Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,9
be included on this all the way.”
“Not a problem,” I tell him, and then he looks at Jeff.
“I trust you will explain to him how important this is,” he says while the other guys stand and start to walk out. “If you will excuse us, we have to get on a plane.” He looks over at Carter and points a finger, and says, “SIXTY DAYS, Carter . . . don’t disappoint.” No one says anything while the other guys walk out of the room. With the click of the door, it’s suddenly just the four of us in the room.
“Okay,” Carter says, the smirk now missing from his cocky demeanor. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Perfect,” I say. Maybe I can actually do this. I mean, maybe he can be a civil person to work with.
“Let’s meet tomorrow,” he says. “Ten a.m. at my house.”
“Um.” I start to stutter and maybe suggest we just meet here when Sylvia answers.
“That is a great idea,” she says, and I look over at her, trying not to make my mouth hit the floor. “You two need to be on the same page.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Jeff says, and then he starts to get up. “So we will see you tomorrow at ten a.m.”
He said we, so I kind of breathe a little sigh of relief. “That sounds great.” Carter gets up now, grabbing his glasses, and just smiles at Sylvia.
“It’s great seeing you again.” When he turns to me, his eyes change and his smile changes, but I’m the only one who can see the shift. He’s the hunter, and I’m his prey. “Erin, see you tomorrow,” he says and turns to walk out of the room, and it’s only then I notice that I’m not breathing. I was holding my breath, for what I’m not sure. Maybe hoping he wouldn’t notice me at all.
“I don’t know why we couldn’t have the meeting here.” I look at Sylvia who just leans back in her chair.
“He isn’t going to be himself here,” she says, and I know she’s right. “He’s going to have a chip on his shoulder, but if he’s in his home, he’s going to be open more. The guy was just told via a legal and binding contract that he cannot have sex at all for the next sixty days. A man of his proclivities will more than likely have more than a chip on his shoulder. If not now, then in the very immediate future.”
“This is true.” Gathering the pictures, I get up and push my chair under the table. “How long should I expect to be at his house?”
She looks over at me, and I see her smirk. “Thirty days.” I don’t say anything when she walks past me out of the room, leaving me by myself.
I pack the stuff in my bag and walk out of the office at five, dragging my ass since I’ve been up for twelve hours and my brain is finally catching up to everything that just happened. I make my way home and sit on the couch, catching up on my DVR. I fall asleep with the remote in my hand and wake up to the blue screen. I see that it’s two thirty in the morning, so I make my way to my bed. Sinking into my king-size bed, I fall asleep again just as fast. When the alarm rings as the sun is coming up, I grab my phone and go through my routine.
I check Facebook to see what everyone was up to, then I slide over to Instagram to go through my stories there, and then I see that Carter made a personal story. I click the round circle with his picture, and it shows him sitting on a couch with a smirk. A movie playing on his screen.
There is a movie screen with the caption “Thursday night movie.”
See, that wasn’t so bad, I think to myself as I roll out of bed. I debate whether to make the bed. My mother is a stickler about making the bed. Something about a post she saw in the news about how the day just starts off better if one makes the bed. I just toss the covers over and pretend it looks done, and then I start my day. I take a quick shower while my coffee brews, then fix a to-go cup after I finish getting dressed. I have no idea what the dress code is for my meeting this morning,