“I can monitor his phone calls to her if you'd like. That's easy enough and pretty low-risk.”
“Please, do that. We need to, uh, we need to keep tabs on this situation.”
“Can do. Is there anything else you'd like me to do? I mean, I can open up an investigation on her, as well? Monitor her, have one of my team tail her, do a bit of digging. There is a risk that she could sell him a number of company secrets. And you know, of course, how disastrous that could be.”
I paused for a moment to consider this. I had no qualms about invading the privacy of a scumbag like Brendan Savage, but to do it to Lilah was an entirely different matter. Matt was right about the risk that she could sell valuable company information to Savage, but I didn't see her doing that. Lilah had too much integrity. I didn't think that it would be a risk at all, in fact.
There was no way I could do that to her—not a chance.
“Just stick with Savage,” I instructed. “I think the risk of Lilah selling me out is minimal. Non-existent, actually.”
“You sure? Often those closest to a person are the first to betray them,” Matt said. “I've seen it all too many times in my line of work, trust me on that.”
“I'm sure you have. But I trust her. I'd trust her with my life, in fact.”
“Suit yourself. I'll stick with Savage, then.”
“Good. We'll get to the bottom of this.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lilah
I woke up early Friday morning to go on my usual running route before work. Yet again, someone in particular had woken up before me. On my phone was a Facebook message from Brendan.
Good morning, beautiful :) Was just wondering what you're up to this evening? If you're free, let me know. There's an amazing new restaurant having their official opening tonight. I'm on the guest list, and I haven't chosen my plus one yet—well, I have, but I'm waiting to see if you'll agree to go.
Trust me, this place is going to be the talk of all of the food columnists for the next few weeks. It's that famous French chef with the cooking show. It's his first restaurant in the US, and it's already booked for two months out.
But, like I said, I'm on the guest list and would love to take you. We can talk a little more about my offer.
It's a black tie event, so you'll need to dress up. I admit, I’d love to take you anywhere, but I’m looking forward to seeing you in an evening dress. I suspect it'll knock me clean off my feet.
Let me know as soon as you've decided.
Brendan
I reread the message, then put my phone down while I got changed into my running gear. Brendan had been relentless in terms of messaging me over the past few days. He'd made it clear that he was interested in me in many more ways than professionally. While I couldn't say I felt the same about him, I'd heard a lot about his company and he was definitely a force to be considered in the PR world.
Of course, Asher had been on my mind a lot as well. It proved impossible to forget the night we'd spent together in Paris. At random moments during the day, a steamy recollection of that evening would jump into my head. I'd gasp for breath and heat would flush through my body. The thought of him made me instantly weak at the knees.
But, at the same time, the conflict remained in my mind. He was my boss, and he had a reputation as someone whose taste in women was fast and fickle.
So, while he seemed to be truly sincere and genuine about his affection for me, part of me couldn’t help wondering if I was just the flavor of the month, waiting to be dumped when he was ready to move on to whatever model or actress caught his attention next.
Of course, there were the professional consequences of this little union, consequences which could spell disaster for my career if anything went sour. I'd worked my ass off to get where I was, to ascend the ladder from the ground up to the rung I was currently perched on—however precariously.
So, while I sat and fought these battles in my mind in silence and isolation, I had done the only thing I knew was safe to do under such circumstances: I'd deliberately kept my distance from Asher, keeping things quiet and cool between us.
I know I probably seemed like a flake who couldn’t make up her mind, but I had to. It was the only way I could cope with what was going on. It was what I needed to do until I reached some sort of resolution for this.
I had hoped going for a run would clear my head of the conflict floating around my mind, but it didn’t. It did, apparently spur me on. I ran my five miles in a personal record time although, when I got back, it felt as if I'd pushed things a little too hard. Nothing a nice, hot refreshing shower couldn’t cure.
While sipping on my post-run breakfast smoothie, I considered Brendan's invitation to the new restaurant in town. I didn't want to give him the impression that I was romantically interested in him, but I did want to find out more about his professional offer—if only to satisfy my curiosity. It would be nice to see what other options might be available to me if things between Asher and I reached a point where I'd need to leave the Sinclair Agency.
Of course, the thought of being on a VIP list at one of the city's hottest new restaurants was a bit of a draw too. I couldn't deny that.
I took out my phone and typed out a quick reply.