Page 33 of The Southern Thirst Trap

“Two. Weeks.” I sit on the edge of the chair and fume that I have to be here at all when I just want to talk to Zander.

“Excuse me?” he says, taking his own seat next to me.

“We were in the Maldives for two weeks. Yes, he said a lot of pretty things and made a lot of promises that now feel like chewing broken glass to think about, but that’s beside the point. I need to speak to him about another matter altogether.”

Hayes shows genuine interest for the first time, his green gaze sharpening and taking my measure again, as if I surprised him. “Well, it seems you’ve already had more time with Zander than he’s allowed with anyone else, so consider yourself lucky. Or unlucky, as it is. I think he’s an insufferable asshole, so I apologize that you had to spend that much time alone with him. I really don't envy you.”

Despite the situation, I bark out a laugh, and get what I imagine is a rare smile from Hayes, as well. “He admitted to being an entirely different person on the trip, so I think I was shown someone other than who you’re used to,” I admit. “Maybe he treated me better. I guess I’ll never know, now. But I do need to talk to him. I have to tell him something incredibly important. Then I swear I’m done with him for good. You will never see or hear from me again if that’s what he wants.”

He shakes his head almost sadly and lets out a deep breath. “Listen, Ms. Sorenson, you seem smarter than most, so I’m going to level with you and just lay this out. We're here to have you sign this non-disclosure agreement and come to an understanding where my brother is concerned. He wants nothing to do with you, as hard as that is to hear, and would prefer not to deal with the aftermath of his hookups. He won’t be speaking with you today or at any time in the future. I get the lovely job of explaining that Zander is a complete moron, we can both agree he is an idiot who needs to learn how to treat women, and then I will escort you out once you understand that under no circumstances are you to contact him or come here again.”

“You can’t be serious,” I say, taken aback by his bluntness. “Ihaveto speak with him. It’s imperative,” I insist.

“We are prepared to offer you a million dollars to make it easier to stay away from Zander, as well as Olympus International. Part of the NDA here stipulates the length of time and—”

“I don't want your fucking money,” I blurt, cutting him off, outraged that he thinks I’m here looking for a handout, like I’m some whore that needs payment for services rendered. “I’m not signing anything. I have no intention of saying anything to anyone. All I came here to do was speak to Zander. I have something incredibly important and time-sensitive I need to tell him. I don't need money and I’m not looking for him to date me or anything otherwise. You are unbelievable and this is so fucked.”

“You will sign the NDA,” he says, looking bored with my outburst, but his eyes are sharp, cunning, and I know I should be scared. Instead, it pisses me off that he thinks he can order me around.

“No, actually, I won’t. That document would only be legally binding if both parties agreed to sign it retroactively. I do not agree. So you and Zander and your whole family can fuck right off.” I scatter the stack of papers across the table and floor as I stand and stalk out of the conference room. I asked my manager casually about NDAs when I got back from my trip, wondering why Zander hadn’t made me sign one before we left. It was quite illuminating and turned out to be helpful now.

I stab the button for the elevator and hope like hell the car will go down without needing a special pass. I feel, rather than hear, Hayes come up behind me and turn to see him lean on the conference room doorframe, nearly blocking the entire opening with his impressively large frame. He really does have a scary aura, or whatever it is that hangs around him, especially as he turns his cold green eyes on me.

“Ms. Sorenson, I don’t recommend fucking with my family, if that’s your intention in not signing the NDA. If you so much as drag our name or our business into any of your bullshit, you'll feel the wrath we’re capable of. We don’t tolerate those who wish to make enemies of us, so I don’t advise it for you. It won't end well.”

I keep my back straight and stare him down right back. I don't care how big or intimidating he is, I won’t let him threaten me after what Zander did. “I don’t recommend fucking withme, Mr. Olsen. You can tell Zander that yourself. I don't want anything to do with any of you, or your fucking company, so don't worry about me or what I’ll be doing. Stay away from me and we won't have a problem.” The elevator dings and the doors open, providing an escape route away from Zander’s scary-ass big brother.

Thankfully, the doors close and the car descends as it should, and I ride down in a shaky silence, my lip wobbling with the effort it takes to hold on to my fierceness and pride. To keep my facade of warrior strength that I’ll be taking with me against any foe.

I’ll need this strength and power to raise a child on my own, to protect them from the world, and to shield them from men like Zander and a family as powerful as the Olsens. Once I’m out of the building, I let myself fall apart, tears coming in an endless stream that has people on the street looking at me like I’m crazy. I’ll have to do this completely on my own, without Zander so much as knowing that he’ll have a child in this world, raised in the very same city, even.

I will be moving home to live with my mom once my current contracts are complete. I can’t continue modeling after I have this baby, not without a family and help in place in LA, and not when it will put me in the public eye and potentially at risk of Zander and his family learning about his child.

I’m making a choice right this moment to make sure that Zander Olsen never gets wind of this baby, because if what Hayes said was true, they could see this as a retaliatory act on their family. Any mention of Zander being the father of my child could be construed as dragging the Olsen name into my bullshit. They could try to take the baby from me, and then I’ll have absolutely nothing left of my forever with Zander. So I will guard my child from that possibility, and that means pulling away from the life and career I thought I wanted so badly.

nineteen

Zander

IpunchinHarlowe’snumber, my fingers drumming on my desk as I wait for it to connect. Instead, it goes straight to voicemail.

“You have reached me. If you know, you know, so do the thing.” Her voicemail message brings a slight grin to my face with the absurdity of it, but the raspy voice is unmistakable.

“Lowe, it’s me. I need to talk to you.” I pause and glance around the pristine interior of my office, forming some kind of plan or message, or something that can give me direction. “Just call me.” I rattle off my personal number and end the call, feeling stupid and out of my element. I hate this.

“Fuck,” I breathe, dragging a hand across my face. Why couldn't she have just picked up so I could ask her right then if he's my kid or not? “Fuck!” I say with more intensity. I don't want to feel helpless, waiting on some woman to change my life forever or put me out of this wretched misery of not knowing for sure. If Payton’s right and I can use this to save the Olympus image, I'll need to reestablish control and direct this how I want it to go.

I pull up Instagram to see if she’s been active on socials, even if her phone is going straight to voicemail, and see her latest thirst trap that feels set just for me. Fucking noodles again. Her caramel skin is more on display than usual, her midriff showing above high-rise leggings along with one bare shoulder that her cropped shirt is falling off of. She makes a face I know only too well as she hollows out her cheeks, slurping up noodles from chopsticks held above a wok. It takes me straight back to when she sucked my cock just like that, taking me down her throat, making me come faster than I wanted, sending bolts of lightning up and down my spine. The dirty caption that must be meant for me? Something about fuckingslurping.I canhear her sounds. I exit the app like it’s on fire, throwing my phone on the desk and bending at the waist, pushing my now pulsing, rock-hard cock down and groaning at the friction of even that motion because I can’t fucking do anything about it here at work.

“Goddammit!” I roar to my empty office.

I’m still pacing angrily around my office half an hour later when Weiss knocks softly and cracks the door.

“I just wanted to remind you of your lunch meeting in fifteen minutes. The Henderson project is on the docket, as is the restructuring of Milagro Inc. It’s just you with Javier and the directors leading the teams. Hayes and Payton won’t be in attendance.”

Finally. I could use the familiarity of doing what I do best to take my mind off of Harlowe. Milagro is being incorporated into our mining operations and will need top-down restructuring, something I can do in my sleep, so it’s just the project I need to refocus on what is important. If I’m not pushing the constant growth of Olympus, I’m at risk of being outpaced, outmatched, and outplayed by some other company looking to exploit any weakness they can find with us.

“You have the files for me to review?”

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