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He’s sleeping when I walk in and I tiptoe past his desk. Unfortunately, he has the ears of a hawk and snaps to attention.
“I’m up,” he blurts.
“There’s a little something on your cheek.” I scratch at the corner of my lip to indicate it.
Mosely swipes and an entire document goes fluttering.
His lips stretch into a thin line. “Thanks.” I walk into my office and he follows me, his footsteps thudding. “Did Yaya not enjoy the yacht?”
“I didn’t take her,” I grumble, grabbing a folder.
“Perhaps the live percussion band was a bit much. I did warn you that having real instruments on a boat is reminiscent of that scene inThe Titanic—”
“Let’s focus on work, Mosely.” My words escape cutting, sharp. I instantly regret my tone and sigh. “Please.”
He nods slowly, his eyes assessing.
“Where are we on Carmichael?”
We discuss our plan to get rid of the most troublesome member of the board.
“We have to do this quietly,” Mosely reminds me. “If Carmichael makes a stink in the public, it won’t reflect well on you.”
I nod absently and check my phone.
Still no message from Yaya.
That’s confirmation enough, isn’t it? She definitely spent the night with Henry.
My heart pains me, but I push that feeling deep down.
Work. That’s the only thing I can wrap my head around right now.
“He’s going to attack the Ru-Carpsel takeover first. It’s our most tenuous contract and the perfect place to send an arrow. We need to re-brand fast. What did the PR team suggest?”
Mosely yawns as he says, “They loved your idea of having a fashion show. We’re contacting new designers as we speak. The venue will be the easiest to sort out since we can use one of the company buildings. In terms of models, we’ve already placed Ms. Williams as the face of all our advertising campaigns and the casting crew will work around her.”
My eyebrows jump. “How did you know I asked Yaya to model in the fashion show?”
“We didn’t. The team took your, ahem, criticism to heart. They’re aware this isn’t just a rebrand for the company but for Miss Williams as well.”
I rub the back of my neck. Will Yayawantto participate in this fashion show now that she’s run off with Henry? Something tells me she would. The way she lit up when she talked about missing modeling couldn’t be faked.
But willIwant to work with Yaya if she’s with someone else?
My eyes slide to my blank cellphone again.
Still no new messages.
Mosely slides something across the desk. “Here’s a mock flyer.”
My pulse stops for a full second when I see a stunning picture of Yaya. She’s in a power pose, long, slender legs on display and eyes piercing through the camera. A mock date and time for the show is on display. The graphic design team did an impeccable job.
Mosely’s phone rings and I’m left alone with the flyer while he steps out to answer the call.
In the silence, I drape my fingers over Yaya’s face. “Why do you make loving you so difficult? How much longer do I keep fighting?”
Mosely huffs back into the room. “Sorry, sir.”