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I go to head down the stairs when she speaks. “This thing with you and me…” Her violet eyes are big as she looks at me.
“One day at a time, right?” I say.
“Right.”
My dinner date turns into drinks. Michaela Emmerton is dressed for sex and seduction. It doesn’t take any type of genius to work that out.
She’s gorgeous, rich, and ruthless. My type.
So putting aside the night and day spent with Zoey, I can’t quite work out why I’m not interested.
She’s in town from the UK and I know her unspoken offer is, as always on the table. We’ve hooked up in the past and it’s been hot. And now…
In this upscale bar on the Upper East Side, I’m interested in business but nothing else. Michaela leans in, tracing a long-nailed finger along a vein in my hand.
“Magnus?”
She’s been talking to me, and I sip my tequila that’s so smooth and smoky it might be mistaken as single malt by an untutored tongue, but the agave gives it that extra level. I stare into my heavy-based glass, then at her. “Distracted. Sorry.”
“I was suggesting we take this meeting to my suite.” She raises a brow. “Or not.”
“Here is good for now. I’ve got a heavy week.”
And she strokes a finger on my throat. “And someone on your mind?”
Fuck… I pull her hand away, and am about to get back onto the investment and donation at hand when something grabs my attention.
I glance up, and there, across the other side of the curved open bar is Suzanna.
Zoey’s friend.
Something heavy slams like a lead wrecking ball into my stomach.
Shit…meet fan.
Chapter Sixteen
Zoey
My fingers are numb and cold and a trickle of ice moves down my spine.
I look at Suzanna who is so out of place in the no frills bar with her hot red dress and heels. She bounces a foot and tosses her hair over her shoulder and the men in O’Reilly’s devour every move.
Well, the ones who are straight and aren’t accompanied by any kind of other half. Although they sneak looks, too.
I make myself lift my chin and I shrug. “I don’t own him.”
“It’s not about ownership. You’ve kissed and…you should have seen that woman.” She grabs her breasts pushing up her cleavage and above the music a glass smashes.
We’ve done way more than kiss. I can still feel Magnus touching me. Magnus inside me. And—I don’t own him, like I said.
I’m sure if I say that enough it won’t hurt.
He told me—more or less—he was seeing his grandmother.
But again…I don’t own him.
“She makes me look flat chested.” Suzanna stops, and has the grace to blush. “I mean…look, I worry about you, and I’ve seen how you look at him.”
