Page 17 of Rival Desires

I busied myself by smoothing out my dress to avoid eye contact. “My reasons for being here are none of your concern, same as I’m not interrogating you about yours.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, eyes locked on something behind me.

I peeked over my shoulder, and my heart took a little dip. Yep, he was gawking at my table, where Bennett was deep in conversation with Nadine Seaworth – his dear old mom.

“You’re meeting with Nadine Seaworth here?” I asked, the pieces falling into place.

“And you’re here with her son.” It wasn’t even a question from him. “You think getting cozy with him will sway his mother to your side.”

I could tell he was biting back something harsher. “Parent-child relationships matter, especially regarding financial decisions,” I said coolly. “I’m sure he’s got a say in how his mom’s wealth is managed.” I walked past Cory, not wanting to linger. “I trust you won’t be sitting near us.”

“Trust me, Ms. Palmer,” he replied, icy as ever. “I have no interest in being anywhere near you.”

His words should’ve bounced off, but they didn’t. They stung, even though he had played me first. But I wasn’t about to let it show. I was better than that, stronger.

I forced myself to relax as I returned to Bennett, acting like I didn’t see Cory escorting Mrs. Seaworth to their table. Chatting up Bennett was like pulling teeth, but I kept at it. I had to knock his socks off so he’d suggest my firm to his mom.

The Seaworths knew nothing about the silent war Cory and I were waging, but I couldn’t let Cory win. Hell, no! I’d spent my entire life proving myself to guys like him, showing them that just because I wasn’t born with a Y chromosome, it didn’t mean I couldn’t compete. I’ve got what it takes to make it in this cutthroat business, and neither Cory nor my dad could make me think otherwise.

Even if being near Cory made my heart do somersaults and my body tingle in all the wrong places.

ELEVEN

Cory

The whole twenty-minute drive back to the office after that brunch was me muttering curses under my breath. Didn’t help much, though. Once I got back, I locked myself in my office, replaying the meeting with Nadine repeatedly, trying my best not to think about Rylee.

But, of course, that just soured my mood even more. With Fury out of town, I was kind of stuck in my own head, not really wanting to bother him since he was busy with whatever was going down with Rose. I kept picturing Rylee chatting up Nadine’s son. After the stunt she pulled with me, I wouldn’t put it past her to try some sneaky moves to sway him.

And honestly, I was at a loss on how to counter that.

That’s usually Fury’s arena, dealing with people. He would’ve had a field day if Rylee bumped into him. He would’ve used it somehow. Me? I just managed to stay civil and then went back to telling Mrs. Seaworth how we could help her out. All whilepretending Rylee wasn’t right there, probably turning on the charm with Nadine’s son.

I hunkered in my office the entire afternoon, only exchanging pleasantries with the security guard on my way out. I flashed him a smile, nodded, and even mustered a “Have a good night.”

The drive back to my apartment complex was about as thrilling as watching paint dry, and it didn't do much to soothe my jangled nerves or make me feel any less cruddy.

Once I finally got to the lobby of my apartment building, I figured a stiff drink and a good book might be my only hope for unwinding. The elevator seemed to be stuck on the top floor, so I decided to take the stairs instead - three long flights of them. I hadn’t been to the gym in a hot minute, so it was better than nothing, right?

I was huffing and puffing my way up the second-floor landing when the stairwell door swung open, and Becky, my downstairs neighbor, popped out. In her mid-twenties, with light auburn curls pulled into a ponytail, she was quite attractive and nice. From the moment I moved into this building, she’d made it a point to greet me with a friendly “hello.” She’d dropped by a few times, delivering misplaced mail or some extra muffins she’d baked. Today, she was as cheerful as ever.

“Hey there,” I said, stepping aside to let her pass.

Her green eyes sparkled when she saw me. “Cory! Feels like weeks since I last saw you. How’s everything?”

It was two days ago, but who’s counting? “Busy,” I replied, shifting my weight uncomfortably. “The usual work stuff.”

Her grin stretched even wider. “That’s fantastic! Your job must be a real rollercoaster, handling those high-profile clients and their deep pockets. I can’t even imagine how you keep your cool with all that pressure! A guy like you needs someone to help unwind at the end of the day, you know?”

I wondered if I’d ever let slip what Gracen & McCrae was all about. Probably not, but it wasn’t exactly a state secret either. A quick Google search would’ve given her the lowdown in no time.

“What I do is a piece of cake compared to your high-stakes dealings,” she said, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “Opening my own little designer boutique is a dream come true, but let’s be real, I’m not exactly curing cancer with my handcrafted accessories. Still, someone’s got to keep the fashion world spinning, right? Might as well be me!”

Ah, yes, the boutique. She’d dropped not-so-subtle hints about it before. She’d also mentioned that her dad was paying for her swanky pad and probably helping kickstart her business too.

I'm not judging, but let me tell you, my family, loaded as they are, never threw a dime at Gracen & McCrae. Nah, that was all Fury and me pulling all-nighters and grinding it out.

Becky paused as if waiting for me to spout some Yoda-level wisdom or something. I was drawing a total blank, though, silently praying she’d move aside so I could finally make my way upstairs to my cozy little hideaway. But I couldn’t just muscle past her – that’d be a serious breach of neighborly etiquette.

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