“Yes, sir.” I begin to walk to the door.
“Oh, and Emily,” he calls in his commanding voice.
I turn.
“I will be announcing today that we are in a relationship.”
I frown as I stare at him. Confusion swirls around in my head. “Why?”
“Because I hate speculation.” He pauses as his eyes hold mine. “And I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
I stare at him. Huh?
His.
I have no words . . . rendered completely speechless. “Oh.” I stare at him. “Okay?” I turn and walk toward the foyer. “Goodbye,” I mutter, distracted.
Either Jameson Miles has gone completely crazy, or I am in a parallel universe.
Two hours later, I sit and stare at my computer. I was too freaked out to talk about this morning’s Twilight Zone encounter in Jameson’s office when I returned. It’s taken me this long to get my head around what he said.
I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s obviously jet lagged to holy hell and is suffering some kind of delusion. My phone dances across my desk, and my favorite letter appears.
J.
I smile as I answer. “Hello, Mr. Miles.”
“How’s my girl?” his sexy voice purrs down the line.
“Are you feeling all right?” I frown.
“I’m feeling great. Why?”
“You just seem very . . .” I pause as I think of the right word. “Odd.”
He laughs his deep velvety laugh, and I feel it all the way to my bones. “I don’t feel odd.”
“You’re acting odd.”
“I’m just calling to tell you that we have a dinner tomorrow night.”
“What dinner?”
“The Media Awards,” he replies calmly.
“The Media Awards,” I repeat.
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
I look around at my two work friends, who are completely oblivious to the crazy shit that’s coming out of my running partner’s mouth. “Where is it?”
“Here in New York. My entire family will be there. You’ll get to meet everyone.”
My eyes widen in horror. “Well, what’s the dress code?”
“Black tie.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “I don’t have any evening dresses here,” I stammer. I don’t have any at home either, but he doesn’t need to know that.