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Four days before launch.
I walk through the office and spot her blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail and she has a pair of jeans on.
Her ass looks fucking fantastic.
When she turns, I try to ignore the way the white t-shirt she wears hugs her curves and makes her look happy and carefree.
Payton has moved on.
I can see from the smile on her face and the way she glances away. She’s happy and glowing.
Not because of me.
Meanwhile, I stroked away in the shower this morning, recalling the way she slid down my cock in my Maserati as the engine grumbled beneath us.
And how my sperm shot from my unsheathed cock and filled her pussy.
Christ, now I’m hard again.
I slide my satchel an inch and ask what’s going on.
“We’re setting up at the venue today. You can come by tomorrow and take a look if you like. There will be more to see by then,” Payton says, barely meeting me in the eye.
“Good.” I nod, then head through to my office.
Today I am meeting with Ward and Miranda, the head of human resources, for the first stage of the interviews for his job.
There will be four stages, plus psyche evaluations and a handful of other tests they want applicants to undertake.
Unlike the others, I won’t have references because this is my first and only job. One I saw leading to me taking over the company from my father.
Anyway, here we are, and this is what’s required.
Being fucked off about it isn’t going to change anything. My father has every right to make whatever decisions he feels is best for WME, and I’ve always respected that.
And admired him.
While I’ve been focused on the launch campaign and obsessing over Payton Mills, vultures have been circling for my father’s role.
Daxton Phillips, CEO of Aurora Atelier, for one. He has industry experience and the skills necessary. I’d employ him if I were my father.
Then there’s Terry Alexandra. His experience lies in retail management, and while those skills are transferable, the lack of industry knowledge puts him at a disadvantage.
There are three others I don’t believe are strong contenders. Or at least, not my competitors. I imagine they don’t see me as competition, but they are wrong.
They should.
I’m going to fight for this job until the very end.
If they knew what I was giving up- possibly a woman I could fall in love with - then they would understand.
Love?
I rub my forehead.
Jesus, maybe Atlas is right. Maybe I am falling for Payton and then the question is, what do I actually want?
I glance at my doorway, knowing she is out there, and clench my teeth again.
