Page 63 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

But the words feel like they’re on the tip of my tongue, especially when I’m with Addy and Casey and we’re talking boys.

The two of them are loved up as all heck, but it’s almost becoming automatic to join their playful complaints about their men; I nearly chime in every time.

I almost tell them stories like how they tell stories.

And every time, I have to physically stop myself because we’re still a secret.

But then I consider, well…what if we weren’t?

What if we were exclusive, and not a secret and, like…

people would see us kiss in public or something…

or other things couples do? Addy and Noah touch a lot in public, I don’t think I’d do that.

But I wouldn’t hate the hungry looks and a little teasing, kind of like Casey and Jessie.

He practically undresses her at the table every time we’re all together.

It’s like he forgets anyone else is there.

I used to find it super gross, but now…well, I just think about Caleb devouring me with his eyes and I get all hot under the belt.

But you know what stops me? My dad trying to call me.

Yeah, that old chestnut. Still pulling his strings.

He’s let me off with avoiding his calls, but every time he calls, it’s like a bucket of ice water on my whole life.

Because there is a reason I have my rules.

The no-repeat, the nonexclusive, the no-sleepover—which still hasn’t been broken, thankfully—because I can’t have any of it.

And normally that reminder fixes me right up.

I can go back to my mask, and my borrowed life with a flirty smile and a mind full of arrogant confidence ready to take the world by its balls.

But lately? I think of all the stolen kisses, and the dimple in his cheek when he laughs properly, or the forlorn look in his eyes at night, when it’s dark and he stares out at the city.

The way he silently reaches for me, just to twine our fingers and to play with my curls when he’s lost in his mind.

The subtle presence of him and his scent that covers my entire bedroom at this point.

All of that? Has the realization that I can’t have it for real sinking in, making me feel empty. I feel…sad.

“Hey.” Steph knocking on my door startles a yelp out of me, pulling my attention from where it had wandered over to the view of the city. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” She gives me a gentle smile and I let go of a heavy breath.

“No, don’t be sorry. I zoned out for a second there. What is it?” I straighten up, pulling back my shoulders and returning her pleasant smile.

“Chris wants to see you in his office.” She smiles again, and then she’s gone.

Of course he does. I look up and pray for whatever holy goddess is up there to give me patience.

His report isn’t due until the end of the week.

It was only Monday, he honestly needed to relax.

But I close out of what I was doing and head for his office.

I’m busy going over the numbers that I know off the top of my head—because the report isn’t ready yet, obviously—as I make my way to his office.

I knock a couple of times, and when I hear him call out, I open the door, then close it behind me.

“Hey, what’s up?” I don’t hide the impatience in my tone. I have a lot to do and he is eating into precious office time.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Rosie.” He gives me a tight-lip smile and unease settles over me. Oooookay, well that isn’t unnerving at all.

I hesitate for a second but keep a tight grip on my mask as I take a seat and give him a look of pure confidence.

Even though I’m mentally going through every single decision I’ve made since being promoted, combing through every email, interaction, and communication of any kind.

But I find nothing he can use against me.

Because my work is immaculate. I know that, he knows that, the board sure as heck knows that…

so why do I get that itching feeling under my skin like the rug is about to be pulled from under me.

“There have been…things that have been brought to my attention.” Chris looks like he’s sweating right now, and I shift nervously on my seat as I try to remain calm and confident.

I know I haven’t done anything wrong, so this has to be something not that serious and Chris just has no idea how to deliver information.

“Things?” I press, because I’m not really having a great time hanging out in the purgatory of suspense right now. Chris sighs, running a hand across his jaw like he’s collecting his thoughts.

“I understand that you’ve entered into a…relationship with Caleb Smith from Karvelas Media?”

Woah, HUH?

Chris must see the astonished confusion across my face and takes my silence for confirmation. And though I’d like to rebut that we are not in a relationship, I’m so stunned at where this conversation is going that I can’t even form the words.

“Caleb and his team were in charge of interviewing and making recommendations for the EIC position of the new imprint. It has been made clear that your…” Chris closes his eyes for a beat, looking horribly uncomfortable as he continues.

“…intimacy with Caleb has given you an advantage in the selection process.”

I can feel my blood slowly begin to boil.

“I’m sorry…I’m confused…what?” I raise a hand to interrupt Chris, shaking my head to make sure I’m hearing this correctly.

“What does my personal life have to do with my job? I knew Caleb personally, but he’s a professional, and I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just accuse me of sleeping my way to a promotion.

” I let him see the ire in my eyes, the anger at his despicable words shining through my calm and composed words.

Chris straightens and clears his throat.

“Rosie, some people have expressed concerns over the selection process being unfair, and that your flair for dramatics in flaunting your new relationship in the office is unprofess?—”

“All right, let’s pause for a moment.” I take a breath to calm my racing heart so I don’t lash out.

Because I am Rosie Garcia, I am very much in control here.

I let my mind settle so I can be very, very clear.

“Let’s stop pretending that ‘some people’ isn’t Daniel, because you and I both know it is.

” His rapid blinking confirms my thoughts, and I make a silent vow to put roaches in his coffee tomorrow.

“Secondly, I have worked for you for over five years and worked my ass off for every one of them. I have exceeded every bar you’ve set.

I have my name on books that have won awards and earned this company award-winning authors in return.

And you’re about to wipe all that away and reduce me to someone who threw my clothes off to get where I am right now?

Are you really taking that path, Chris?” The anger is clear in my tone, not able to stop the rumble of my voice as it delivers the underlying threat there.

But despite my rage at the accusation—because, like fuck I’d need to use sex to get my promotion; my work ethic and performance speak for themselves—I’m really confused.

“Rosie—”

“No, before you start making excuses, where are you going with this? Why accuse me at all? What’s going on?

” I slowly stand and move closer so he has no choice but to look me right in the eye, which is exactly what he’s avoiding right now.

I click my fingers in the coward’s face to get his attention.

“Chris. Look me in the eye right now and tell me what is going on.”

He heaves another breath, and with defeated eyes, he turns to me. If I wasn’t busy trying to stop myself from throwing up from how quick my stomach drops, I’d almost recognize the apology in his eyes when he says, “Rosie, I have to remove you as editor in chief.”