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Admit You Want Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Irresistible Billionaires Book 3)

Page 9

by Ajme Williams


  Being used to a certain lifestyle, she definitely dated a certain class of men. Needless to say, I belonged to the class. If not through birth and upbringing, then through current net worth. Our upbringings had been completely opposite, but I could say with confidence that I could afford her. Fancy dinners, exotic vacations, and six-figure shopping sprees, I could cover if it ever came to that. The thing was, the kind of men she was into were likely like her. High maintenance, stuck up, didn’t know how to change a lightbulb much less a tire. Probably had hands that felt like spun silk from never doing a day of work in their lives. That might have been the case, but she wasn’t complaining earlier today.

  I kept looking through the search results. The headline, Artemis James, London It-Girl Flames Former Lover on social media caught my attention. I clicked on it and read through the article. Sparks flew on the Internet a day ago when socialite Artemis James exposed her ex for cheating on her. The heated Instagram posts come just weeks after the bombshell revealed her lover to the public.

  I wrinkled my nose and clicked out. I didn’t really want to read about what some tabloid rags had to say about her. I went back to the search bar and added the word boyfriend. That brought up a whole new crop of articles and images. I looked through the pictures of her with various men. They all looked like the type I thought she would be into, guys in suits with expensive haircuts and watches that could buy you an apartment in some of the neighborhoods in this city.

  So what? None of these guys were in her life anymore. What made you think that she wanted you though? Now that I had seen the kind of guys that she associated herself with, why would she even allow herself to be photographed with me? She had told me a few hours ago that having sex had been a mistake. Did she need to spell it out clearer than that?

  I had seen enough. I closed the search engine and dropped my phone. I didn’t have to ask her to get an answer, I knew it already. There were men like the ones she had dated, and then there were men like me. The only thing we had in common was that we were all men. They were the ones that she appeared in public with, and I was the mistake that she fucked behind the scenes one time and immediately regretted. I was the one she would lie about fucking if anyone ever asked her, and not just because of our client-stylist relationship. There was no way to get around it. We were too different. She could never stoop down to my level and I could never get high enough to be on hers.

  It was decided then. We, whatever we had had for however long, were done.

  12

  Artemis

  “Missy… Missy?”

  I looked up from my fingernails tapping the table in front of us. Maggie was looking at me quizzically. I froze for a second wondering whether she had asked me something and I had completely zoned out on her.

  “What? Sorry, I just blanked for a second.”

  “That's okay. I didn't say anything.” On the table was a spread of open magazines. I might have been the only person on Earth who still bought fashion magazines but I was a collector. Shoes, bags, clothes, and magazines; those were my kryptonite. I thought of it as my way of supporting journalism. I always loved magazines. The pictures just looked better on the glossy pages than on a backlit screen. They were relevant to my industry anyway. I like to look up trends and match them to clients. Maggie was helping me.

  I had said goodbye to my last assistant, giving her a generous severance package, far more generous than she deserved and I wasn't even sure assistants got severance packages, but I was worried about how easily she would be able to get another job. For all her flaws, she did enjoy fashion. Maggie on the other hand knew nothing about fashion. She was a champion at administration, only left me the most professionally drafted text messages and emails, and she knew accounting which meant she was taking on two roles rather than just one. She had quoted me her desired salary and it was way too low for the value she was giving me. I had thrown in two thousand extra dollars on top because she was literally a lifesaver. Fashion, however, not really her strong suit.

  Not the industry and business side of it, at least. She dressed well and knew basically how to style outfits and match colors. She was curvy, with generous breasts and she always dressed to compliment her figure. Today she was in an A-line dress underneath a leather jacket. I felt that dressing yourself and being able to dress other people were two different skills though.

  “Should we get back to work?” I asked, looking down at the magazines like I wasn’t the one who had just been daydreaming. I grabbed one and purposefully flipped through it. We were going into autumn, and stripes were supposedly making a comeback.

  “Missy?” I looked up again at Maggie.

  “Yes? What's the matter?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I realize this may not be the most professional way to engage with my boss, but I think it's pretty clear that something is bothering you.”

  I flipped the page in the magazine like it had done something to me. Something was bothering me, yes, did I want to discuss it? Yes, to be honest.

  I hadn’t said anything to anybody yet about what happened with Easton. Neither Brenna nor Eddy knew, and I wasn't sure that I was going to tell them yet. It would probably come out sooner or later, but I had barely processed it myself. Certain things were harder to say out loud than others. In addition to that my emotions over it were a mess.

  There was regret, that was the main emotion. I knew that I shouldn't have done it and I wished that I hadn't. We had passed the rubicon already and I felt like there was no going back. We could never truly go back to the way we were now that things had changed in this way between us.

  What did that mean when it came to working together?

  We were working together, that was the whole reason why we were even in each other's lives. It was my first time trying to do this career thing and what had I done? I slept with one of my clients.

  The other big emotion was shame. What I had done was wrong. There was no way around it. I was not supposed to do this with clients, but I had. I had come to New York for a fresh start and all I had managed to do was make yet another bad romantic decision.

  I knew that Eddy and Brenna wouldn't necessarily judge me for what I had done, but I didn't need them to. I was already judging myself.

  Talking about it would rehash all the emotions that I was trying to get over but maybe it would help me sort through them. I was stuck.

  “You're right, it isn't the most professional thing you could ask your boss,” I said. I kept flipping through the magazine.

  “I'm sorry for bringing it up but it just seems to be weighing heavily on your mind. I was just thinking that you would feel better if you talked it out. With all due respect, we've been staring at these magazines for twenty minutes now and nothing has happened.”

  I closed the magazine in my hands. She was right. We were at my house. I was renting a townhouse not far from Brenna and Eddy's places. Office space would be a waste of money since most of what I did happened out of the client's homes and various clothing shops. The magazines were strewn across the dining room table where I liked to have meetings. Calling Maggie for a meeting this morning, I never expected it to turn into an intervention. Part of me was very glad that she had asked though. I looked up at her.

  “You're right. I'm sorry for making you come here when I was in this kind of headspace.”

  “No problem. So, do you want to talk about it at all?”

  I took a deep breath. She was my employee, so she wasn't allowed to judge me. That was how it worked, right?

  “Okay but you have to promise not to judge me.”

  “What did you do?”

  She hadn't promised not to judge me, but I was already on a roll, so I just kept talking.

  “I slept with one of my clients.” Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything immediately. She seemed to take a minute to measure her response.

  “Which client was it?”

  “M
y latest client. My first male client. His name is Easton Schultz. He's this tech guy. Billionaire off of some drones or something.”

  “He sounds... interesting?”

  “He's a thorn in my side. I absolutely cannot stand him.”

  “Then how did you manage to... you know?”

  “It's like this, I'm wildly attracted to him, I want to climb him like a tree when I see him but he's unbearable. First of all, his fashion sense is something out of a nightmare but then I actually got to know him, and his personality is even worse. Absolute prick. Mean and moody, complete knobhead.”

  “That’s an unusual problem to have. Wait, what did you say his name was?” she asked, taking her phone out.

  “Easton Shultz,” I repeated. I knew she had found his picture when she frowned then looked at me.

  “That guy?”

  “I know? Can you believe it? Totally off-brand for me and that’s really saying something.”

  “So, you slept with him. That’s not good obviously but I’m sure you can do something. Dropping him is an option.”

  It was but I had never thought about getting rid of him. I didn’t want to get rid of him necessarily. I liked him but then I didn’t. I didn’t want to see him again because can you imagine what that would be like, but then I did.

  “I could…”

  “But you won't,” she said.

  “I… I don’t know. I feel like I still have a job to do.”

  “Do you want things to go further with him?”

  “No,” I said. Yes.

  Ew, no!

  “How many times have you hooked up?”

  “Just once. I brought him to a suit maker to get him into some real clothes since he dresses like he belongs in a fraternity. We were in the dressing room together and one thing led to another.”

  “Is that it?”

  “No. We kissed in his apartment one time.”

  “Keep going,” she urged.

  “That’s it, I swear.”

  “Okay, okay. That’s not good obviously but he should understand why you can’t work together anymore when you tell him.”

  “It’s not even the fact that I can’t work with him anymore. I just can’t believe I was so weak. I have had a terrible history with men. I ran away from London because of it. I got a real job for the first time in my life because of it. Nice to see that coming to a totally new world didn’t fix that.”

  “Again, all due respect, but I’d hate to be you right now,” she said. Her reply was so unexpected that I laughed. I needed that laugh. I felt so much better afterward. “I mean, I would because look at this house but in terms of your dating life, no.”

  “I understand. No offense taken.”

  “I… do you want advice, or did you just want to vent?”

  “What do you have for me?” I asked.

  “Well, first of all, focusing on your career as a woman or as anyone is literally a no-lose situation. There is a reason why women in the fifties fought to be let out of the kitchen. When it comes to love, New York can be unforgiving. I’m in the same boat. Everyone here is a mercenary and you might be better off just growing your business. If you don’t want to drop this guy, just don’t be in private with him. Make it a public affair whenever you’re together so both of you behave. You’re gonna have to talk to him first though so you get on the same page.”

  “What do you think I was trying to do in the changing room?”

  “Okay, well that’s out of the way now. You got it out of your system. You don’t have to wonder what he’s like in bed anymore. You know.”

  “Yeah,” I said, not convinced. Maggie might have been able to tell.

  “How about I take care of everything that doesn’t necessarily need contact so face-to-face-time is minimal?”

  “That would help. Thank you,” I told her. I didn’t know which way was up anymore. Something was telling me to let it all go. It wasn’t worth trying to remain professional with Easton because look at what happened? I didn’t like him, but I did. I wasn’t supposed to but I did, even though he was a nightmare. Maybe doing this with him would test my resolve and finally fix me for real. The doorbell rang pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “I’ll get it,” Maggie said. I thanked her, pushing the magazines to the side. I didn’t think we were going to get much done today. I heard a baby crying from the door. Brenna? Eddy? I heard a flurry of footsteps then Riley’s red head appeared.

  “Aunty Missy!” he squealed, flying around the table to hug me. Eddy, Brenna, the baby and Maggie followed soon after, all laden with takeaway bags from Cotton, a French restaurant in Soho. I jumped up to help them with their bags.

  “How did you guys know I was starving?” I asked. Brenna knew Maggie already, but she and Eddy were introduced.

  “We thought we would come by with reinforcements. Do you mind if I stick Riley in front of the TV?” Eddy asked. I said it was no problem. She went to take him to the living room and the three of us settled around the table as I unearthed plates and glasses.

  “Everything smells divine,” I remarked. Eddy came back and we tucked in. I sunk my teeth into a tender duck breast while the girls chatted.

  “What were you doing before we showed up?” Brenna asked. Maggie shot me a look. Might as well say it since she knew. I knew Brenna was going to eat it up.

  “I… something happened at work,” I said.

  “What?” Eddy asked. Brenna bounced her baby on her knee who was occupied by a madeleine disintegrating in her hand. I looked over at Maggie again.

  “She slept with a client,” she blurted out. Brenna, just as I thought, burst out laughing. Eddy’s eyes almost fell out of her head.

  “You did what?” Eddy demanded. Maggie was laughing too at that point. I was glad that she had set it so that I didn’t have to. It was making this part, getting into all the dirty details, a lot easier.

  “You heard her. Slept with one of my clients.”

  “I didn’t know you had any interest in women,” Brenna remarked.

  “Not a woman. A man. For some reason, I feel like I would feel as bad if it was a woman.”

  “Well, you know what, you have to tell us now,” Brenna said leaning forward. “What was he like?” Everyone laughed again. I was glad they were taking it like this and not lecturing me, even though a lecture was what I deserved.

  “Well, you know. It was maybe the hottest encounter in my life which is the problem.” More laughter.

  “Don’t tell me you're sticking to this guy. Don’t do it again please, that’s what I’m trying to say,” Eddy said. “Unless you want to. That would be so messy though. Fire yourself first and then do it again.”

  “I don’t want to quit, he’s my first male client,” I said. And I didn’t hate him as much as I should have by this point.

  “Don’t sleep with him again,” Brenna said.

  “Okay.”

  “We’re serious,” Eddy said, laughing.

  “I don’t mean to play devil's advocate here, but what if he’s the one?” Maggie threw in.

  “Christ, I would never be caught dead with a man who can’t dress,” I said.

  “Well, you said he couldn’t dress but you’ve slept with him and you haven’t told us how that was yet.” Brenna was just egging me on.

  “I know that is not the right thing to do. I’m a professional these days, that means I can’t just sleep with whoever I want.”

  “Just pick a guy you don’t work with. New York is rotten with single man who know how to dress,” Brenna said, cleaning her baby’s face. She was right about that. Why was I so interested in the one who didn’t shave, hadn’t had a haircut in what seemed like months, and would embarrass me every time we went out together?

  There was no question there, of course, the thing between Easton and I, if you could even call it a thing, was over.

  I was his stylist and nothing more. Sooner or later, this would be over, and I would never have to see him again.

&
nbsp; 13

  Easton

  What did you say to the woman you hooked up with who told you after the said hook up, that you were a mistake? I had about five minutes to figure out. Missy’s assistant had sent me a message to show up at a spa in the city. Apparently, it was for the grooming part of our exercise. I knew what I looked like. I was a handsome guy. I had never had a short haircut or a clean-shaven face since I was back in the army. I knew that was what she wanted to do to me. Turn me into some sort of corporate clone that she and Toby could approve of.

  I had to remind myself why I was doing this again. After our last encounter, she was the last person that I wanted to spend any time with. I didn’t expect her to contact me directly to tell me about this appointment, but the message was sent by her assistant which for some reason stung a little bit. I knew it was because she wanted to put some distance between us, that must’ve been it. Talking to her assistant and not her was the point, it was the motive behind it.

  And the motive behind participating in this ridiculous exercise was to make sure that my company stood the test of time. In the unusual case that it did fail, I didn’t want the reason to be me. We pulled up to the spa and I jumped out. All we were doing here was a haircut and maybe shaving my beard off, how long could that possibly take? Along with the fact that Missy didn’t want to spend that much time around me, I would be in and out of this place in like an hour, tops.

  I walked in and looked around. It was all white and powder blue and there was some annoying music playing. In the waiting area were some white couches that looked like they weren’t supposed to be sat on.

 

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