girl in the elevator. No one but she and I.
“Good,” I rumble, tearing my gaze from her mouth. “I need you…to work.”
More people squeeze into the elevator with us. On instinct, I wrap an arm around her, pulling her against me to make room. Her breath hitches when my palm settles just above her ass.
“Foster…” She tilts her head up again, confusion flickering in her eyes. “What are you doing?”
Touching you.
Craving you.
Wanting you.
I study her up close. The barely visible freckles hidden beneath her makeup. Tiny slivers of navy cutting through the sea of green in her eyes. A cute nose that suits her. And those lips. Goddamn those lips. Full and glistening pink.
“Nothing.” Fucking liar. “Just being a gentleman and walking you out as promised.”
The elevator doors open at the ground floor, spilling people out into the lobby, leaving the two of us with her trapped in my grasp. I reluctantly release her.
We step out of the elevator and she starts forward before she glances over her shoulder at me, disappointment gleaming in her eyes.
“Goodbye, Foster.”
“Enjoy your things, Miss Parker.”
Unbelievable.
She told the truth…just not all of it.
Chelsea really was going on a date. It’s the who with that has my blood boiling with fury.
Ryan.
She knows he’s screwing me over and yet here she fucking is, looking ready to screw him instead.
Calm down, asshole, they’re just talking.
I attempt to quell my anger as I sip on a glass of Sullivan’s Cove single malt whiskey, watching Chelsea laugh from afar at whatever it is Ryan’s saying to her. The whiskey only acts like an accelerant on my flames of rage.
Earlier, after she’d left, I did what any good employer would do when his employee left. I accessed her Outlook calendar to find out where she really was going. Imagine my fucking surprise to see tonight was blocked out with “drinks with Ryan.”
What she failed to add in were…
Laughs with Ryan.
Flirty smiles with Ryan.
Frequent touches with Ryan.
A goddamn date with Ryan.
“Sir?” the bartender asks, interrupting my fiery thoughts. “Another?”
I grunt and nod. When he returns, he lingers, pity on his face.
“What?” I growl, pinning him with a glare.
“Want to talk about it?”
Is he fucking kidding me right now? Does this look like a therapy session?
A laugh tumbles out of him, clearly sensing the vehemence rolling off me. “Chill, man, I’m only trying to help. Is she your daughter? Trust me. Mine is only thirteen, but sometimes you gotta let them make their own decision or they’ll end up hating you for it.”
My daughter?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I clip out, tossing back the contents of my glass. “She’s not my daughter.”
Unshaken by my surly attitude, he continues on with a wide grin on his face. “Ex-lover? In that case, go rip that guy’s balls off for kissing your girl.”
I snap my gaze Chelsea’s way, ready to explode. She’s not kissing him, though. They’re hugging. After a wave of her fingers at him, she walks away from the booth they were sharing. The motherfucker checks out her ass long enough I have the urge to ram my fist through his lying face.
I toss down a wad of bills, mutter out a thanks to the bartender, and then slip through the crowd on a mission to find Chelsea.
We need to talk.
I’m dying to know why in the hell she would go out with that asshole knowing everything he’s done to me.
Is this all to get back at me for dicking her around?
My brain can’t wrap its head around that thought. She’s smart and sassy and sweet—certainly not the vindictive type. Yes, I’ve been an asshole, but she wouldn’t stick it to me with Ryan just to piss me off.
Why then?
I need to know.
Once outside, I catch a glimpse of her hurrying down the sidewalk. Men of all ages stop to gawk at my pretty girl. Tonight, she’s more than pretty, though, she’s a fucking goddess. She really did do things after work and before drinks with Ryan because her hair is in soft golden waves, unlike the sleek tresses earlier at work. She exchanged her business attire for a sexy, fitted black dress that shows off every damn curve on her young, tight body. The black pumps she’s wearing make her tower over most average-height men and make her legs seem a mile long.
Fuck, I want this girl.
I need her, goddammit.
Would I still want and need her if I discovered she betrayed me by telling Ryan I’m on to his duplicitous ways?
Yes.
I’m