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An uneventful day. That’s what I pray for as I sit behind my monstrous desk. A calm day where I’m the only one in the office, working on emails and planning for appointments later in the week.
But before I can even sit down for a full ten minutes, a knock sounds on the glass at the far end of my office, shattering any hope of peace.
It’s Evie, and she wants to come in. She gestures emphatically for me to unlock the door.
I frown. We’d agreed to be friendlier in the office, but this is a few steps too far. Isn’t it a red flag that she would so quickly take such liberal use of my good favor? My defense mechanisms start to rise, as they always do when someone tries to get too close to me.
I consider just ignoring her; if it were important she would have called. I wouldn’t accept this kind of behavior from anyone else. Why is it that I can forgive it in Evie? Why can’t I control myself around her? The vulnerability is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.
Evie knocks harder in the face of my indecision.
I press the button on my intercom and say, “What would you like, Ms. Davis?”
The formality of my words doesn’t deter her.
“Let me in!” She sounds out of breath, like she ran here.
There better be some fucking zombies in the hallway. I buzz her in.
Evie jogs down the long carpet that leads to my desk. It’s a striking difference from the frosty, trying-not-to-be-intimidated Evie who’d come to pitch to me a month ago. She’s dressed professionally in a red blouse and black pants. I can’t help but stare at her breasts as they bounce down my aisle.
Goddammit, when exactly did I regress into a horny teenager?
Speaking of which, my dick, sensing that Evie is nearby, is starting to perk up and sniff the air. “Down boy,” I mutter.
“This better be important,” I say icily when she’s within earshot.
“Kara Kon,” she says. Now that she’s here I can tell that she’s panting. “Wants to meet. In. Twenty minutes.”
Immediately all thoughts of annoyance (and my dick) are forgotten. The centerpiece of our launch plan, Ms. Kon has proven rather tricky to track down. It’s the reason why I hate working with celebrities. They can be incredibly fickle, and it’s not in my nature to cater to anyone.
But my pride has to take a backseat today.
I jump to my feet. “Why didn’t you call?” I demand.
“I tried!” she says.
I curse and grab my phone off the desk. It’s dead. This is why I don’t stay out late on random nights. Fuck with my schedule and I forget to do something as important as charge my damn phone. I might have missed this opportunity if Evie wasn’t within running distance.
For now glossing over why she was here at all, I grab my suit jacket off the hook and together we head downstairs, Evie filling me in as we make our way to my private car.
“As you know, I’ve been getting yanked around by her manager, but I managed to track down her personal phone number this morning.”
“I’m not going to ask,” I say, trying not to smile.
“I wouldn’t,” she confirms. “No reason for both of us to be liable. But anyway, I called it, not even thinking it was going to work, but she answered!”
“And she actually talked to you?” I ask, surprised.
“No,” Evie says. “She hung up pretty much instantly after telling me to delete her number and also something I could do to my asshole if I felt so inclined.”
“So…” I start.
“So I texted her,” Evie says.
We pause when we reach my car. My driver, Horus, practically lives behind the wheel. He pauses his latest HBO binge and starts to get out to open the car door for us. I wave him back and open it myself, trying hard not to stare at Evie’s ass as she climbs into the high seats.
“And make it fast,” I say after Evie tells him the location, an address in Brooklyn. “Time is crucial.”
