Want Me (Mess with Me 4)

ed in his world of formulas and equations. If it weren’t for my mother, I think he’d happily stay there forever.

My mom walks me to the door. “You’re in quite a rush today.”

“I need to get back to the office and finish what I was working on. I don’t want to be held up this evening.” Although I usually avoid telling my mother stuff like this because she gets way too excited, I can’t help it. I have to tell someone. “Law said he planned something special for tonight. I think he’s planning to propose.”

My mom places a hand over her heart. “Oh, Anya. You really think so? He’s such a good man.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

I’m usually not so insecure but after the dumpster fire of my last relationship, it’s hard to trust my own judgment. But Law is nothing like the men I’ve known before. Maybe it’s because he’s older but he knows what he wants and he doesn’t play games. I can count on him.

“He is, sweetie. That man loves you. I can tell.”

“For once I got it exactly right.”

She pulls me into a gentle hug. “Be careful out there, sweetheart.”

She says the same thing every time I leave. Back when my father still went to work, she used to say it to him every morning.

“I will. Love you, Mom.”

Right before the door closes behind me, I hear her call out, “Call me after! I want to hear every detail!”

I leave with a smile on my face. My mom is one hundred percent going to take over the wedding planning. She’ll probably drive me crazy inside of a month but it’ll give her something to think about other than doctors, medicine and frustration.

After everything she’s been through over the past couple of years, it’ll be nice to have something fun to talk about with my mother again.

3

LAW

After closing the door to my office, I rest my head against the wood. It’s been a long-ass day and it’s nowhere near over.

Such is the gift and curse of being the boss.

Not that I don’t love it. Owning my own marketing agency has been the culmination of a lifelong dream. I’m not so far removed that I don’t remember the early days, eating ramen on the floor of my shitty apartment because I’d rather starve than ask my father for money. I’d worked long hours at my first marketing job, determined to learn everything I could and prove my worth. I had no way of knowing if it would even be worth it back then but I still showed up every day, burning with the drive to prove myself. To carve out a space in this industry that no one could take away.

Now I’m here and have discovered that the fear of losing it all never goes away. In fact, it’s only worse because now I have an audience. My failures have the potential to take out a whole company of faithful employees who are counting on me to lead them.

The phone on my desk rings but I ignore it. After the meeting I just finished, I deserve to be off grid for a bit. New client meetings are usually easy but every once in a while you get one of those clients. The ones you just know will be more trouble than they’re worth. But when you’re in business, you have to weigh the potential payday against the trouble.

Big clients don’t come around every day and this client alone could cover the agency’s payroll for two years.

Minimum.

All I have to do is ignore the little voice in the back of my head. The one screaming run away.

Frustrated, I scrub a hand through my hair. The last time I ignored my instincts it turned out to be a mistake. As always, the mental image of Gareth Whittington brings a scowl to my face. On paper, his business seemed sound and although adult entertainment is considered a gray area for a lot of people, I was open to the idea of branching out. It wasn’t the nature of his business that gave me pause.

It was him.

I didn’t want to work for someone who seemed to have no moral lines. The girls in his raunchy videos were all legal but I got the distinct sense that if they hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have cared.

That immediately put him in my hell-no category.

Elizabeth convinced me I was being too cautious. It was something she’d teased me about all too often. In the beginning, she’d found it charming.

Don’t be such a grandpa, she’d say with a smile.