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I have no clue what the project is—if it is product branding, or website design, or what—for all I know, it could be completely out of my wheelhouse…but there isn’t a chance in hell I’d pass up the opportunity Celine is handing to me.

“Yes. You can count on me.”

“Good.” She turns to her desktop, clicking her mouse around. “Annual reviews are coming up soon. Who knows, maybe there’s some growth in your future if this goes well. Then again, I don’t need to remind you that if there are any issues…” she trails off, not needing to expound upon her threat.

It is always like this with Celine. She can never just be nice, she always has to wield a double-edged sword.

“Of course, I understand.”

“Good, because—” she pauses, her expression souring as she reads something on her phone. “That fucker.” The curse comes out of nowhere, filled with pure venom. When her eyes flick up to me, they blaze with a cold blue flame. “I have to make a call. See yourself out.”

“Yes, I—”

“Darcy, what the hell do you mean?” She cuts me off, having already forgotten about my existence as she raises her phone to her ear. I don’t even know how she managed to dial someone that quickly. “I don’t care what he said. You make it work. That’s why I pay you. Or do I need to get your father involved?”

I slip out of the room, quietly clicking the glass door shut behind me.

I have a feeling that the “he” being mentioned is Cullen; there is no one else who brings out that venomous side to Celine with quite the same fury.

For all that Celine teased about glowing opportunities and advancements in my career, I know I am still walking a thin line because if she ever found out about my involvement with her ex…she’d decimate me until I am rubble beneath her feet.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CULLEN

“Clifton took a meeting with Powers.”

I groan at the first sentence Alonso has spoken to me in over two weeks.

“How do you know?”

“I overheard Varsh on the phone this morning, congratulating him while we were at the open house.”

“Fucking hell.”

Today had been going great. I closed another deal on a new commercial storefront on Fifth Ave. and am currently sitting at a restaurant, waiting for Verity to join me for her lunch break. I got us a reservation at Gaëtan, an upscale French bistro a stop away from her office. They are normally booked over a month in advance, but Sonny is friends with the head pâtissier and got us to the top of the waitlist. The news of one of our rivals swooping in for the deal I’ve been trying to win is a sour note.

“Did you hear anything else?”

“No. He caught me after that. Gave me a smug look and then dipped outside.”

I let out a weary sigh. I don’t understand why this listing is so damn hard for me to score. It should be a walk in the park. Since moving back to the city, my name has been on the top of everyone’s lists—except Clifton’s; he is still remaining loyal to the guys at Vanguard. At this point, I want the deal out ofspite. The mere fact that they are playing hard to get is the only motivation I need. The more things seem to fall from my grasp, the harder I work to hold onto them.

“Look, I hate to ask for a favor, but do you think you could do some digging for me?”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Why?” I ask cautiously.

“Because I have a favor, too. You know that penthouse on Sixty-first?”

“Yeah.”

“I need a buyer. Think you can tap into that network of yours?”

“Sure. I’ll see what I can—”

“Cullen.” A sharp and dreadfully familiar feminine voice cuts into my phone call.