Need you Now (Top Shelf Romance Book 2)

by Laurelin Paige

  What was he trying to do to me?

  I dared another glance in his direction. He was staring right at me this time. He didn’t even pretend to look away when I caught him, and then, somehow, I couldn’t look away either.

  Whatever he was trying to do to me, I was afraid it might already be done.

  When the meeting ended, I gathered my things in a hurry, intending to make a quick escape to my office.

  “Sabrina,” Weston called, detaining me.

  So much for my getaway plan.

  “Yeah?” I tugged on my hair, noting that Donovan had lingered to talk to someone as well.

  Oblivious to my distraction, Weston smiled proudly. “I wanted to let you know that Phoenix was particularly impressed with our marketing objectives. It was one of the main reasons we landed the account.”

  “I inherited a very qualified and talented team.” Just get through this. Just get through.

  “You did. I know you did.” He shifted his weight to his hip. “Tom Burns also let me know a few things.”

  My attention immediately tuned in on the name Weston had mentioned. Tom Burns had been the guy who’d seen me almost kiss Donovan. “Like what?”

  Weston started to say something but then glanced around the room and seemed to realize we weren’t alone. “We should talk about it privately. Meet you upstairs in my office in fifteen?”

  “Sure.” My heart was beating so hard I was surprised it wasn’t boring a hole through my chest. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  As soon as Weston left the conference room, I dropped my notebooks and my phone on the table and placed my palms down on the wood to brace myself. I took a deep breath. Then another.

  Then another.

  This wasn’t even really that big of a deal because there wasn’t anything going on with Donovan. The problem was in all the details—would I tell Weston the rest? That I’d slept with Donovan in college? That I’d been fixated on him then?

  That I was fixated on him now?

  Sensing I was already struggling, Donovan of course had to come bother me more. Leaning against the table, he said smoothly, “If you’re that worried about what a staff member might be saying about you, you’re probably engaging in behavior that you shouldn’t be engaging in.”

  I shot him a glare that I hoped held the weight of the angst I was feeling. “This is fun for you, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not the worst day I’ve had at the office.”

  His cavalier attitude only added to my misery. I’d been tense and nervous and wanting him for three days and when he finally approached me, it was just to make me feel worse?

  I couldn’t take it. Not right now, anyway.

  “Was that your goal all along?” I snapped. “Get employees talking about you and me so that I’d have a harder time with Weston?”

  “Are you feeling guilty about you and me?”

  “Jesus, you’re incredible.” I didn’t know how I continued to be dumbfounded by the things he said to me, but I did. “You think this is a game. Push me toward Weston, pull me away. Push but then put an obstacle in the way. Push but flirt with me at the same time so I don’t know what it is you really want.”

  “Don’t be silly. I want you and Weston to work out more than anyone.” He really was a good liar. Better than I was, I realized.

  But I wasn’t challenging him about this, not in the conference room, not when there were already rumors flying about the two of us, especially not when there wasn’t any reason to believe he’d ever be truly honest.

  I gathered my things off the table. “I’m sure you do want me with Weston. Because that will be another fun game when you tear us apart.”

  I spun on my heels, and without looking back, left Donovan behind.

  After a brief trip to the restroom to freshen up and calm down, I went back up to the executive floor. I dropped my things off in my office and headed to Weston’s.

  “He wanted to see me,” I said to Roxie as I walked up. Weston’s door was open and the glass was clear. I could see he was at his desk, typing something into his phone.

  “He’s in there. Go on in.” I’d just passed her desk when she added, “He’s in a mood though. I warn you.”

  “I heard that,” Weston said from his office.

  “You were meant to.” His assistant was no-nonsense, one of the things I liked best about her.

  Which meant if Roxie was warning me about Weston’s mood, that was a bad, bad sign.

  I walked in, rubbing my mother’s cross at my neck for good luck. “Hey, what’s up? Is there a problem?”

  “Not exactly.” He threw down his phone and heaved another sigh like he had when he’d been texting with Elizabeth during the meeting earlier. Then, as if on second thought, he opened a desk drawer and threw his phone inside instead.

  “Have a seat,” he said, brighter now that his cell was out of sight.

  I slunk down in one of the chairs facing him and willed my toe to stop tapping so nervously. “I’m here.”

  “You’re here.” He smiled. “Anyway. As I was saying downstairs, Tom Burns spoke to me yesterday, and he had some interesting things to say about you.”

  “Really? Like what?” I peered back at the office door. Weston hadn’t bothered to shut it. I should have closed it when I’d walked in. Now Roxie would hear everything.

  It was fine. I’d just lie. About everything I’d ever thought about Donovan. Even though I was a terrible liar.

  Weston stood up and circled around so he was standing right in front of me. He leaned back, half sitting on the desk behind him, but he was still looming above me, and I panicked and bolted to a standing position so I could feel like I was on an even playing field.

  “Whoa,” Weston said. “You okay?”

  “Yep. Just edgy today.” It was true enough for me to pull off. “Go on. Tom said…?”

  “That you stayed as late as anyone else, and that you provided some of the last minute additions to the project, such as the global message component. That was one of the selling points in the strategy.”

  Huh. There was nothing terrible or grumpy or embarrassing about that. I eased my weight onto my hip. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really. I wanted you to know your commitment to your team didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone seems to be responding really well to you. The staff likes you. Your team likes you, and I’m really glad you came.” He reached out and tugged the same piece of hair I was holding.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” My nerves were still jittery with adrenaline. I hadn’t expected to be complimented. I was flustered about it. “Was that everything?”

  “Yeah, that’s everything,” he chuckled.

  “Okay, then. Thank you again.” I started to leave and then remembered. “Oh, and congratulations on the account.”

  “Congratulations to both of us.” He raised his palm up in the air. I lifted mine up to give him a high five, and afterward, his hand lingered. As I pulled away to leave, he laced his fingers through mine, not letting go. “You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?”

  My insides dipped and swerved like when I was trying to avoid a deer that had just run in front of my car. It felt wrong to be holding his hand like this. Dishonest—not just because of his arrangement with Elizabeth—but also because of all the things going on in my head about someone else.

  But just then, Donovan walked into Weston’s office, and even though his reasons for being there might have had nothing to do with me, it sure felt awfully coincidental.

  And that made me feel awfully spiteful.

  “Uh, yeah. Of course,” I said to Weston, entwining my fingers in his.

  “Good. I’ll save you a seat.” He held my hand until I was out of reach. “Kincaid. Whatcha got for me? Budgets for the toothpaste campaigns, I’m hoping.”

  I brushed past Donovan as I left the room, letting my arm graze his, which sent sparks of electricity spinning through my body.

  But no matter how nice t
he dizzying sensation was, it couldn’t erase the shock of seeing a flicker of pain in his eyes when he caught sight of my hand in Weston’s.

  Chapter 17

  I thought about Donovan while I dressed for Red Farm later that night. He was definitely not who I wanted to get involved with. Today had proven that. He was confusing and cruel, and he was also right—I should be with Weston. Weston was safe and nice and decent.

  And if it hurt Donovan to see me with Weston, too bad. He’d made his bed. He could be jealous all he wanted. I’d even help him by dressing for the part. I wore my favorite pair of La Perla underwear, a matching sheer nude-colored bra and panty set—not that I planned on getting naked for anyone. They just made me feel sexier.

  The dress I chose had a split black skirt and a pale long-sleeved top in a style that made the dress look like it belonged in the office—if it weren’t for the plunging neckline and the way too short hemline. It would drive Donovan crazy.

  It wasn’t an outfit I’d wear alone with him, but we wouldn’t be alone. We’d be at an office party. With a ton of other people, including Weston. This was a night to have fun.

  To be sure I was all the way on board with the fun plan, I tossed back a shot of scotch before leaving my apartment. Then I threw on a jacket and headed out to catch a cab.

  The party had already started when I arrived at Red Farm, which was fine. I was the type who preferred being late to being early. I stepped out of the taxi and approached the front door of the restaurant.

  Before I could put my hand on the knob, however, Donovan appeared from the shadows. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me several feet to the side of the entrance.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes wide.

  “What?” I had barely caught my breath. I could feel the thrum of my pulse at my wrist underneath his hand, and I didn’t know if my heart was beating so fast because he’d startled me or because he was touching me. “I just got here.”

  “With Weston.” He tightened his grip, on the edge of discomfort. “What are you doing?” This time the question was slow, each word emphasized so as to be sure I would understand.

  And I did understand. Very clearly.

  “I cannot even believe you.” I was seething, my vision clouding in red. This was too much. I yanked my wrist away from him and turned toward the door.

  “You cannot be with him right now,” Donovan warned behind me.

  Pissed off, I turned back and pushed him, hard, both palms flat against his chest. Immediately, my body tingled as it remembered pushing him like that once before, years ago.

  “This is familiar,” Donovan said, his voice a low rumble.

  “Leave me alone.” Once again, I made for the door.

  “He’s engaged.”

  I spun around. “It’s a fake engagement that you pushed him into.”

  “He’s a grown-up,” Donovan spat back. “He can make his own decisions.”

  “That’s right.” I nodded. “He can. And so can I.”

  This time when I headed toward the entrance, I made it all the way inside without turning around.

  But once I was out of sight from the door, I stopped to catch my breath. I was shaking from adrenaline, and I had to hold on to the wall to steady myself.

  How dare he?

  How fucking dare he?

  That was all the time I allowed myself to recover. He could walk in at any minute, and I didn’t want him to think he’d affected me because how the fuck dare he?

  Our group was comprised of nearly thirty of the staff members and their guests who were working on the Phoenix campaign and took up a full table across the restaurant as well as some side booths. Weston saw me before I saw him and called me over. He was seated at the main table next to Nate at the head. The chair next to him was empty.

  There was still no sign of Donovan.

  “Told you I’d save you a seat,” Weston said, hugging me a little tighter than was maybe appropriate for a man who was engaged.

  He lingered in the embrace too, which was actually nice after the altercation I’d had outside. Unlike Donovan who was still in his suit, Weston had changed from work clothes to jeans and a T-shirt with a gray button-down sweater.

  I patted the fold of his shawl collar. “You look nice.”

  His gaze flickered to the very low cut of my dress. “Not as nice as you. I’m glad you made it.” He let his hand trail lightly down my backside then helped me with my jacket.

  We were doing this then—flirting. Playing around. It was likely going nowhere considering Weston’s current situation, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have a little fun if we kept it low-key. He probably needed it after weeks of being cooped up, so to say. I needed it to prove once and for all that he was exactly the kind of man I wanted to be with.

  Once we were both seated, Weston draped his arm over the back of my chair. “We’ve already ordered a ton of appetizers. We were thinking about getting a bunch of dumplings too and just sharing them all family style. Or you can get an entrée if you’d rather.”

  “No. Dumplings are good.” I honestly didn’t have much of an appetite. I was restless and distracted. My blood was still soaring with adrenaline and my skin felt itchy. “And a drink. A martini please.”

  Donovan finally came in from outside, which was a strange relief. When I’d thought he’d left, I’d wondered why I was even still out myself.

  Then he saw me, saw who I was sitting next to, and his expression grew hard and defiant, and my irritation returned.

  I put a hand on Weston’s arm and feigned excitement. “Look who’s here!”

  “Donovan!” Weston and Nate said in unison along with a few other employees.

  Donovan smiled tightly as he greeted and congratulated people, but one eye was always on me. I felt it even when I didn’t see it.

  I’d thought I’d lucked out when there weren’t any seats by us, but Tom and his wife had been sitting across from us, and now they had tickets to a show so they got up to leave just as Donovan was looking for a place to scoot in.

  Weston checked something on his phone, and I leaned in closer to him, just to show that I could, and Weston, who still had one hand on my chair, moved it closer so his fingers brushed against my shoulder.

  It was obviously intentional, and Donovan noticed so I shivered. On purpose.

  It might have been my imagination, but I swore I heard him growl.

  Weston had quite a different reaction. He moved his arm from behind me to in front of me—beneath the table. On my knee.

  Only the truly perceptible would have noticed.

  “Scotch. Straight,” Donovan said, his eyes still pinned on me, when the waiter took his order. He’d noticed where Weston’s hand had gone.

  Not that I was paying attention to anything Donovan said or did.

  We continued like that for a while—Donovan noticing me, me “not” noticing him, Weston playing with his phone and playing with my thigh. Without words, I could tell Donovan was more than displeased. Even across the table, the tension wrapped around us, as though we were a set, bound together by Cellophane. It smothered, making it hard to breathe. Making it hard to see anything outside of him.

  Then things really got interesting.

  Shortly after the first round of community dumplings arrived, so did Weston’s fiancée.

  “Elizabeth.” Weston’s hand left my leg for the first time since Donovan had arrived. He stood to greet her, surprise written all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

  He bent in to kiss her, but just before his mouth met hers, she moved and his lips landed on her cheek, which left him disgruntled at best.

  “My fiancé had a celebration,” she said gruffly. “Thought I should be here.”

  “I’ll move so you two can sit together,” Nate said, offering to slide into the spot across from Weston.

  Elizabeth waved him off. “Don’t be silly. I don’t need to sit by him. I’d much rather sit by Donovan.”


  Anyone who heard her would think she was teasing her groom-to-be, but to those in the know, it was obvious the level of tension between the couple had risen significantly.

  I almost exchanged a glance with Donovan about it but remembered he was an asshole so I exchanged one with Nate instead while Elizabeth climbed over to the open spot.

  “Now. Next time the waitress comes by, I’m going to need a drink.” She put her arm on Donovan’s back and ruffled the hair at the base of his neck. “So. I’m here!”

  Donovan responded by bending forward to take a bite of a dumpling, acting as though the hand on his neck didn’t have any effect on him at all.

  I scowled. Elizabeth’s fondling of Donovan was irritating, even if she and Weston weren’t really a couple. No wonder he was having problems with her.

  Weston seemed to find it annoying as well, if his actions were any indication. His hand found its way back to my knee, but only once he was sure that his fiancée was watching.

  Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to scowl.

  “You said you weren’t coming,” he said, low enough so that only those in our corner could hear.

  “I hadn’t planned to. But.” She turned and looked at the man next to her. “Donovan called and told me I needed to be here.”

  I clamped down so hard on the shrimp in my mouth that I bit my tongue. All the sound in the room seemed to whoosh by my ears, and my vision turned red.

  Donovan called.

  That’s what he’d been doing after I’d left him outside. When he’d realized I was going to come in and be with Weston, Donovan had called Weston’s fiancée.

  “Wasn’t that thoughtful of him,” Weston said through gritted teeth, though I was sure he believed Donovan’s intervention was about looking good for business or about not losing a bet on whether or not Weston could keep his pants zipped.

  He had no idea that the real reason his friend had interfered had to do with me.

  God, I was so mad I wanted to throw something.

  Or fuck something.

  It was strange to be so angry and so aroused, but that was how I was around Donovan—always excited and ready to go off in any way possible.