So why am I so indecisive about Emmett? I should be able to make up my mind.
Emmett Lasker is a person, not a school or a job.
And people are complicated. They don’t always seem to be what they really are. Just look at my mom and dad. He thought she was worth it, did all the right things for her, but she ended up leaving him. The pretty outward packaging was exactly that—packaging. In the end, it
couldn’t conceal her selfish inner bitch.
There’s nothing that says Emmett is going to be different from my mom.
Maybe what I need is a sign. It doesn’t matter if it says a fling with Emmett is going to be fine or sleeping with Emmett again is going to be a terrible mistake. I just want something so I can decide.
And then I have to laugh at myself over how silly I’m being. I don’t do signs. I must be really frazzled to want one. I believe in facts. And planning.
My phone buzzes. I look down, wondering if Emmett’s texting me to see if I’m ready to head home.
But no. It’s not Emmett. It’s the sign I was hoping for.
Chapter Sixteen
Amy
–Marion: Hello, Amy. I’m thrilled to let you know the position’s yours, should you still want it. HR is going to get in touch next week with the official offer, but I wanted to be the first to let you know.
I stop breathing for a second. I didn’t expect the Blaire Group to make their decision this fast.
–Marion: Our compensation is generous, and there will be a relocation bonus as well. The details will be coming soon. Congratulations!
Smiling, I read both texts again. It’s not a dream. I have the job.
–Me: Thank you! I look forward to speaking to your HR people next week!
This is a sign I should have a hot, discreet fling with Emmett Lasker for the next seven weeks and six days. If things get awkward or if he turns out to be some closet asshole, who cares? It’s a fling! And the Blaire Group is in Virginia! Five hours away by plane!
Thank you, Marion Blaire. You’re the best.
Feeling like the weight of the world has lifted off my shoulders, I sigh. This is the reward for all the things I’ve had to put up with.
I go to the resting area, where Emmett is back in his clothes and sitting at a table with some hot herbal tea. His wide shoulders seem loose and relaxed. The white porcelain cup looks dainty in his large hand, but he seems comfortable holding the fragile thing. He takes a ruminative sip and nods to himself. I can’t remember a time when he was this free of tension.
Then he raises his eyes and our gazes meet. Something raw and hot coils in my belly.
Pretending I’m not feeling anything, I join him at the elegant table covered with white cloth.
“How was it?” he asks, a small smile curving his lips.
“Fantastic. Thank you.” I choose the ginger lemon tea, which comes out almost immediately. I sip it. So. Good. “You’re going to get me addicted to these massages.”
“You should splurge. You received the highest bonus last year among your peers.”
That part is no secret. Our rank is a big factor in the firm’s compensation formula. I’m probably going to make the top again this fiscal year, which is in June.
“I would, but all my money’s earmarked,” I say.
“So is mine, but I allocate some of it to make myself feel good.”
It’s too bad he doesn’t earmark some of his effort on being less of a dick to his employees. “I’m ready to head out if you are,” I say, since I’m done with my tea and I don’t want to tell him what I just decided here. The non-massage areas seem to be poorly soundproofed, and I don’t want some receptionist hearing what I’m about to propose. “We can talk on the way.”
Emmett raises an eyebrow, but we get up and he signs a slip for the service on our way out. The valet brings the Lamborghini around, and Emmett hands him a few bills. Then we’re both in the car and off.