The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

“Of course I can.”

I look him straight in the eye. “Do it, then.”

“What?”

“Tell me that you don’t have feelings for me. Tell me you have never thought of me once over the last year and that you never kept my scarf.”

He narrows his eyes in anger.

“Like I thought,” I huff as I turn my attention back out the window.

“I wondered how long it would be until that snarky bitch reared her ugly head,” he mutters under his breath.

“Ha,” I huff. “At least that bitch knows what she wants.”

“And what’s that?” he sneers.

“A man; that’s what she wants—one who isn’t afraid of his feelings.”

“Go to hell,” he whispers. “Just stop talking. You’re stressing me the fuck out with all your shit. If I wanted a psychiatrist, I would date one.”

I smirk as I look out the window. “We’re not dating, Jameson. We’re just fucking. Get it right.”

“You go out with Ava trolling for men tonight, and we won’t even be doing that.”

“Excuse me?” I snap as my anger starts to simmer. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

His eyes hold mine. “I can. And I just did.”

“Jameson.” I pause as I try to think of a calm and intelligent reply. “I would never sleep with someone behind your back—you know that. But you can’t tell me where I’m allowed to go. Even if you loved me, which you don’t, I wouldn’t allow you to dictate what I can do.”

“I mean it.”

“Go to hell.” The car pulls up around the corner at my spot where I get out, and I open the door in a rush.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he snaps as I climb out.

I lean back into the car. “Yeah, wait for me. I’ll be there when hell freezes over.” I slam the door in a rush.

The limo pulls out and slowly drives down the road toward the Miles Media building, and I inhale to try to calm my furiously beating heart.

Stupid fucking jerk.

“Wonder what this is about?” Molly frowns as she reads the news from her computer.

“What what’s about?” I reply as I type.

“It says here that Miles Media is having crisis meetings today with shareholders and that more meetings are scheduled in London next week.”

My heart drops; Jameson’s going to London next week. “What?”

She turns her computer screen to face me, and I read the financial reviews story on the Miles Media stock prices slump. I lean my face onto my hand as I re

ad on.

God . . . what a nightmare. I look over and see Jake laughing with one of the girls in her cubicle as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. What is that stupid idiot doing? Is he even investigating the damn case at all?

Ugh, honestly, I think he’s the wrong man for the job. No investigating seems to be getting done, although I’m sure he has the phone numbers of every single girl on the floor. Should I tell him my thoughts about Hayden? No, it’s only a hunch with no real evidence. I’m testing the theory today.