The Little Black Dress (Love in Las Vegas)

27. Only Time Will Tell

Sophie

As I walk into the casino, my heart starts to flutter. After a crazy Saturday night with the girls––and eventually, Jared––then waking up in his bed and having a cordial breakfast, I don’t know what to think. I don’t remember much from our time at the bar, but I do vaguely recall Ava and Zoey asking Jared some naughty questions.

After I texted him one, myself. Ugh. Tequila really is the devil.

But all of that isn’t what’s really got me on edge this morning. I could throw blame at the booze and pretend none of it mattered. No, what’s really driving me crazy is that impulsive kiss. Sure, it was just on the cheek. An expression of gratitude. Nothing more.

I pause, stopping in the middle of the carpeted aisle between the pit and the coffee shop. Squeezing my eyes closed, I inhale deeply, hold it for a few seconds, then exhale through my nose.

I can tell everyone with ears that the kiss meant nothing, but I can’t lie to myself. It may have started out as a simple gesture, but I can’t ignore the fact that my heart stuttered the moment my mouth touched his skin. I can’t pretend my lips didn’t burn for the next several minutes, aching to taste more of him. Or that I wasn’t disappointed he didn’t take charge of the moment and kiss me, for real.

I’m so fucking confused right now.

I hate him, don’t I? He’s a grouchy, pig-headed control freak with no qualms about ruining innocent people’s lives.

Heaving a sigh, I head into the coffee shop and place my order. While I wait, I roll the weekend over in my mind. Again.

I drunk-texted Jared, and he hauled ass to the bar to…what? Make sure I was safe? Then, when I’d had too much, he drove me to his place, gave up his bed to me, then cooked me breakfast. As we ate, he was civil, to say the least. One could even say friendly.

And after he drove me home, and I kissed his cheek, he didn’t act repulsed or annoyed. At all. He actually looked a little dumbstruck. And I have no idea how he’s going to act today, which is why I’m so fucking nervous.

Taking the carboard tray with two cups of coffee from the barista, I thank her and head for the elevator. Nodding at the security guard and giving a little wave to Sam when he catches my eye, I use my key card to call the elevator that will take me up to the executive suite.

To Jared.

When I get off the elevator, I head for my desk. Setting the drink carrier down, I tuck my purse into my bottom drawer and straighten. Taking a deep breath, I pull Jared’s coffee out of the carrier and walk to his door. Raising a hand, I knock with two knuckles and wait for a grumbled call to enter.

Steeling myself, I push open the door and step inside. Jared’s gaze locks onto me, and he leans back in his chair as I approach. Setting the cup down on his desk, I take a small step back and try not to fidget.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his eyes moving down my body before zipping back up to my face.

I dressed carefully this morning, choosing a sedate black pencil skirt, a soft pink blouse, and sensible black pumps. My hair is tied up in a slightly messy bun, but that couldn’t be helped. I had a flat-iron malfunction this morning, and I’d gone to bed with it still damp last night. I woke up to a hot mess of a rat’s nest, and this was the best I could do.

I wanted to look professional. Stoic. And like I was not trying to entice him. Not in the least.

Whatever that kiss on the cheek meant to me, Jared couldn’t think it was some kind of come-on. Not after I texted him to ask if he’s growly in bed. Fucking tequila. I blame that disgusting bitch for my behavior and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Jared is still watching me silently, and I feel my cheeks start to heat. Mumbling out a quick excuse to leave, I hurry toward the door. He doesn’t stop me.

Once his door is firmly closed, and I’m back at my desk, I can finally breathe. It seems as though Jared is going to let what happened go without comment, and that is fine with me.

Plucking my own coffee cup from the carrier, I take a long drink as my free hand wakes up my computer. I need to sort through Jared’s emails, add necessary items to his calendar, and respond to the ones I’m able to handle, myself.

My whole body goes still when I see a familiar name halfway down the page. Harrison Ainsley.

I know Scotty advised me to trash any correspondence from Jared’s ex-stepfather, but I don’t feel comfortable doing so without express consent from my boss. Scotty might’ve thought he was doing the right thing, but I can’t afford to make any mistakes right now. Not after all the ones I made this weekend.

Standing, I go to Jared’s door and knock softly. He calls for me to enter, his voice clear and crisp this time. I let myself in, my hands wringing as I approach his desk. His eyes don’t leave me for a second. I’m not even sure if he blinks.

“What’s wrong?” he asks when I stop in front of his desk without speaking.

“I was just going through your emails,” I say slowly, “and there’s one from Harrison Ainsley.”

His entire body stiffens, and I suddenly regret coming in here to ask him about it instead of just listening to Scotty. Taking a step back, I hold up my hands.

“I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I just wanted to ask you about it. Scotty told me to trash anything from that man without mentioning it to you.” I heave a breath. “I should’ve just done that. Sorry to bother you, sir.”