Page 13 of Reputation (Tempt)

Imade her miserable.

“I’m fine,” I said. “And you’re deflecting.”

“I—” Her jaw dropped. “What?”

“You’re joking to avoid having to answer the question.”

“Yes. I know what deflecting means.”

“I should think so.” I leaned my hip against the counter. “You’re practically a master.”

She glared at me.

“Hey.” I held up my hands. “You’re the one who wanted me to stop with the emails.”

“Yeah.” She tilted her head. “I’m seriously reconsidering that now.”

“Mm.” I crossed my arms over my chest, gratified by the way her eyes darted to my biceps.

“Don’t ‘mm’ me.” She wagged her finger at me.Damn, this was fun. Shewas fun when I allowed myself to let my guard down around her. “You’re a master at deflecting yourself.”

“Am I?”

She pointed at me. “See. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You answered a question with a question.”

“Is that a problem?”

“And again.” She threw her hands in the air.

“Fine,” I said, amused by her irritation. “Tell me how your workout was, and I’ll answer a question of yours.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You’ll answer it without answering in a question.”

“If that will make you happy.”

She rolled her eyes then said, “My workout was fine.”

I pressed my hands to the counter. “You already said that. I’m going to need something more. Why was it just ‘fine’?”

She huffed. “My legs felt like lead when I started.”

I barked out a laugh. “That wasn’t what I expected you to say. So what’d you do?”

“Decided that maybe one hundred percent doesn’t look the same every day, but I’d give the hundred percent I could today.”

I nodded. “That’s very…astute.”

Lately, it felt as if my one hundred percent wasn’t good enough. That there wasn’t enough time or energy to do everything that needed to be done. From running the studio to parenting Brooklyn to learning the lines for my new role and working out to maintain my physique. I often dropped into bed exhausted and feeling like I’d fallen short in at least one area, if not more. If not for my team, if not for Emerson, I didn’t know how I’d accomplish anything.

And I’d done a terrible job of showing her just how much I valued her. Which was why I’d made a stop on the way home.

“I have something for you.”

“You do?” She eyed me suspiciously, leaning her hip against the counter.

I grabbed the orange gift box from the floor and set it on the counter. “Happy birthday,” I said, quickly adding, “From Brooklyn and me.” I’d wanted to do something nice, something to show my appreciation for everything she did for us. For me, really. And her birthday had given me a convenient excuse.

For a minute, she stared at the box with the Hermès logo on it, unblinking.Oh no. Did I screw up?Kendall had assured me that this was the one Emerson would want. And the hoops Jay and Sloan had jumped through to make this happen…

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