Page 62

She pulls away after a minute and retrieves her underwear from where I flung it behind us, pulling it on as she straightens her skirt, then returns to me, tucking me back in my boxers and zipping my pants up. She works on buttoning my now-wrinkled shirt next, whispering, “I think you should buy it. For what it’s worth.”
The dreamy fog surrounding my brain fades slightly. “What?”
“Montague Media. From what I remembered from the files, it was a good deal.”
My brows narrow. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”
Her hands pause on the last button, silence stretching between us. “I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I guess I was just getting back into work mode.”
I look beyond her, my mood somewhat soured. “Right.” I mean, we’re at work. That makes sense.
But while I’m internally rhapsodizing about how into her I am, she’s still on those files?
“Ignore me.” She waves her hands around her head. “You addled my brain with that orgasm. That was tacky and I’m sorry.”
My chest goes tight at the contriteness on her face. “No, no. You’re fine. Talking about work when we’re at work is reasonable.”
She moves nearer, reaching up to give me a kiss. “So we’re good, then?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Her smile eases me somewhat. “Is it all right if I use your bathroom? I probably really look a mess now.”
I gesture toward the private room in the corner of the office. “Of course.”
I slip back on my suit jacket, donning my CEO armor again. I guess if we continue to do whatever this is we’re doing, I’ll need to get used to returning to work mode more quickly too.
The only question is—what exactly is it we’re doing?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emma
“What are you working on?”
I jump in my seat, glad I only had a ruler in my hand and not scissors. “Mom, you scared me.”
“Sorry, honey.”
I glance over my shoulder, finding her lingering in my doorway. I must have been too focused to hear her open it. “It’s a wedding dress for a client.”
“I thought you were putting your shop on hiatus while you’re working full time.”
I turn around, setting the paper pattern I’m making aside on my desk. “They commissioned it in person. It’s someone Connor knows, so it could lead to more business later.” I’m not telling her it’s Serena, though. She’s always abided by my Dad’s wishes for me not to contact any of hisrealfamily.
She wanders in, hugging her robe tight around her, and takes a seat on my bed. “How much longer do you have at this office?”
“Two weeks.” That’s when Vivian comes back, at least. And after that, who knows? Maybe I really could get a business going. Connor said he’d look at any plan I make.
But that was before we started getting intimate. Would he still invest in me now? Or is it a conflict of interest?
“And then you’ll be back at home if I need you, right?”
I peek over at her on my bed, her curly red hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, deep grooves bracketing her mouth. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. I have no idea what’s going to happen with Dad cutting us off or not. Especially after I failed yet again at getting Connor to agree to buy the company.
Guilt splashes hot in the pit of my stomach at the reminder of yesterday. Having to make up that lie on the spot about ruining the nonexistent files on the buyout. Having to interrupt what should have been a beautiful, intimate moment between us at the end with a crude attempt at making good on my promise to Dad. If Connor had any idea what was going on in my head, he’d have run for the hills.
“Are you ready to talk about Tuesday night?” I ask Mom, not wanting to dwell on my predicament with Connor. “With your extra pills?” I’ve tried to broach the subject over the last few days, but she’s made excuses every time.