Page 43 of Sensual Games

It was my turn to scoff at him, backing away. “You can take this job, this company, and your goddamn precious legacy and shove them up your self-righteous ass. I’m gone.”

“You are not,” he insisted as I turned away, marching to the door.

“I am. I’ve never wanted this in the first place.”

“You have a responsibility to this company as one of its vice presidents. You will not storm out of here in a huff unless you don’t care about the trust fund I could easily revoke.”

My trust. He was threatening my trust, cutting me off.

What a shame we hadn’t stayed in bed this morning.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my back to him while I stared out at the cubicles and the people arriving for the day.

“I’m saying you will provide a list by close of business tomorrow. On it will be the names of who we’re letting go at the end of the day on Friday.” I didn’t need to see his face to know he wore a triumphant smirk. “We already have the benefits packages put together and only need the names.”

“Not Ivy,” I warned. “I’m not letting her go.”

His soft laughter followed me out of the room. “We’ll see about that.”

He had me by the balls, and there was nothing I could do about it unless I wanted to start my life from scratch. Even without that to consider, walking out would cause an enormous scandal. As much as I would’ve loved to see Dad’s head explode over negative press, I didn’t love the idea of being hounded in the media my family didn’t control. It would break Mom’s heart too.

What about Ivy’s heart? How could I face her now?

It was still well before nine, meaning her desk was empty. Still getting ready, probably, after ducking out of my place in last night’s dress. I decided to hole up in my office, the glass frosted for privacy’s sake, while I worked like hell to find a way out of this disaster.

If there was a way out.

18

IVY

Lucian had been completely unreachable on Wednesday, in his office with the glass frosted, so there was no looking inside to see what he was doing. I didn’t like how worried I was about him. I heard noise coming from behind his closed door once or twice, something that sounded a lot like drawers slamming and that kind of thing.

I knew he was there.

I also knew he clearly didn’t want to speak to me or to anybody. There didn’t have to be anything wrong with that, did there?

Then came Thursday. He hadn’t bothered coming into the office at all. All day, his desk had been empty, and he’d only offered short, flat answers to the few texts I talked myself into sending, afraid I would come off clingy or demanding.

Everything about him set off every insecurity I thought I had left behind in my teenage years. I was second-guessing myself, weighing every word, not to mention feeling less than thanks to his wealth and my definite lack thereof. All it had taken was a month of working with him and being with him to make me feel like the poor girl who never quite fit in. I didn’t want to be her. I thought those days were behind me.

Yet there I was, jumping on my cell like it was a live grenade as soon as I got a text from him on Thursday afternoon. It was late, and I was about to pack it in, but he had probably predicted that based on his message.

Lucian:Come straight to my place. I need to see you.

It would make me the biggest loser in the world to jump as soon as he snapped his fingers and demanded my presence. Not requested, demanded. He didn’t ask if I had plans. He didn’t give me the chance to go home and change. I was supposed to show up because he said so.

Damn me for being a hopeless idiot, then, because instead of heading down to the subway, I grabbed a cab to his apartment.Relax, already. I was completely losing my grip, freshening my makeup, pulling the clip from my hair, and shaking it out over my shoulders. My hands were trembling, and my breathing was fast and shallow. I was a bit disappointed in myself for acting like such a nervous, giddy girl because a man told me to meet him at his apartment. Was that all it took? I didn’t know what to think about myself.

Not that I felt like thinking about it at the moment. What if he was sick? I should’ve asked. I could’ve brought him soup or something else to help him feel better.What is wrong with you? He is not a child. He can order his own soup.

Shit. Had I already fallen?

The question was still rattling around in my brain by the time I stepped out of the cab and headed into his building.Breathe, for God’s sake.I couldn’t help my excitement.

Everything had seemed perfect on Wednesday morning. I had floated into work, surprised there weren’t little animated birds and bunny rabbits singing to me as I walked into the office. Being pretty much ignored all day had deflated the hell out of me, and his standoffishness all day today hadn’t helped. I even asked myself if I had maybe done something wrong. I was that fucked in the head when it came to him.

And there was nothing I could do about it. When I wasn’t paying attention, I’d fallen for him. I was on my way to falling, at least by the time I reached the top floor, where the doors slid open and left me staring at his apartment door.

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