Page 55 of Total Creative Control

Wrangling his expression into what he hoped was an indifferent smile, he said, “Yeah. Later,” and walked away.

Chapter Fourteen

Lewis

Lewis stared after Aaron, frowning. He’d seemed… had he beenannoyed?

“Aaron mentioned he’s your PA.”

Lewis turned back to Hippolyta, who was gazing at him in her disconcertingly direct way.

“Yup,” he confirmed, popping the ‘p’. It was a pretty juvenile way of letting her know he didn’t really want to talk to her. She didn’t look offended, though. In fact, she looked faintly amused, and somehow that was worse.

“Look,” he said tightly. “I think I’m done with the whole workshop thing for one day.”

She nodded. “I understand. Neither of us was expecting what happened to you today.”

“Um, not sure what you think happened, but—”

“Please,” she said gently, settling her hand on his forearm. “Don’t pretend. We both know you experienced something intense. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

“No offence,” he interjected. “But maybe you should go peddle this to someone who wants to hear it? Charlie seems to lap it all up. As does that pea brained woman he’s been panting after all morning.”

Hippolyta met his gaze. “I’m not peddling anything, Lewis. I just wanted to check you were all right.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m fine. Fucking dandy, actually.”

“Are you sure about that? It seemed to me you were experiencing an intense memory flashback. Has that ever happened to you before?”

“I don’t know,” he said irritably, before honesty compelled him to add, “Maybe. A long time ago. I’m fine now.” He rubbed at his shoulder. “I just need some painkillers.”

Hippolyta’s gaze moved over his face. At last, she nodded. “Okay. I just wanted to let you know that I was very clear with Charles that today’s group were to be given information about what the workshop would entail well in advance. I’m sorry that didn’t happen. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen with anyone else in future.”

Lewis sighed. “It’s fine. The truth is it wouldn’t have made any difference. I’d still have had to do it.”

She frowned. “Why?”

Lewis laughed without humour. “Because Charlie always gets what he wants.”

“No, he doesn’t,” she said firmly. “Youcansay no to him, you know.”

“You think?”

“I know. He wanted me to keep going with the workshop as planned, but I refused.”

“Didn’t he threaten not to pay you?”

“Of course. He threw quite the tantrum.” She laughed. “I’m not getting a penny, apparently.”

“What?” Weirdly, he found himself feeling affronted on her behalf. “That’s outrageous!”

She shrugged. “I’m chalking it up to experience.”

Lewis shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just”—she fished in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper—“take this. In case you have another of those episodes and decide you want to speak to someone about it.”

He opened it up. She’d written, “Grace Collins, Chartered Psychologist / CBT therapist” and scribbled a number and email below.