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“Right.”

“I hope we can keep the incident private and move on. I have high hopes for you, Ms. Moore. It would be unfortunate if petty gossip stalled what I see as a flourishing career.”

“Of course. My lips are sealed.”

Lips that touched your ex-husband’s lips.

I want to bang my head on the desk.

“Good. You did well assisting Jenna on the Kelton project, and as I mentioned, new clients have stepped forward as a result. Big clients with big opportunities for the company, Team One, and for you.”

Is she serious?

“Nothing’s set in stone, and I would like the focus to be on pursuing Frankie Jones as of now. But so long as you continue on your path without causing any bumps, I see a bright road ahead.”

“Thank you, Celine. That means a lot.”

“Of course, we are a family here.” Her icy smile injects little warmth into the words she preaches almost daily.

I head back to my desk in a daze, head swimming with the hidden meaning behind everything Celine just said. I can’t tell whether I was threatened or praised.

My phone vibrates with an event reminder, and I hold it up to check what it is.

DINNER W/ CULLEN in 2 hours

Grief sinks my heart at the reminder of a date that isn’t going to happen, a date that can’t happen. Celine was ready to send me packing for even breathing a word about her fight with her ex. If she ever learns about our connection, she would probably murder me with her stiletto.

There is no way I can be with Cullen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CULLEN

How did everything turn to shit in the span of twelve hours?

I run a hand down my face and stare out the windows in my corner office. The city bustles below me, but all I can think about is one woman.

“Mr. Ross?”

There’s a knock on my door, and I spin around as my assistant slips in and hands me a stack of papers.

“Here are the files you asked for.”

I flip through the first few pages before placing them to the side. I am conducting some extra research on Clifton Bank after my meeting this morning only brought me moremaybesfrom the man himself. He is holding out for some reason, and I need to figure out what it is before I can secure the listing.

“Thank you, Amy.”

“Of course. Also, Mr. Hughes is here to see you.”

Great.

“Tell him I’m not here.”

“Too late.” The man in question sidesteps my assistant and waltzes into the room, dropping onto the chair in front of my desk. “You’ve been ignoring my calls all day.”

“I thought you would get the hint.”

“You should be grateful I dragged myself downtown to deal with this mess. You know she had a no contact clause in that agreement.”