Page 90 of The Arrogant One

Lockhart

You make me so fucking hard. I’m about to lock my door and jerk off to the sight of you in my pool last night. And the shower we took after. And the way I woke you this morning with my mouth on your pussy.

I shook my head, trying to find the air I’d just released, my lungs so tight that I didn’t think I could get any in. “Are you talking full reviews of Charred and Musik or little glimpses of my experience there?”

“I like the idea of a glimpse, but it must include your opinion. Consider it a shortened review with photos. Less fluff for those, more meat. We’ll post the review of Charred next week, the following week will be a review of Musik, and the week after will be your full review of Toro.”

“What about the two restaurants that are on my schedule for the next two weeks? Do you still want me to go to them? And write the reviews? Or are we pausing those and only focusing on The Weston Group?”

Lockhart

Tell me I get to see you tonight?

“Yes, I would still like you to go to the others,” my boss said. “For those weeks, we’ll be sharing two of your posts—one from The Weston Group outing and the other from where you are scheduled to eat.” He paused. “I understand that, during those weeks, you’ll be working forSeenfor two evenings when wenormally only have you for one. And I know that means double the work. You will be heavily compensated for this, Sadie.”

I wasn’t worried about that, nor was I worried about the amount of work he was putting on me.

I could handle it.

Charred wasn’t a huge issue either. I’d recently been. I took plenty of photos. The meal had been superior—from the bread to the espresso martini I had during dessert, a vast improvement from the one I’d had at the Manhattan location of Charred—which meant I could use what I already had and didn’t have to go back.

My review would be stellar, so at least when it came to that restaurant, I could breathe a sigh of relief.

But at Musik and Toro, I didn’t know if my experiences would be the same.

“I’ll get it all done,” I assured him. “No worries.”

“Like I said, I’m going to run two of your articles per week. Charred and Musik will run mid-week. If you could get me the write-ups after this weekend for Charred and next weekend for Musik, that would be best.”

“I’m on it.”

Even though my stomach said otherwise.

“Sadie?”

My pen tapped the blank paper. “Yeah?”

“I told you the viewership ofSeenwas up twelve percent after your article on Horned. When we run the articles on The Weston Group, with their reputation and following and with the way we’re building anticipation, our numbers are going to increase even more.”

The spit I swallowed felt like acid going down my throat. “I know.”

“What I’m saying is, this isn’t going to be huge. This is going to be massive—forSeenand for you. The foodies of LAand all throughout the state are going to react, and this will end up affecting every location of Charred across the globe and the other locations of Toro as well as the ones that are slated to open this year.”

My stomach was now churning. “It most certainly will.”

“This will probably be the largest feature you’ll ever write forSeen. Remember that—when you’re writing and when you’re taking photographs. This is the one, Sadie, the one that really matters.”

If he was expecting a response, I didn’t have one to give him.

“We’ll talk soon,” he said, and he hung up.

My screen didn’t go dark. It showed the last message from Lockhart.

I wanted to comment on how hot it was to have the image of him jerking off to me in my head. I wanted to tell him I wished I could stop by his office and pay him a visit so he wouldn’t have to do anything himself, that I’d be there to take care of him.

But I couldn’t.

I … felt too sick to type those words.