Page 85 of The Arrangement
Me: Absolutely.
Jason: Then don’t go downstairs today. See what happens.
I laugh.
Me: Don’t you have things to do, like run an empire?
Jason: Lucky for you, I’m a good multitasker. I’m sitting in a meeting with four attorneys, arguing with my wife about gifts, and sporting a hard-on as I imagine you in the black lace.
So he did pick this out himself. The thought sends a spiral of giddiness through me.
He likes the black one best. Noted.
Me: Go work so you can come home sooner.
Jason: Take a selfie of yourself in the store so I know you’re there.
Me: And if I don’t?
Jason: Then the store will come to you.
Me: I don’t even know what that means, but you wouldn’t dare.
Jason: Try me.
A part of me wants to do just that because I think I’ll like how it ends. But another part of me wants to make him happy, and something tells me that he’ll be happy if I act on his request.
I stand in the middle of the atrium and laugh.How did this happen? How is this my life?
Instead of bothering him again, I take my gifts and go to the shower. Apparently, I’m about to go shopping.
A grin touches my lips.
And I’m crazy about you, too, Jason Brewer.
Chapter 20
Jason
I step into the elevator and punch the button for the door to close.
My hand immediately goes to my tie, loosening it from around my neck. The air is stifling. The elevator is too small and far too fucking slow. I watch the floor numbers increase at a snail’s pace.
The morning drew on much longer than I anticipated or wanted, but I couldn't just cut it short due to the nature of the conversation.
Someone has to negotiate with Dad’s attorneys. And that someone is me. And I couldn’t think of anything further from what I’d like to do on my honeymoon.
I hate that he’s had any space in my time with my new wife. It only makes me angrier at him, if that’s possible.
The bell rings, and the doors open, and I step into the foyer on a mission. I make quick work of the lock and enter the penthouse.
Blood rushes past my ears as I look for my wife.
I’ve thought about her all day. Her texts broke my aggravation and helped me relax. They gave me something tolook forward to, a reason not to lose my shit and tell the attorneys to go fuck themselves.
“Chloe?” I call out into the silence.
“In the kitchen.”
