Page 43 of Sexy Bad Neighbor

Does that mean he told him? Shit. Before I can open my mouth to ask the question, his phone blares “Like a Virgin” by Madonna. He chuckles as he silences it and reads the text that popped onto the screen.

“James,” he explains. “He hates that ringtone.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“I gotta get upstairs.”

“Please don’t tell him.”

A dark cloud passes over his face and I almost recoil at how angry he looks, but then he shakes his head and says, “Unless you work in IT, I doubt your name will come up.”

“Thank you.” I try really hard not to let him see how relieved I am, as I point at the closed door to the boardroom. “I have an appointment, too. I’ll see you later.”

He strides away, and I watch, mesmerized, until he rounds the corner and disappears from my sight. I hear Phil call out to him by name, but then again, Paynter’s probably been here numerous times before if his brother owns the place. I’d say it’s amazing I’ve never run into him, but it’s really not. I’m always heads down when I’m here, always working. I don’t even socialize at the water cooler, and I never sit in the break room to eat lunch.

Yet more proof I am the woman I thought I wanted to be. The one I’m not sure I like anymore. Shaking my head, I reach for the door to the boardroom, twist the knob, and step inside.

“Chloe. What a pleasant surprise.”

I pause in the act of closing the door to stare at my worst nightmare, haloed by a brief flash of sunlight streaming in through the window, before a bank of clouds drowns everything in shadows. I can clearly see the blond hair, slightly wavy, perfectly groomed, coated with enough gel to keep the strands in place in anything less than a category four hurricane. Brown eyes, framed by lashes a few shades darker than his hair. They used to remind me of dark chocolate.

His face is probably as smooth as a baby’s butt and has an olive tone that hasn’t faded with summer. His navy suit is as impeccable as James’s and no doubt equally as expensive. Hell, they probably use the same tailor. He extends his hand as he walks toward me, and I see the flash of an overlarge gold ring, encrusted with a shining ruby. He won some contest when he was in college and the ring was the prize. It sparkles as if it’s new, even though he’s been out of college as long as I have.

“I didn’t realize you’d landed here.” My ex-boyfriend, Marcus, the snake who stole my promotion, glances around at the elegant, formal boardroom. I recognize that sharp look in his eye. He wants something, but I have no idea what it is. “This is the number one company in our industry.”

“I’m fully aware of that statistic.”

“Of course you would be. I suppose what I meant was, I didn’t expect to be meeting with you today. I requested a meet with one of the partners.”

“And here I am.” I spread my arms and give him my best fake smile, and I hope James backs me up if he and Marcus ever come face to face. Hell, maybe I will be partner before that ever happens.

His dark blond brows shoot up his forehead. Surprise isn’t a good look on him. “Partner? Already? Really? Have you even been here a year?”

“Yes, well, when there aren’t asshole boyfriends around to steal my promotions, I somehow manage to achieve them.”

“Ouch,” he says, slapping a hand against his chest as if I’ve shot him. If only.

“What do you want, Marcus? I have real meetings to prepare for.”

“You are as cold-blooded as I remember, aren’t you?”

“Colder,” I assure him, despite my earlier self-revelation. But he doesn’t need to know that I might be going soft. After all, maybe I’m not. Maybe this visit is all I needed to remind me of what’s important in my life. My plan. My goals. My career.

He gives my boots a disdainful look. “Your taste in footwear has certainly changed in the short time since we parted ways.”

I want to punch him. Only the fact that I am aware there are security cameras hidden in this room keeps me from doing so. Marcus is the type who would sue for something like that, and he’d hire lawyers who would demand to see the footage of our interaction.

Damn it.

“You could say my perspective has changed.” Quite recently, as a matter of fact. “So are we done here? Did you just want to see for yourself that I managed to achieve what you stole from me last year?”

“Slow down. I didn’t steal anything. I earned that promotion fair and square.”

The laugh that bursts from me echoes and bounces off the walls. When it ends on a snort, I slap my hand over my mouth and snicker. Marcus, on the other hand, purses his lips and crosses his arms over his chest while he waits for me to pull myself under control.

“Sorry,” I say. “That was possibly the best joke you’ve ever told in your life.”

“You really have changed, haven’t you?”

---