Page 64 of Inarticulate

One by one he slammed down questions, then aggressively scribbled another.

Do you think that night in the penthouse would’ve happened?

How far would this thing between us have gone if you knew I was your rival?

He paused long enough to poke her curiosity. She looked up at him and met the angered raise of his brow.Asshole.He stoked her blood to the boiling point in that mere crinkle of his forehead. He had no right to be angry. No right at all.

Another note landed before her.The last few weeks wouldn’t have existed.

“For good reason,” she hissed under her breath. “You’ve jeopardized my job. And for what? To get laid?” She tore her gaze from his. “Or maybe it wasn’t about sex. Maybe it was to help your girlfriend get back at me for a stupid mistake in high school. Or did you do it for inside information? To make Daddy proud if Rydel occupancy levels fell below the required levels?”

Another slam landed on the bar.

She clenched her jaw, fighting against the pull to lower her eyes. She didn’t want this to continue. She didn’t want to read another message.

Her traitorous vision lowered anyway.

That’s bullshit and you know it.

“Do I?” It was her turn to raise a defiant brow. “What’s the alternative, Keenan? Why keep something that important from me? There’s no point denying your manipulation. You succeeded for weeks. Congratulations.”

This time his writing was slower, less frantic in her periphery. He slid the message on top of the others, his fingers remaining on the paper as she read,I should’ve told you.

She glared at him. “Ya think?”

He returned the stare as he placed the next note down.And you shouldn’t have assumed I was only capable of a low-level position.

Incorrect. She’d thought hisemployerwould’ve made that assumption.

“Don’t even try it.” She sipped her wine slowly, shooting daggers at him over the rim of the glass. “The guilt ship has sailed, buddy. It boarded all passengers this morning, never to return.”

His nostrils flared and he pinned her with a look so feral and furious that she almost wanted to slink away. Almost. Instead, she raised her chin. “So, please leave.”

His jaw ticked as he wrote on the Post-It pad. This time he held up the message beside his angry face—I’m falling for you.

She fought to keep her stare impassive. Fought and lost. She swallowed hard, fighting back the lump building in her throat. “Well, don’t let the ground smack you in the face when you finally stop the descent.” She slid from her stool. “Good luck with the settlement. I’ll make sure Spencer has all my notes before he arrives to take over.”

Something flashed in his eyes—shock, fear, panic—she didn’t know and wasn’t going to waste time being wistful. Instead, she turned and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Big steps, little steps. She fumbled her way from the bar and into the hotel lobby. The lights were brighter out here, almost burning her retinas. She really needed to get more sun.

Her heels clapped faster and faster along the floor, matching her deadly heart rate. This was the end. Her final glimpse at the Seattle staff. She wasn’t going to see Keenan again either.

She wasn’t sure what hurt more… Well, she did. She simply refused to admit it to herself.

Footfalls echoed behind her, spurring her to move at a pace that defied inebriated logic. She was holding her own at the moment, but the alcohol was kicking in, moving from first gear and straight into third.

She rounded the corner, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as she jabbed the elevator button. “Come on.”

The heavy footsteps stopped. She wasn’t alone. And it wasn’t a stranger at her back. It was a familiar frame. An unforgettable scent.

The elevator doors opened and she rushed inside to press the button for level three. Her shadow followed, shrinking the already small space with his overbearing presence.

“Get out.” She held the door open and waited. Waited and waited. “Get. Out.”

Keenan leaned against the side wall of the elevator and stared at her, arms crossed over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Her arm fell to her side as she took a menacing step toward him. It probably would’ve been funny from his perspective—tipsy woman, trying to intimidate an ogre—but she didn’t care. “I don’t have the security of being related to the boss to be able to risk my career like this. You’re playing with my life.”

He held up the Post-It note again and the same message stared back at her—I’m falling for you.

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