Page 75 of The CEO I Hate

When I stepped back onto the patio, I’d removed my tank top, standing there in a lacy little bra. It did the job, Liam’s eyes going wide as I announced, “Your dinner is served.”

“No, of course that’s not Mia—why would your sister be here?” Liam said. Only then did I realize he was on the phone.

I bit my lip.Shit. He was talking to Jake.

He turned away from me before he could see my face fall. I understood Liam’s reasoning for hiding us from Jake. I didn’t want to do anything to hurt my brother either, or to impede his recovery. But it still stung to hear Liam deny it like that. To hear him talk as if the idea of him and me was completely ludicrous.

I couldn’t help wondering if love would always be something that stung for me. Something that caused me pain. I certainly hadn’t had very good luck with it so far.

The call ended, and I shook off the thoughts, forcing a smile. Why was I stressing about all that? I should focus on the now. Be present. Enjoy this absolute smokeshow of a man who looked at me like I was a delicacy he was going to devour.

“Close one,” Liam said, setting his phone down. He came toward me, predator-like, but I caught his chest, halting him.

“Guess what?” I said.

“What?”

“I was invited ontoThe Ink Spottoday to talk aboutHeart and Hustle.”

Liam’s eyes widened again. “That anime podcast you were talking about?”

“It’s more than just anime,” I laughed. “But yes. I’ve listened to the host for a long time, so I’m actually super pumped.”

Ellie had a niche-but-dedicated audience, and if all her listeners went to their local indie bookstores and asked them to stock the book, I might end up with some solid sales numbers. Even though I was beyond thrilled with the work I was getting to do onEnd in Fire,Heart and Hustlewould always be my baby, and I really wanted this printing to be a success.

“Mia,” he said. “That’s amazing!” He shifted from predatory to proud in a split second, wrapping me in a hug.

“Thanks,” I mumbled against his shoulder. “I’m a little nervous about it, honestly.” It felt like a big step as far asHeart and Hustlewas concerned. Making a good impression on the podcast would give my little story its best chance of succeeding in the offline world. But screwing it up could be disastrous.

“When is the interview?” he asked.

“In a few weeks.”

“Would it help if I came along for moral support? Maybe I could help keep you from getting too up in your head. I could make faces at you or something while you answer questions,” he teased.

I laughed even as my heart swelled at his offer. He wanted to be there to support me. “Actually, that would be amazing.” I leaned up to kiss him and didn’t stop. Not as he stripped my clothes off or as he picked me up and carried me over to that deck table. I only stopped to lie back so he could show me that he knew exactly how to finish what he’d started.

25

MIA

Holy shit, I thought, walking into the writers’ room Monday morning. I froze just past the doorway, my feet locking in place as my gaze darted straight across the room to the man standing by the whiteboard, chatting Kait up.

Damien Alverez—my former screenwriting professor and mentor from college. The one who’d taken me under his wing before screwing me over.

What the hell washedoing here?

“So,” Jerome said, coming to stand beside me, arms crossed, his jaw tight. I’d never seen him look so pissed. “Lyle’s brought reinforcements.”

“Only two,” I said, barely getting the words out. Damien touched Kait’s elbow, laughing that obnoxiously fake laugh he used to use on me, and I gritted my teeth. He was the same smooth-talking asshole he’d always been, and I needed to get Kait far,faraway from him.

“Wish Paula had putthatin the group chat.”

As Liam had promised, Paula had given the writers a heads-up about Lyle to prevent a complete meltdown this morning. It worked, mostly.Though Tanya sat at the end of the table, clicking her pen and glaring at everyone. Okay, so maybe she was still processing.

I could relate. Just as they were struggling to deal with having to face Lyle again, I was struggling to acknowledge the man standing in front of me. I hadn’t seen Damien for years, but laying eyes on him again was like being doused in a bucket of ice water—unpleasantly shocking.

Jerome bumped my shoulder, inclining his head in Damien’s direction. “You look like you know him. What’s his story?”

---