Page 19 of Choosing Samantha

“Fuck.” I slam my phone onto the desk just as Miles walks into the conference room, looking grim.

“What did you do?”

“I reserved her schedule.”

His face goes still. “Without asking?”

“The service allowed it,” I say as if that will make everything right.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“I intended to explain.”

“When? After she discovered you’d secretly purchased control over her employment?”

Hearing it that way makes the truth sound ugly—I have no defense. I’m so afraid of losing her to someone else that I made the one choice that was sure to push her away.

“Where is she?” I push back from the desk.

Miles checks his tablet. “She accepted an assignment for tonight.”

Jealousy hits me first, then shame, but I have no one to blame but myself. “What kind of assignment?” I choke out, hating that she’s out with someone else tonight.

“A masked ball at the Blackstone estate.”

I grab my coat without thinking and rush out. I’ll do whatever it takes to win her forgiveness, even if it means letting her go.

***

The ballroom sparkles with masks, jewels, and candlelight. I find Samantha near the dance floor, wearing a silver gown and a delicate blue mask—her hand on another man’s arm, yet she keeps her body turned slightly away from him at a professional distance—unlike how she used to stand next to me.

Anger rises in me—not at her, but at myself. I’m the reason she’s there, on another man’s arm.

I cross the ballroom, and her client recognizes me, releasing her arm immediately. “Jamison.”

“I need to speak with Samantha.” I don’t even spare him a glance, my eyes fixed on Samantha.

She turns at the sound of my voice—even with the mask, I can see how hurt she is. “No.” That single word stops me more than any security system ever could.

I keep several feet between us. “Please.”

“I’m working.” Her voice is flat, devoid of emotion, but her eyes tell a different story.

“I arranged compensation with the agency and your client. You’re free to leave if you wish.”

Her eyes flash. “You paid another man to give you my time?” Her words cut right through me.

“I’m making this worse.”

“You have a talent for it.”

“Yes.” She looks surprised by my admission of guilt. “I was wrong.” People move around us, but I don’t care who hears anymore. “I had no right to block your assignments. I told myself I was protecting you, but I was protecting myself from jealousy. I used my money and access to make a decision that was yours.”

She lifts her chin, tears welling in her eyes. “You lied to me.”

“Yes.”

“You disappeared after we slept together.”