One to Chase - Tia Louise Page 0,52

in Marcus’s office twice heats my entire body. “I’m the firm’s contract PR person,” I say with finality. “Strictly business.”

“You owe me some catch-up time. I demand a date-night do-over.”

Chewing the side of my lip, that’s probably not a bad idea if I’m trying to reestablish my footing. Distance, distraction, these are good things, especially when I find myself acting like a jealous girlfriend over a guy I just asked to give me space. God, I’m a mess.

“Okay, text me the deets, and I’ll meet you.”

“Yeah, you will!” C.J. is laughing, and I’m sure his voice is audible in the room. “And you’re going to tell me everything. Marcus Merritt is one hot piece of—”

Man standing in my office! I jump, ending the call at the speed of light.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” His brow is lined, and I can’t tell if he heard that last bit.

“Of course not! What’s up?” My voice is too high. I’m acting suspicious.

His sexy-hazel eyes meet mine, and my insides clench. Dammit. I’m supposed to be finding my feet, not drooling over how hot he is or remembering how many times he made me come over the weekend.

“I have to cancel that gala invitation.”

Disappointment? Seriously, Amy? I am not disappointed by what he just said.

“No problem! I completely understand!”

The same flash of anger I saw yesterday flickers in his eyes, and guilt bubbles in my chest.

“You understand.” His voice is short, and I clasp my now-trembling hands.

At the same time... Hold the phone. Shouldn’t I be the angry one in this scenario? He hasn’t given me any reason why he’s suddenly taking back an invitation he extended only a week ago to an event he claimed he’d forgotten.

Oh my god. I am truly insane.

“I wasn’t sure I wanted to go, remember?” I blink a smile and he gives me a tight, completely insincere smile in response.

“Right. Well, I’m sorry for the change in plans.”

The muscle in his jaw flexes. His hands are in his pockets, and he turns to the door. A brief pause, and he leaves. Just like that.

Collapsing against my desk, I let out an exhale and wring out my hands. I asked for time. I was honest about this thing between us being more than I can handle. Where has my independence gone? I don’t act this way.

That’s it. What just happened is precisely why I should not be with Marcus Merritt. He changes my behavior in ways I do not like. He steals my resolve and leaves me acting like an insecure college girl stalking his calendar. He provokes this gross feeling in my stomach that makes me want to follow whoever that beautiful woman is and spill my drink on her.

I am not the jealous type.

If Marcus is dating someone new—less than twenty-four hours after declaring his deep feelings for me—it’s a good thing. Yes? I leave when things get too serious. It’s what I do, and I don’t leave in order to be followed.

Only, Marcus isn’t following me.

He’s driving me crazy.

* * *

C.J.’s loud voice cuts through the crowd noise. “You wouldn’t think all these trust-fund babies would care about something as gauche as ladies’ night, and yet here it is.” He slaps the shiny wooden bar. “Busiest night of the week.”

We’re back at Studio O, and it’s teeming with twenty-somethings and members of the old crowd. I lean toward the bar to sip my third French 75. I’m drinking way too much. More Marcus Merritt bad influence.

“Back in the day, they’d never be caught dead encouraging such a low-rent gimmick,” I say.

“Don’t be a snob,” he sniffs, finishing his third Poinsettia. I’m a psychic, and I predict we’ll be calling a car to drive us home tonight. “The Chicago dating scene is outrageously expensive.”

“That’s nothing new.”

His eyebrow arches, and his voice goes loud. “What IS new is me being allowed to participate in ladies’ night.” He throws both hands up, victory-style, and I nod.

“Very forward-thinking of the owner.”

My bestie takes another sip, lowering his arms. “Clever is more like it. He knows I’ll spend more sending drinks to guys once I’m drunk and horny.”

I laugh, but his eyes narrow. Pushing his beige linen blazer back, his fist rests on a narrow hip clad in tight coral pants. “Speaking of horny. What’s this new development in your love life?”

“No new development.” I take another sip. “Let’s do a shot.”

“Stop distracting me and spill.”

“I’m serious. It’s nothing. You know how I am.”

I’m about to say more when I’m cut