
Chapter 19
Annie
* * *
The plane lands, and I look out the window to find we’re surrounded by cornfields.
“Where are we?” I ask the attendant.
Enzo unclips his belt, stands but sits back down, holding his head.
“Please sit down, Mr. Mancini, until the pilot says it’s okay.” The flight attendant stands. “I was told we were landing in Akron.”
“Akron?” Enzo says as though it’s a foreign city.
“You know, the rubber city,” I say.
“Rubber what?”
His sharp tone is not appreciated. He just kissed me so thoroughly, I almost passed out. Out of nowhere, he placed those lips on me, and stupid me, I kissed him back. I’m such an idiot. He thought we were dying, so of course he grabbed the first willing female.
“Tires. Goodyear, Bridgestone…”
He nods with an expression that says, “just be quiet.”
“We’re going to get you to a medical professional, sir.” The flight attendant heads to the front of the cabin and picks up the phone.
“No need. I’m good.”
“You’re clearly not,” I say.
“I am.”
Sure, because he kisses me every day as if he needs me more than air. The man is one hundred percent perfect.
“Whatever.” I cross my arms.
“What’s with the attitude?”
“Nothing. I just want to be home.”
“Believe me, so do I,” he says with a sneer, as though he wants to be on the other side of the country from me.
It’s not my fault we didn’t die, and we can’t ignore the fact that he kissed me.
I’m giving us what we both want. His words right before the kiss register and tingles explode between my legs. My fingers touch my lips as though I imagined the whole thing.
The plane stops, and the pilot emerges from the cockpit. Thank God, get me on the next plane out of here.
“Sorry about this. We had some technical problems mid-flight. The airport has assured me their best mechanic will be on it first thing in the morning.”
“First thing in the morning? Unacceptable,” Enzo says.
I turn toward Enzo, wondering where this old version of him emerged from. The one who treats people as if they don’t matter.
“Unfortunately, this isn’t a major airport, so it is what it is. I have a car on the way to get you, but Nancy told me you hit your head, so we have a doctor coming out before you head to the hotel for the night.”
Hotel? I don’t even have a toothbrush, let alone anything to sleep in or take off my makeup with. And no clean clothes for tomorrow. The sun is quickly descending, but I should have time to shop somewhere. I’ll make certain of it.
“Just sit tight and we’ll get this handled as quickly as possible. I can call you in the morning when we’re good to go.” The pilot nods and disappears back into the cockpit. He’s probably used to egomaniacs like Lorenzo Mancini and figures he’s going to get out of Dodge before he blows his top.
“Drink?” the flight attendant asks with a
smile.
“Sit and relax. No one needs a drink,” I say.
“I’ll take another scotch,” Enzo says right after I finish speaking.
She moves to stand.
“Um, no. You’re not drinking.”
I’ve seen scathing looks before, many from Enzo himself, but nothing compares to what’s directed my way right now. I’m waiting for little bullets to come pummeling out of his eyes.
“You have a head wound,” I state.
He rolls his eyes and faces out the window. Ha. He knows I’m right.
We wait in brewing silence for another twenty minutes before a man with a medical kit comes on the plane.
He smiles at Enzo. “Hi, I’m Dr. Redwood. You’re my patient, I assume.”
Enzo tightly smiles back then sulks some more. He should be happy. We’re one step closer to getting off this plane.
Dr. Redwood examines Enzo while Nancy and I wait. He stares into Enzo’s eyes with a flashlight, asking Enzo to do different movements with his eyes. Which he does, begrudgingly.
“I’m going to bandage your wound, but I see no need for stitches. I would, however, be on concussion alert. You could come down to the hospital and I can—”
“No,” Enzo cuts him off. “I’m good.”
The doctor looks at him then at me. “So, signs to look out for…”
He rattles off all the things, and all I can think is, “Why are you telling me this?” Then I clue in—he thinks I’m the woman in Enzo’s life. Sorry, doc.
“Keep him awake for a bit, then you need to wake him every few hours to make sure he’s all right. If he gets disoriented or starts talking gibberish, call an ambulance right away.” He stands, and I stare at him wide-eyed. “This was it?” He knocks the wall where Enzo hit his head. “Yeah, I’d bet my youngest that you have a mild concussion.”
“Thank you so much,” Nancy says, seeing him out.
Enzo doesn’t so much as thank him. Jerk.
I look out the window and see a black town car pull up. “Our ride is here. Let’s go.”
Enzo moves to stand then sits back down, his fist slamming into the arm of the seat. “Shit.”
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