Page 96 of The Arrogant One

“Is that happening?” I stopped before I said another word.

A girlfriend would ask him that question, I told myself. But my brain was having a hard time differentiating what Dear Foodie wanted to know about LA’s food scene and what Sadie would inquire as a caring partner.

God, this was getting more complicated by the second.

“We’ll be submitting the offer in a couple of days,” he replied. “The paperwork is still with our attorney.”

“Do you think it’ll end up being yours?”

He chuckled. “When I want something—when my family wants something, we get it. Not just because we have the money to buy it, but because we know how to work things in our favor.” He tilted my face up to look at him. “I think you’ve experienced some of that … when it came to you and how badly I wanted you.”

I smiled. “You certainly know how to work it.” I winked.

He kissed me.

And as my hair flew around both of our faces, he deepened that kiss.

“You’re lucky we’re in public right now and we’re sharing the beach with others.” He kept his mouth close, letting me feel the words against my lips as he murmured them.

“I do have a back seat, you know.”

He laughed. “Don’t entice me.” He lifted my hand and held my fingers near his face, my skin getting small, brief hints of his scruff. “Tell me something—are you free next Saturday?”

Next Saturday, next Saturday.

Why did that date sound familiar?

And then it clicked.

“I have plans with Bryn. Why?” I popped a grape into my mouth.

“One of my friends, Brady, is coming in for the weekend. We’re all going to Beck’s game and then heading out from there. I want you to come.”

“Shit, I wish I could. That does sound like fun.”

“Bring Bryn. We have plenty of room in the suite.”

I knew Bryn would want me to accept Lockhart’s offer, but that was the only night I could go to Musik before the article was due. The problem with going to the game was that Bryn and I would get roped into going out with them after—besides, I’d want to go out with them—and I couldn’t let that happen when I had work responsibilities.

Even though this was such a tempting offer, this was one of those situations where I had to choose work over pleasure, and I hated to do it, but it was necessary.

“I would love that so much, and so would Bryn, but it’s a work thing”—I didn’t know why I’d said that and instantly wished I hadn’t—“and I can’t get out of it.”

“Working on a Saturday night?” He kissed across the backof my hand, his lips as soft as the pressure he used. “I guess social media never shuts off.”

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t.”

The guilt. It wasn’t just nipping away at me. It was gnawing.

“Is it normal for you to work on a Saturday?”

I guzzled half the champagne and set the plastic flute back in the sand. “Not usually.” I held my breath while I said, “Why do you ask?”

“I have some places I want to travel to, and I want to take you with me. I’m trying to determine how flexible your schedule is to see if I can drag you away for a week.”

A week of travel.

With Lockhart.