“Damn, girl, bitch much?” C.J.’s voice feels too loud for my snooping, so I cross the conference room to slide the glass doors closed.
“Sorry, you caught me off-guard.”
“Banging the sizzling-hot lawyer you ditched me for Friday?”
“You said not to worry about you.” I walk to the conference table that doubles as my desk, my back to the doors.
“I love how you have such a phonographic memory when I’m being ironic.”
“Is phonographic memory a thing? I’m pretty sure you made it up.”
I can practically see C.J.’s hand wave through the line. “Whatever. Are you his secretary? Have you broken in his desk yet?”
As a matter of fact I did. A flash of what we did 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 prob
ably 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.