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I fold my arms. “So, what, they slam a door in my face and then call my advisor to twist the knife?”

Mrs. Ellis gives me a long, assessing look. “I said I’d speak with you before making any judgment. And for what it’s worth, I do believe you.”

I nod tightly, but the damage is already done. They wanted me humiliated. That interview wasn’t just a rejection. It was orchestrated. At least that’s how it feels to me. Maybe I’m reaching, maybe I just don’t want to believe I deserved what Lauren dished out.

Then again, what reason could there be to orchestrate anything like that? Yeah, I’m probably just making up excuses to ignore the reality that they just didn’t like me.

Chapter 5

Lorenzo

Having camerasinstalled in Piper’s apartment paid off when I heard her talking with Lena on the phone. The two of them were making plans to go to Velvet & Rye tonight, a Georgetown cocktail bar.

While she got ready, I had my assistant make a reservation for myself, and make sure the staff knew to seat the two women close enough that I would be able to overhear their conversations.

That was two hours ago, and I’ve beaten them here. I’m already seated in my booth, facing the door so I can see when they arrive. I barely have time to take the first sip of my whiskey before they enter.

My phone vibrates again, either with an incoming text or email. But I ignore it, determined to not let work get in the way of my growing obsession.

Piper walks with a grace so lethal it rearranges a man’s entire worldview. One look, and everything else fades. As I lock eyes with a guy who’s here with his girlfriend, or date, I bare my teeth, quietly telling him to look the fuck away. He does.

Light gray satin clings to my toy’s chest—tight enough to showcase the curve of her tits, loose enough to make you want to tear it off just to see what’s underneath. Thin straps slide over her shoulders, one already slipping slightly lower than the other. If I were closer, I’d fix it with my teeth.

Her black pants sit high on her hips, cinched at the waist, soft fabric hugging every inch of her thighs. Legs for fucking days, ending in thin black heels with gold at the ankle. They’re the kind of shoes that make me fantasize about bending her over a table while wearing nothing but high heels.

She doesn’t dress to be seen, and yet she eclipses every woman in the room without even trying. Every man in this place should be on his knees.Not because she’s flashy—but because she’s fucking devastating to look at.

Lena’s chattering animatedly as they’re following the waiter to their seat, weaving through the crowd. “Can we order right away?” Lena asks, stopping the waiter from retreating once they’re seated.

“Of course,” he agrees.

Piper purses her lips. “Come on, Lee. I don’t even know what I want yet.”

Lena beams at her, leaning toward the waiter with flirtation laced into every careless tilt of her head. “Two Cosmopolitans, please and thank you.” She shoots him a wink, making him stumble as he walks away.

I’m not going to deny that Lena’s attractive in an objective way. But she doesn’t hold a candle to my toy. Piper’s all grace, sexy curves, and untouchable allure. A woman like her doesn’t need to beg for attention. She already has it. And she doesn’t even know it.

The drinks arrive a few minutes later, glowing pink in their wide-rimmed glasses. Lena lifts hers immediately, clinking it gently against Piper’s.

“To us,” she says, too brightly.

Piper doesn’t smile. She picks up her glass like it’s heavier than it should be, fingers wrapped tight around the stem. I slowly sip my whiskey, never looking away from her.

Another vibration from my pocket. Persistently annoying—relentless, unwelcome. I don’t care who it is. They can wait.

Lena notices the tension oozing off her friend. “Okay,” she says, voice lowering just a bit. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Piper murmurs. She takes a cautious sip and winces.

“Bullshit,” Lena says cheerfully. “You’ve got that twitchy look, like your brain’s trying to crawl out through your eye sockets.”

I nearly smile.

Piper leans back, one hand brushing down her arm, nervous energy bleeding into every movement. “The interview with Lauren Chase was a disaster.”

“I gathered that. But how bad are we talking?”

“Bad,” Piper sighs. “She called Mrs. Ellis to complain about me. Who even does that?”