Page 9 of Forgive You

It only fuels mine, and he fucking deserves it. He’s the one who’s pushing us in this direction. I’m just playing his game.

Let’s go.

“What do you think it will look like if you tell Edward you won’t work with me because of a personal vendetta? Bet that would be a great look for Spencer Sports.” My voice is calm and collected, intended to piss him off even more. “Barely six months in, and already Jason Spencer is having issues with Brand Managers less qualified than he is.”

He snorts. “You got that right.”

I ignore his dig. “If the following weeks go as planned and we can clean up Ford’s reputation, I’m authorized to offer him a five-million-dollar deal for the next two years.”

Jason’s eyebrows hitch up a tad, telling me that’s a higher number than he expected before it rapidly returns to the frown he was sporting. “I’ll get him another deal.”

I snicker. No, he won’t.

“No athlete in his right mind will turn down a five-million-dollar deal with NVS, especially one who needs to desperately wash up his reputation. How many years does Ford have left in the NHL with the amount of bad press he’s gathering left and right? One? Maybe two?” I don’t even try to hide the smugness in my tone, because you know what? He’s asking for it.

“So, in my opinion, you have two options. One, you and I can establish a civil working relationship that will benefit Ford, NVS, andSpencerSports. Two, you go somewhere else, Ford finds out you passed on a five-million-dollar deal and he fires you before you got Spencer Sports where you want it to be.”

He might think I’m evil, but the reality is, I want him to succeed. I want him to become the biggest agency in the country, representing athletes all over the world.

So, I’ll do whatever it takes to make him push his hate for me aside and do what’s best for him. Even if that ticks him off.

With nostrils flaring, he lets out a grunt as his lip lifts in a deep snarl.

“You’re going to regret every minute of the next six weeks,” he says, as he finally walks away. “I promise you.”

I exhale, the air almost painfully erupting from my lungs. “What happened to the guy who was my friend since we were teenagers?”

With a pinched expression, our eyes connect, more hurt wrinkling the skin around his eyes. “He left when you fucked him over.”

I wince when he slams the door behind him, feeling like my heart is being run over by a truck, my gaze crammed shut.

“Don’t I fucking know it.”

3

There is not a cell in my body that looks forward to trading my white hoodie and yoga pants for the gold sequined cocktail dress hanging on my closet door.

It’s gorgeous, but it’s also a thorn in my side as it stares back at me.

Is it too late to call in sick?

My back settles into the pink soft duvet on my twin bed, a blueI Love LAmug filled to the rim with green tea and honey. The ceramic warms my palm, but it does nothing for the nerves swirling around in my belly.

I have to face Jason tonight.

After our meeting on Monday, it took me two days and a whole lot of yoga to get the edge out of my body, but that same nervous feeling has been crawling back up my spine since I woke up this morning.

I should have poured myself a glass of wine instead.

But I need to keep my head clear.

I wish we could go back to how it used to be between Jason and me. That undeniable trust that I had with him but lacked with Jacob is now completely destroyed.

He was my hero until I became his villain.

With my head resting on one of my pink plush pillows, I push a few buttons on my phone until a dial tone ricochets through my tiny bedroom and I meet my own gaze in the camera. I set another pillow on my lap, feet on the comforter and knees in the air before placing my phone on top of the soft cushion until a pretty face of betrayal pops up.

There’s the little traitor.

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