I stayed put, but I refused to look up into those eyes. Not even for a moment. They would only derail me, and this was one argument I could not afford to lose.
It wasn’t just that he’d asked me to replace Ella. To pretend to be his girlfriend in the eyes of the world for three more months until the merger. It wasn’t just that he was drunk, and I was drunk. It wasn’t just that we’d been grinding up against each other in a nightclub in Spain. It wasn’t even that he’d been about to kiss me. (Although...what the fuck?!)
It was that I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wasn’t going to back down.
It simply wasn’t in his nature. He would do whatever it took, say whatever he needed to, hold out for however long was required until he got his way.
And that...was career suicide.
“You know I can’t do that, Nick.” My breath came out shallow and quick, the taste of sugared tequila was hanging on my tongue. “I could never do that.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
“Why not? You asked me to do it. Why won’t you?”
The words fired out sharp and precise. Not an ounce of hesitation or leniency. It was that damn Oxford debate team again. Why couldn’t he have picked up a less useful skill?
“I didn’t ask you to do it,” I countered quickly, knowing all the while that it wasn’t entirely true. “Your father asked you to do it. For the company. For the board—”
“But you know I don’t care about any of those things,” he replied evenly. “You were the one who asked me. I did it, because the request came from you.”
“Nick—”
“And now I’m asking.” In one swift movement, he tilted up my chin. Forced me to look into those impossible eyes after all. “I’m asking you to do this for me.”
An involuntary shiver tingled down my spine, and I took a deliberate step back, creating a well-needed barrier of space between the two of us.
“That’s not fair,” I said quietly.
For the first time, he smiled—incredulous as it was.
“How is it not fair? I’m literally asking exactly the same thing you asked of me—”
“It’s not fair because that’s my job, Nick,” I fired back. It was much colder outside than it was in the club, and I folded my arms protectively across my chest, trying not to tremble. “You are the one in the public eye—not me. Of course you would be the one asked to do these sorts of things. None of that has anything to do with me. I handle the spin, nothing else—”
“Oh—come on.” The smile faded as he looked at me coolly. “You handle the spin and nothing else? You’re really not any more invested than that?”
Um...what?!
For a second, both of us froze, thinking back to our almost kiss. A rush of color flooded his cheeks, and he was quick to clarify.
“We’re friends, Abby. You’re one of my closest friends in the world. That’s why I’m asking you. Do it as my friend, as well as my publicist.” He ran a hand back through his hair and added as a convincing afterthought, “I can’t handle another Ella. I won’t do it.”
“It doesn’t have to be another Ella,” I said quickly. “We can find you someone that you’ll actually enjoy spending time with. Someone better suited. But it sure as hell can’t be me.”
“And why not?” he asked again, refusing to back down.
I threw up my hands, unable to believe we were actually having this conversation on the streets of Barcelona. Just a stone’s throw away from the airport.
“For so many reasons! Nick, the board is looking for a certain kind of girl, you of all people know that. One with a certain kind of pedigree, or job, or appearance, or—”
Nick raised a hand to silence me.
“First of all, pedigree obviously doesn’t mean shit, judging by Ella Campbell.”
He let that hang for a moment, before he started ticking things off—one by one.
“You have a college degree, test scores as high as mine, and enough wit and charm to dazzle whatever room you walk into. You came from nothing and still rose to the top of your field. You’ve put up with my shit for two years—which is enough to qualify you right there. But you’re also dedicated, hard-working, empathetic, and kind.”