He sucked in a breath as he stepped into my office. “I didn’t even think about that. Sorry, Mands.”
“It’s okay,” I sighed. “I just can’t fucking leave. Not with all of them swarming down there.”
“Do you want me to help you get out?” Harry offered, plopping himself into one of the two chairs that sat opposite my desk.
“No, it’s okay, I’ve already ordered a U-Haul to bring all of my furniture here. I’m moving in and never leaving,” I joked, peering up at him between the strands of curls that hung over my face.
“Probably didn’t help that Jack showed up earlier,” he snapped, a blip of anger crossing his features. “It’s all over the tabloids. What did he want, anyway? Was it about the project?”
Should I tell him? The temptation to warn him of what I’d apparently agreed to gnawed at me, told me it was better for him to find out from me than to see it in the tabloids as he had with Jack’s visit. “No,” I started, lifting my head from the desk as if it were a bucket of cement. Harry was one of my best friends. My business partner. He deserved to know the hell that I was about to go through and how much it might affect him. “It wasn’t about the project.”
But Harry was also overprotective. He wouldn’t be happy about this—he’d make stopping it his number one mission. And it couldn’t be stopped now. But he’d find out sooner or later…
“What was it then?”
My phone buzzed, the digits I’d typed before disappearing entirely and the words “Jackson Pig” taking their place. I snorted at myself for the adjustment I’d made to his name as I grabbed it, swiping to answer his call without even thinking twice. “What do you want, Mr. Big?”
“Always so eager to speak to me. I heard you’re still at work. Are you ready to leave?”
My ears perked up at that. Had he figured out a way to get me out? “Yes. Absolutely I’m ready to leave.”
“Good,” he said. “Get your stuff and go downstairs. My driver is waiting for you out front. Be seen, but don’t talk to them.”
My stomach dropped. “What? I thought you were sneaking me out?—”
“Nope. That’s not how we’re playing this, princess. You’re going to walk out, head held high, and show them that their presence doesn’t bother you,” he drawled. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Wait, what? Where are you sending me?” Silence. “Jack?”
I pulled the phone from my ear, seeing that he’d hung up.
Chapter 13
Jackson
Jackson Big of J.B. Tech may be hard at work on his new project dubbed Infinius, but behind the scenes, he’s been working even harder to hide his single status. Has that all changed now?
I scoffed as I skimmed the article. Line after line it talked about my love life, my preferences in women—physical characteristics, body type, personality traits—and how they just happened to match Mandy. Hardly anything was said about the campus, the project, or my move to Boulder. Just nonsense that people want to read. Why do they insist on printing this shit?
I exited the news app, too annoyed to finish the article. I didn’t care if they ended it with something about the project or who the most “eligible bachelor in the country” was dating. I dreaded the headlines that would be coming out after tonight, how little they would focus on my accomplishments, but I needed the media’s surge so we could breathe when the tide waded out.
A little itch of a thought formed in the back of my mind, nagging me, telling me this was the worst idea I could have ever come up with. If anyone from ten years ago saw it and realized who I was, they could put the pieces together. Possibly put a threat out against her. Take her?—
The sound of knives and forks scraping against plates and glasses clinking together snapped me back into the moment and my attention turned to something—someone—else. Mandy walked through the doors of the Flagstaff House Restaurant, wearing the little black dress I’d left in the car for her. Briefly, I wondered if she’d changed in the backseat and if Steve had had the decency to pull over and step out instead of watching through the rearview mirror.
She looked otherworldly as her irritated gaze found mine. I was seated in the back, against one of the many windows that overlooked the city below from Flagstaff Mountain. I’d had to shell out thousands to ensure the seats around us were empty, save for a few that I knew would belong to reporters and journalists. I didn’t want them close enough to hear us, just enough to see us.
I almost regretted letting anyone else see just how amazing she looked, though.
The satin swayed against her skin as she crossed the floor toward me, her long curls bouncing about her shoulders and breasts. I hadn’t left heels for her; hadn’t needed to, not when I saw the ones she was wearing earlier. They matched perfectly.
“Why are we at the fanciest restaurant in town?” She grumbled, sliding into her spot next to me as I beckoned for her to leave the chair opposite empty.
“Because I wanted to have dinner with you, sans the screaming match that happened last time.”
“I have no problem screaming at you in a fancy restaurant.” One of the straps on her dress fell down her shoulder. “Is someone else joining us?”
“No,” I answered, slipping a finger beneath the strap and lifting it back into place.