Page 121 of Call Me Sir

The limo tears away, leaving a wake of paparazzi racing to their vehicles.

“Explain!” Tony pleads, pulling my attention from the desperate people following us.

Tony grips Cole’s hand.

“Ummm.”

I love the way he pales and stutters. It’s so different from his normal defiance. Eventually he hangs his head. “The boss is my plus one.”

Despite one or two of them seeing us kiss, everyone’s eyes are bulging from their heads.

I grab Cole’s hand to confirm what he’s announced to everyone. “HR knows, don’t worry.”

Cole’s head snaps up to me. “They do?”

Nodding, I press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand.

“Damn, that’s hot,” Tony says.

Face palming, Cole shakes his head then eventually gives Tony a little punch on the leg.

“I think we might be hounded all night,” I whisper to Cole.

“We can handle it,” he says calmly.

Where did that confidence come from?

Doesn’t matter, it’s hot and we are running late to the event we planned. Yet when our limo stops at the red carpet and all eyes turn toward me and Cole holding hands, it’s as if we were meant to be in the spotlight at this very moment.

Forty One

Cole

All the calm I had in the limo shrivels and dies like an unwatered plant as we step out from the limo. Sal takes my hand but holds the door and closes it after everyone’s left.

Rumi, Tony and Kahlid all lead the way; I don’t miss how Tony looks back at me in a mischievous way. He narrows his eyes playfully at me and I’m relieved that he’s not mad I kept this secret, though I get the sense he’s gonna ask me a million questions later about my secret relationship with the boss.

Paparazzi line each side of the carpet and like seagulls begging for fries, they ask us who we are and our attention.

Like it was planned, a vehicle tears into the parking lot and a young woman with a perky blond ponytail and shoulders squared back like she’s on a mission marches right up to us.

Sal grabs my hand and pulls me in so he’s got his arm around me.

“You were asking me about my father and why we’ve been estranged?”

Without missing a beat her inquisitive expression flips to a friendlier one. “Is this your date?”

“Yes,” he answers. His answer is curt.

Do they know each other?

“Who is this?” I whisper.

She holds out her hand to me and I take it, despite my reluctance. “Samantha Stoneswell.”

The name rings familiar but I can’t pin it to anything specific.

“Ask your questions,” Sal orders her.

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