Her throat bobbed viciously as she swallowed. He watched it all, her face, for any signs that she might yield, but she was closed off. A blank wall that he couldn’t bulldoze without bulldozing everything that they’d built back up.
“We- the job…”
“I’ll still do the job.” Her chin angled up. “You don’t have to even ask me that. Now, just, please… go.”
Trey knew he had no choice. Not at the moment. If he wanted to lose this battle and still win the war, he had to do as she asked. So, he did. He turned and left her just like he’d left her five years ago. In pain, angry, nearly broken.
He vowed that he’d keep fighting. That he could fix things, but the truth was, he was no longer sure. He wasn’t sure that he could win Ambi back when she didn’t want to be won. He thumped down the steps, back to Ambi’s office and parked his ass in her upholstered desk chair. He propped his feet up on her desk and watched the storm still raging outside.
It was time to pull out all the stops. All. Of. Them.
CHAPTER 12
Amberina
The first thing Ambi looked for the next morning was her phone. Not because she was eager to see who was texting her at the butt crack of dawn, but because she was going to be sure to block their number from her phone so they could never wake her up at five in the morning again
Of course, the text was from Trey.
Got home safe. Got my car. Everything’s good. I have another venue I’d like you to see. Meet me there at nine?
Ambi groaned and threw her head back against the pillow. God. As if last night wasn’t enough humiliation. Now she had to submit to Mr. Evil all over again. Of course, he’d mess with her plans to book the hall that he’d agreed on the day before. Thankfully, she hadn’t actually done it yet, because of the storm. She gave her head a shake, thrashing against the pillow and probably matting her hair up unmercifully in the process. Mr. Evil had a real nice ring to it. It described Trey perfectly.
Much better than Mr. Eat Me Out Until I’m Glowing Red With Embarrassment And Pleasure And Still Have To Do A Walk Of Shame In My Own House To Get His Clothes Out Of The Dryer Before I Could Kick Him The Hell Out And Die Of Mortification.
Yes. Mr. Evil was much, much better.
At the thought of what Trey had done to her, Ambi let out another groan. It wasn’t overly warm in the room- with the radiators, it never truly was- but suddenly her limbs suffused with heat and she felt achy, almost feverish.
How the hell did Trey even get someone to agree to a meeting first thing in the morning? Was he on a first-name basis with the woman who worked at the venue? Did he call her in the middle of the night?
Something wicked and hot bubbled up her throat. Jealousy. She wanted to laugh at herself, but the new level of pathetic she’d just reached wasn’t funny at all. It was just that. PA to the T to the T-H-E-T-I-C.
Why couldn’t he just make anything simple? Why couldn’t he sit back and let her do her job? He’d hired her and paid her a ridiculous amount of money to do the stupid party planning, yet he was the one coming up with alternative venues. Trey’s face flooded her mind and with it, the image of her juices smeared all over his chin. Unfortunately, her brain also conjured up images of the sunning he’d given her… and the moon. He had a really good moon. He had an even nicer sun.
God. No. Fudgeballs. Buttstinker. Why her? Aren’t there any other women out there for Trey to torment?
Why her? Why her indeed. He’d sat at the table, smug as he fricking well pleased, to tell her that he was just waiting for the right time to get back with her because she was so pathetic there was no way she would have moved on with anyone else.
This time, she imagined Trey’s naked moon staring her full-on, but she was chasing after him with an angry expression on her face and a very deadly, very zappy, very painful cattle prod. It would be no less than he deserved. What he did not deserve was mercy. What he did not deserve was to be proven right. Annnnd that’s exactly what she did by spreading her legs for him.
Ambi gripped her phone until the case dug into the tender flesh of her palm. She felt like a caged animal. A wild bird who had just had its wings clipped so that it could never go back to enjoying life as it knew it before.