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“Ladies, sorry about that.” A chair squeaks as Frankie pulls it back and joins us, fully clothed this time but still smelling distinctly of sex. “Seems I got my days mixed up.”

“Not a worry, Mr. Jones. We should’ve followed up.” Jenna gives him her sunniest smile as though we didn’t send his team thirty emails yesterday and his own agent isn’t at the table with us right now.

“These things happen.” He waves his hand nonchalantly, buying into the bullshit.

We spend the next two hours going over the deck and then listening to all the changes Frankie has in mind. He seems to have the attention span of a rock, and the ideas he is coming up with sound utterly horrible. The only positive is that his agent wrangles the worst of them in, which has me convinced that he is the only reason why Frankie isn’t in a mountain of debt from bad investments. I also have an inkling that Bridget must pay for a lot of his stuff, based on the way he keeps referencing her when it comes to some of the pricing.

I really don’t like this guy.

Ugh. This is why I wish I could just pick my own clients to work with.

By the time we are finished going over everything, my emotional battery is at fifty percent. Still, I try to keep the pleasant smile on my face as Gary gets up and leads us back out of the apartment.

We are almost at the door when I hear a muffled feminine voice that isn’t Jenna or Anne. I glance back over my shoulder to see a tall, model-like woman pop out from the hallway wearing a silky white robe over her brown skin. She’s only there for a second before she dips back into the hallway.

The three of us awkwardly exchange a glance, the same thought crossing through all of our minds as Gary practically nudges us all out of the apartment and into the elevator.

“I don’t have to remind you all that you signed an NDA, correct?” His skeezy smile is brittle and thin as we walk out into the lobby.

“Of course not,” Jenna placates. “We’ll have the revisions for Mr. Jones’ review on Monday, and then hopefully we can have everything sorted for you to send to your manufacturing and production partners.”

He gives us a short nod and then heads back into the elevator.

We jump in a rideshare at Jenna’s insistence and head to the office. It’s a surprisingly nice ride, the three of us bonding over our mutual annoyance of Frankie Jones and the audacity the man seems to have. It’s a change of pace compared to the way we typically stick to dry work conversations or—in the case of Anne and me—thinly veiled competitive jabs.

The earlier anxiety that had been bubbling in my stomach has abated, and I walk into the office in a pretty good mood.

I barely drop my bag at my desk when there is a short rap on the side of my cubicle. I look up, and my heart just about stops in my chest.

“See me in my office.”

Celine breezes past without a pause in her gait, but I feel like I was just hit by a hurricane. I drop everything, following behind her to the corner office.

“Take a seat.”

She slips into her large leather office chair, the stunning city skyline shining through the windows behind her. I clock the building I’d picked out from Cullen’s window this morning and swallow thickly, dropping into the uncomfortable armchair across from her desk.

The last time I’d been in this situation was after the Kelton event, when I’d been sure she’d seen Cullen and me together.

This feels like déjà vu.

Does she know I spent the night with him? Oh God, can she see the sex on my skin, in my cheeks or my hair? People say you get a certain glow after sex, that there is this happiness that naturally filters into your energy—is that what she is seeing?

Please tell me my boss doesn’t know that I had sex with her ex-husband.

“I wanted to talk to you briefly about an opportunity that is coming up.”

And just like last time, I have gotten into my head again.

She isn’t talking about Cullen; it is work. It isalwayswork with Celine.

“I’m all ears.”

“HP Energy did a rerun of your ads recently, and the response is just as positive as it was previously. One of the clients I met at the Kelton event reached out to inquire about the designer. It’s an interesting opportunity and has a high revenue tag associated with it. Normally something of this level would be assigned to a manager or someone with a little more experience, but you’ve been surprising me recently, Verity. You’ve shown me that you can be professional. That you know when to speak and when not to. You have also shown me that you understand your place and how to be discreet.”

Oh, she has no idea how discreet I truly could be.

“I’ll admit, I’m hesitant to assign this client to you. You’re still a little too green. Which is why I’ve decided to have Davina handle the negotiations. However, if it all comes to pass—would you be up to lead the project?”