Page 23 of Forever Wild

“Technically, he was in both of our offices, since it’s an open floor plan. And”—she flicks Becca’s arm, causing the phone to jiggle nauseatingly—“if you want to be even more specific, he was here to find me, so I’d say he was in my office.”

I glance at my watch, realizing I’ve got three minutes until I need to be on my next meeting, a virtual one with our team in Vancouver. “I’ve got two minutes. I need one of you to tell me why the hell Jameo was in your office and why it matters to me.”

I get the same pitying look from both of them at the last comment as we all realize why it would matter to me. I may or may not have been in a pissy mood since they last saw me, due to the man.

“Okay, I can do this. Two minutes.” Izzy rolls her neck like she’s getting ready for a fight. “Jameson stopped by here approximately an hour ago looking for you. Apparently, he asked Tony for your number, since you seemed to know him, but he said he wasn’t allowed to give out members’ or their guests’ numbers per club rules. He did, however, mention my bio is on the club’s membership page, and it lists me as the owner of Flat Roads Consulting. He also happened to share the fact that we have an office in town. So Jameson and—honestly, it was crazy—Jameson came in with JT Johnson, Bryn. Two professional golfers were in our office at the same time. It was…”

“Guys!” I’m dying over here. “Please, for the love of God, tell me what happened.”

They both laugh. “Well, the gist of it is that he asked for your phone number, I typed it into his phone for him, and now the ball is in his court. Do you think he’ll call you?”

Holy cow. Jameson Walker asked for my number. He went out of his way to find someone who had my number, and now he’s going to reach out to me. I might actually see the man again. The thought has me both nauseous and giddy.

I hear my phone buzz with a work message. “Shit, I have to go. I will talk to you both later.”

“You have to tell us as soon as—” I cut Becca off, pounding the red End button while simultaneously pulling up my laptop.

As I settle into my chair, my mind keeps going back to Jameson. I don’t know why I’m so flustered about this. I’m a successful, attractive woman, and men asking for my number isn’t anything new. But there’s something about Jameson that’s different. Yes, he’s obviously very good-looking. He’s got those moss-green eyes which, I will admit, made me just a bit weak in the knees when I stared at them a little too long. And, yes, he has clearly been spending some time in the weight room. It’s hard to miss an ass like that when he’s on the tee box in front of you.

But it’s something more. He took my normal sass and threw it right back at me. There is also something strangely appealing about the way he dominated me on the golf course. Pulled zero punches for my sake, and I appreciate that.

Whatever it is, I can’t stop thinking about him. I know nothing can come from it, but something inside of me is begging me to at least give it a try.

My meeting goes on for what feels like hours, and I’m barely paying attention. Every time my phone buzzes, I hope it’s Jameson, but it’s just more work messages and a constant barrage of texts from Izzy and Becca asking for updates. By the time the meeting is finally over, it’s already late afternoon. This. This is why I can’t let myself fall for a guy. I need to be focused on my career right now, not wondering if someone is going to text me or not.

As I walk toward the elevators, I’m stopped by Kyle Davis, the director of marketing. “Bryn, can I see you in my office for a minute? I need a number of changes to the app to be made before a big marketing push rolls out next week,” he says, straightening his perfectly tailored suit sleeves.

Kyle is one of the few individuals at this company I truly cannot stand. I may go as far as to call him my nemesis. It’s not just his douchey face or the fact that he seems to have everyone fooled by his polished demeanor and weasel smile. No, I hate him because he frequently claims my ideas as his own and then still has the nerve to treat me like he is my boss rather than at the exact same level as me. Someday, when Tara retires as the head of the North America region, we are going to have a battle royale to determine who actually is the boss of the other. A battle I cannot—I will not—lose.

An hour later, I’m finally able to go home. As I leave Kyle’s office, ready to dump a cup of coffee straight in his arrogant face, I look down at my phone and see there’s a voicemail from an unknown number. Ugh. I have spotty service in the office, and my calls occasionally get sent straight to voicemail.

As I go to pull up the message, my phone vibrates with a text coming in.

Unknown Number

Hey, Bryn, this is Jameson Walker. I hope you don’t mind, I got your number from your sister today. I just wanted to say I had a lot of fun with you this weekend. Please disregard the voicemail I just left. I’m very aware that no one actually calls people anymore. It was a weird thing to do.

I laugh as I read the message, glad he gave me an out with the voicemail. There was zero chance that I was going to call him back.

I save his number in my phone and make my way down to the street. On the short walk to my hotel, I stop by one of my favorite restaurants to grab my takeout order.

Me

Hmm…Jameson Walker, you say. That name seems familiar for some reason. Are you the guy at the airport who asked for my number after trying to airdrop me a dick pic?

Jameson

Bold. Please tell me that did not actually happen to you.

Me

Just one of the small perks of flying the friendly skies as much as I do. I’m constantly inundated with the best the country has to offer in terms of humans, germs, and dicks.

Izzy

What a privileged life you live.

I wander into my hotel room, setting my takeout dinner on the little desk while pulling off my shoes. I decline yet another FaceTime from my sister, enjoying my conversation with Jameson too much to talk to Izzy right now. Plus, it’s fun to make her wait.

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