Page 22 of Sweet Surrender

Sunlight gleamed off rich, dark brown hair by the window, looking out over Park Avenue. Across from her sat a vaguely familiar man—an actor in town from Hollywood, working on a new play, if memory served. The closer I got, the less I liked how he was looking at her. And the way she smiled at him.

Everything in the room went red, my head pounding harder with each step. They looked a hell of a lot more like a date than a business meeting. Whatever it was they wanted to call it was about to come to an end once I arrived at their table.

“Sienna. And there I was, thinking you dropped off the face of the earth.” I took a second to enjoy her flustered surprise—mouth falling open, eyes going wide before her gaze darted toward the douchebag sitting across from her.

“Noah Goldsmith, what a surprise. Have you met Jacob Dalton?” She recovered quickly. Ever the professional.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure.” And I wasn’t looking to have it, either. Rather than acknowledge him, I maintained focus on her. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Her brittle smile threatened to shatter her teeth. “I’m busy at the moment.”

“Get unbusy,” I muttered.

“Yo, do you need a minute?” Jacob asked.

Sienna and I were locked in a staring contest. She blinked first, something murderous washing over her face before she nodded. “Yes, I need to step outside for a minute. Sorry about this,” she told him, and the sight of her simpering smile felt like a knife to the chest.

Why? I wasn’t sure where it came from. Probably the fact that I’d spent days on her pay-no-mind list, only to find her flirting with this asshole.

She managed to wait until we were outside before whirling on me, folding her arms over a painfully hip jeans-and-tee outfit, very much unlike the suits she wore when we met. It was as if she wore a costume depending on the sort of client she was handling. “I am not going to do what I want to do right now,” she gritted out, glaring at me. “Because we don’t need any negative press, and dozens of people inside the restaurant could look out and see us. But please, don’t take that to mean I don’t want to kill you right now because I would like nothing more. What goes on in your head? How dare you?”

“It’s my fault you pushed me to this point?” When she scoffed, it was my turn to grind my teeth. “For days, you’ve been ducking me. I want an explanation.”

“And I want a house in the Maldives, but that doesn’t mean I’ll snap my fingers and get it. Things are moving fine. I am not going to hold your hand every second of the day. If that’s what you want, find yourself a babysitter.”

I barely heard her over my pounding heart. “And then! I find you sucking up to some skinny jean-wearing asshole with a man bun.”

“That asshole happens to be a client,” she hissed. The look she shot toward the windows made me roll my eyes. He couldn’t hear us out here.

“Do you flirt with all of your clients?”

“Do you?” she fired back. Of all times for my dick to wake up and pay attention. It had to be the anger and the energy being created. Otherwise, this was the least likely time for me to get a hard-on. She tossed her head, sending a wave of scent my way, distracting me from why I was there.

Her hair smelled like vanilla and some flower I couldn’t identify. I would gladly have buried my nose in those luscious waves to drink in the smell.

“Well?” She prompted, and I realized I’d been drifting off.

Nope. Definitely not the time to get confused by sweet-smelling hair. I clenched my jaw before growling out, “You will not ignore me from now on. Understood?”

“And you will not tell me what to do, nor will you tell me how to run my business. Understood?” She tossed her hair again when a gust of wind stirred it, making me groan softly. “I’m doing the work I’m contracted to do. Your article is coming out tomorrow, and it’s a goddamn love letter. What else do you want, Noah?”

My mouth opened and closed. What was it about the question that made it impossible to think? I want your attention. No, that didn’t sound right. What did I want? “I want my messages acknowledged, at the very least. I am not the man you ghost. Get it?”

“I’m trembling,” she deadpanned.

My fists clenched when a wave of rage tried to knock me on my ass. “Fuck off.”

“Is that any way to talk to me when I’m saving your ass?” With a withering look, she breezed past me on her way inside the restaurant. “Now, excuse me, I have another client whose hand needs to be held at the moment. If you want to talk to me, make an appointment.”

The only thing that kept my temper in check was knowing I was out on the street. I couldn’t have all of Park Avenue witnessing me throwing a fit. I doubted even someone with Sienna’s connections could help me out of a disaster like that.

My feet pounded the pavement while a burning sensation spread through my chest. Something about the way I walked or the look on my face made a pair of women step aside, almost flinching away from me. I must have looked like I was ready to commit murder, which wasn’t far from the way I felt.

Why did she have to be so fucking impossible? Why couldn’t she meet me halfway? Everything had to be a goddamn fight.

It would be different if she fell for my charm.

And that was the problem. Block after block, I walked, turning it over in my mind. I couldn’t charm her. It was impossible. She hated me too much to bend an inch, and I wasn’t used to that. I didn’t know how to deal with a woman I couldn’t work around. Hell, even my mother was a sucker when I turned on the charm.

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