Page 36
Story: King of Envy
Despite my invitation, I didn’t expect him to say yes. It was a workday, and he had better things to do than hang out with me.
I’d already resigned myself to my own company when he grabbed his coffee before the barista had a chance to call his name. He ignored her double take when she saw his face and took the seat across from mine.
He was so large and the chair so small, he resembled a giant sitting on doll’s furniture, but his warning stare told me to keep that observation to myself.
I fought a smile. “I would’ve thought a big-shot CEO would have his assistant fetch his coffee. How down-to-earth of you to get it yourself.”
I always pick up my own drinks. Less risk of them getting poisoned that way.
I stared at him. “Are you serious, or was that a joke? Actually, never mind.” I held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
People weren’t really running around poisoning rival CEOs, were they? Yet the idea somehow seemed more plausible than Vuk Markovic making an honest-to-God joke.
His mouth tipped up, but his eyes remained impassive.How’s the wedding planning going?
My chest deflated while my mouth maintained a smile. “It’s going great. The church ceremony is small, and Vivian is on top of it.” Jordan and I had hired Vivian Russo, a well-known luxury event planner. She was also one of Sloane’s best friends, and I had full faith in her to execute the big day flawlessly. “We’ll get everything done in time. It’s going to be a beautiful ceremony.”
I’m sure you’re thrilled. You’ve been counting down the days, haven’t you?
Vuk’s trap unfolded so casually I would’ve missed it had I not spotted the near-imperceptible tensing of his shoulders.
He was testing me. Why? Had he picked up on my horror at the Vault before he left? Or was he still suspicious about my almond slip-up at the cake tasting?
Either way, he was watching my face like a hawk.
“Well, I obviously wish we were getting married under better circumstances, but what bride doesn’t dream of her wedding day?” I hoped he didn’t notice the slight shake of my hand when I brought the cup to my mouth again.
Just minutes ago, I’d convinced myself an earlier wedding was a good thing for various reasons, but Vuk’s words sent those rationales scattering like leaves in the wind.
Ishouldbe thrilled. After all, a platonic marriage wasn’t that different from my current (nonexistent) love life, and I was getting paid for it to boot. Plus, Jordan and I were good friends, and we had fun together. There were far worse things than being married to a good friend.
But friend didn’t equal lover, and platonic didn’t equal romantic.
At the end of the day, it wasn’t love. Not the kind that I would be thrilled about.
Once again, that’s not an answer.Vuk hadn’t touched his coffee. His attention was wholly focused on me, and I suddenly empathized with how bugs under a microscope must feel.
“It is. Why are you so obsessed with my thoughts and feelings regarding the wedding anyway?” A hint of irritation snapped into my voice.
It wasn’t like me to lose my cool, but every time I extended an olive branch, he used it to browbeat me with his arrogance. What happened to small talk and pleasant conversation?
I want to know if you’re in love with Jordan.
“Why?”
He’s my friend. You’re marrying him. Connect the dots.
It was incredible how quickly I went from being happy to see him to wanting to slap him.
“You,” I said, squeezing my cup so tightly a drop of liquid splashed over the side,“can be a real jerk.”
I’ve been called worse.The bastard didn’t even blink.Answer the question, Ayana. Are you in love with him?
Yes.One word, one syllable.It was a simple enough lie.
The response hovered on the tip of my tongue, yet I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I chose a workaround instead.
“I love Jordan, and I’m marrying him.” I took a steadying breath and squared my shoulders. I wasn’tin lovewith Jordan, but I did love him—as a friend. “So unless you have a legitimate orpersonalobjection to our union, I would appreciate if you stopped interrogating me about it. It makes me uncomfortable.”
I’d already resigned myself to my own company when he grabbed his coffee before the barista had a chance to call his name. He ignored her double take when she saw his face and took the seat across from mine.
He was so large and the chair so small, he resembled a giant sitting on doll’s furniture, but his warning stare told me to keep that observation to myself.
I fought a smile. “I would’ve thought a big-shot CEO would have his assistant fetch his coffee. How down-to-earth of you to get it yourself.”
I always pick up my own drinks. Less risk of them getting poisoned that way.
I stared at him. “Are you serious, or was that a joke? Actually, never mind.” I held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
People weren’t really running around poisoning rival CEOs, were they? Yet the idea somehow seemed more plausible than Vuk Markovic making an honest-to-God joke.
His mouth tipped up, but his eyes remained impassive.How’s the wedding planning going?
My chest deflated while my mouth maintained a smile. “It’s going great. The church ceremony is small, and Vivian is on top of it.” Jordan and I had hired Vivian Russo, a well-known luxury event planner. She was also one of Sloane’s best friends, and I had full faith in her to execute the big day flawlessly. “We’ll get everything done in time. It’s going to be a beautiful ceremony.”
I’m sure you’re thrilled. You’ve been counting down the days, haven’t you?
Vuk’s trap unfolded so casually I would’ve missed it had I not spotted the near-imperceptible tensing of his shoulders.
He was testing me. Why? Had he picked up on my horror at the Vault before he left? Or was he still suspicious about my almond slip-up at the cake tasting?
Either way, he was watching my face like a hawk.
“Well, I obviously wish we were getting married under better circumstances, but what bride doesn’t dream of her wedding day?” I hoped he didn’t notice the slight shake of my hand when I brought the cup to my mouth again.
Just minutes ago, I’d convinced myself an earlier wedding was a good thing for various reasons, but Vuk’s words sent those rationales scattering like leaves in the wind.
Ishouldbe thrilled. After all, a platonic marriage wasn’t that different from my current (nonexistent) love life, and I was getting paid for it to boot. Plus, Jordan and I were good friends, and we had fun together. There were far worse things than being married to a good friend.
But friend didn’t equal lover, and platonic didn’t equal romantic.
At the end of the day, it wasn’t love. Not the kind that I would be thrilled about.
Once again, that’s not an answer.Vuk hadn’t touched his coffee. His attention was wholly focused on me, and I suddenly empathized with how bugs under a microscope must feel.
“It is. Why are you so obsessed with my thoughts and feelings regarding the wedding anyway?” A hint of irritation snapped into my voice.
It wasn’t like me to lose my cool, but every time I extended an olive branch, he used it to browbeat me with his arrogance. What happened to small talk and pleasant conversation?
I want to know if you’re in love with Jordan.
“Why?”
He’s my friend. You’re marrying him. Connect the dots.
It was incredible how quickly I went from being happy to see him to wanting to slap him.
“You,” I said, squeezing my cup so tightly a drop of liquid splashed over the side,“can be a real jerk.”
I’ve been called worse.The bastard didn’t even blink.Answer the question, Ayana. Are you in love with him?
Yes.One word, one syllable.It was a simple enough lie.
The response hovered on the tip of my tongue, yet I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I chose a workaround instead.
“I love Jordan, and I’m marrying him.” I took a steadying breath and squared my shoulders. I wasn’tin lovewith Jordan, but I did love him—as a friend. “So unless you have a legitimate orpersonalobjection to our union, I would appreciate if you stopped interrogating me about it. It makes me uncomfortable.”
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