Page 39 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
I offer a polite smile as heads turn toward me. My cheeks burn under the attention, but I keep my expression calm. Inside, though? I am screaming.
They continue reviewing the pictures, tossing out suggestions, some insightful, others barely worth the breath. I nod along, scribbling in my notebook, and after a little while, thankfully, the meeting wraps up. Everyone leaves, and I gather my things quickly, ready to slip away, but Mr. Rolex intercepts me near the door. His smile widens, the kind that borders on creepy, but I keep my expression neutral.
“Miss McKee,” he says, voice oozing with charm… “Great work. You have got fantastic skills.”
“Thanks,” I reply, keeping my voice polite, hitching my bag higher on my shoulder. My eyes flick to the door.Almost free.
“I was thinking we should celebrate a little. How about dinner tonight? My treat.”
I blink at him, caught off guard by the abrupt invitation. “Dinner? For what exactly?”
His grin does not falter. “To talk about your passion for photography, of course. I would love to hear more about your process, your inspirations… and maybe discuss some opportunities.”
“Opportunities,” I repeat, my tone skeptical.
“Yes,” he says, his tone dripping with faux sincerity. “You are talented, Hazel. I can tell. I think we would have a lot to talk about.”
I give him a flat look. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
He leans in a little, undeterred. “Do not dismiss me so quickly, Hazel. At least think about it.” He slips a sleek, embossed card into my hand. “Call me when you change your mind.” He winks before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive cologne.
I glance down at the card. Decker Calloway, Sports Consultant. I shrug, barely suppressing a sigh, and shove it into my bag.
Just as my fingers graze the door handle, someone grabs my arm and spins me around.
Liam.
His jaw is tight, his eyes dark and furious. "Using them now, huh?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he says, stopping in front of me. His eyes narrowed on mine, “what the hell was that?”
“What was what?” I ask, already annoyed.
“That guy,” he says, his voice low and angry. “Decker. What did he want with you?”
I shake my head, yanking my arm free. “None of your business, Liam.”
“It is when it’s happening under my roof,” he shoots back, his voice biting.
I laugh bitterly. "Wow," I say, folding my arms. "Jealousy looks ugly on you, Liam."
"Jealous?" He barks out a cold laugh. "Please. I’m just calling it like I see it."
“Oh, give me a break. I am allowed to talk to people, Liam. You do not own me.”
His nostrils flare, and for a moment, he looks like he is battling with himself, struggling to hold back whatever he really wants to say.
“You don’t know guys like him,” he says finally, his tone softer but no less intense.
“And you do?” I shoot back.
“I know his type,” Liam growls. “He is not interested in your photography, Hazel. He is interested in you.”
“Even if he is, so what?” I challenge him, stepping closer, my voice rising. “What’s it to you?”
His jaw clenches, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re better than that.”
