Page 50 of Crossing the Line
“I’ve been trying to talk Mason into finding another job, but he doesn’t want to leave Hercules. He treats him well. Hercules treats all his employees well.” She grimaces then looks off thoughtfully. “Speaking of Hercules, what’s really going on between the two of you?”
I’m on the verge of asking if Mason has gone to the doctor yet, but that question fades from the tip of my tongue. “Huh?”
“Top Rag Magwrote another story about you two. See…”
She gets her cellphone and shows me a post with a photo of me at the restaurant last night with a forlorn look on my face. A similar photo of Hercules is next to mine. They’re comparing our reactions to each other. I don’t even want to read the caption, but I can’t help myself.
Sources say this is how they looked at each other through dinner. Then he followed her into a private hallway. We wonder what happened in secret. More of this?
Beneath is a repeat video clip of our Thursday-night kiss.
I close my eyes as I sigh, wishing I hadn’t seen that. I hand Lake her phone. “Are they stalking us?”
“Well… yeah,” she says, to my surprise. “But it’s easy to write this kind of story when you both behave as if you’re in love with each other. Are you?”
Suddenly, I’m warm, and I remember that I’m wearing a jacket. I take it off.
“He’s getting married, Paisley.” She raises a hand as if I were going to say something to negate that. I wasn’t. “And I know he’s being forced into it. And Hercules doesn’t strike me as the type who can’t live without his sleek penthouse and fancy car and driver and billionaire lifestyle. But if he’s going to keep LTI operational, then he needs to marry Lauren. The company needs the money. At least, that’s what Mason says.”
I cough to clear the frog out of my tight throat and say, “Hercules and I are just friends.” I’m shocked by how convincing I sound. Last night, all I wanted was to make love to him.
“Are you and Hercules able to be ‘just friends,’ though?”
The swimming pool comes to mind. Falling asleep with my head on his chest does too. I want to be with him every second of the day. I can’t wait until tonight. I’ve been counting the minutes.
Lake continues to watch me—and I can’t look away from her. Her expression is the picture of curiosity.
She’s about to say something else, but luckily, I’m saved by my chiming cellphone. It’s Corina. She’s transferred the full purchasing amount into an escrow account and has sent me documents to read over and sign. I could do it all on my cellphone, but I don’t want to talk about my relationship with Hercules anymore. So I tell Lake I have to get home and handle the rest of the purchase. We hug, say we’ll see each other soon, and I leave. I stayed any longer, she would keep prying into my connection with Hercules, and I would eventually tell her the truth. At the moment, he’s not just my friend. But I think the longer we deny our sexual desire for each other, the easier it will be to maintain a totally platonic relationship with each other.
“Never self-convince,” I hear my dad say in my mind.
I groan as I stride up the Hudson Yards running path. “Shut up, Dad,” I mutter and increase my pace.
