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Except I’ve already guessed. “Don’t tell me. A balloon ride.”
“Yup. Her post is all about how she’s going up in a balloon with New England Adventures tomorrow. She even used a hashtag #takingtothesky, which sounds an awful lot like the name of the campaign Tammy pitched to me.”
“So you think Addison somehow got wind of the offer and went to this Tammy?”
“How can I not think that? I haven’t received the countersigned contract yet, and it’s been three days. They canceled the balloon flight on me with the excuse they didn’t have availability, but apparently they have availability to take Addison Ames up that same day?” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how she found out, but she did. And here’s the thing, Braden. They could only pay me two thousand dollars. Addie won’t even think about posting for less than twenty grand.”
“It’s possible they offered her more,” I say, though I doubt my own words.
“I don’t think so. They’re a small operation. Addie must have agreed to do it for two. Just to get me.”
I flatten my lips into a line as a spark of anger ignites in my veins.
I don’t ever think I’ve been angrier with Addison Ames that I am in this moment, and I’ve been ready to blow my top at her many times before.
I agree with Skye. This has Addie’s stench all over it.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say.
“No! That’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to get involved. This is my problem.”
“All it’ll take is a quick call to your balloon place.”
“Please. No. That’s not why I told you.”
“Then why did you tell me?”
She doesn’t reply, just parts her lips in the way that drives me wild.
“Skye, when you tell me about a problem, I find a solution. It’s what I do.”
“I’m not asking for a solution. Please. I’ll handle this myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely sure. Let’s just have dinner.”
I won’t push her. Not on how she chooses to handle her career. To handle Addie.
I’ll be doing enough pushing in the bedroom.
The salmon en croute with asparagus and walnut sauce is delicious, but Skye hardly touches hers.
“Don’t let Addie ruin the evening for you,” I tell her.
“I’m not. I won’t. Addie doesn’t control me.”
“Good girl,” I say, adding to myself, Only I control you.
“Do you want some more champagne?” I nod toward the bottle sitting in ice.
She smiles. “You know what I’d really like?”
“Wild Turkey?”
“Yes. Please.”
I head to the bar. No one waylays me this time, as everyone’s busy eating dinner. I bring back two bourbons.
