Page 121 of King of Pain
Yep. He’s going to be a lot.
“How’d you know I’m into clean eating?” he asks, quirking a brow.
I raise mine right back. “You post about it constantly.”
His grin widens. “So, you’ve been stalking my socials, huh?”
I fix him with a flat look. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s literally my job.”
He laughs, low and devilish, then winks. “Sure it is.”
I sigh dramatically, snap open my linen napkin, and toss it onto my lap. “Your posts are boring anyway.”
Jason cocks his head. “Even the shirtless ones?”
I feel heat creeping up the collar of my shirt, and I shout, “Oh look, it’s time to order,” as the server appears. We both opt to stick with water. Jason orders the roasted chicken as recommended, and I go with the Cobb salad.
As soon as the waiter collects our menus and leaves, I unlock my phone and pull up Jason’s file on my work app. “Ok, I put together some notes on the sponsor contracts you need to decide on. I think the natural energy drink, the fitness apparel line, and the home chef service for clean eating hold the most potential. They fit perfectly into your personal brand.”
Jason beams at me. “I can get behind that. Those deals caught my attention the most. Well, other things caught my eye first, but as far as sponsors go, I’m on board with pursuing those.”
I fight a blush but remain on task. “Okay, let’s go over the details for the natural energy drink first.”
Jason laughs. “Are you always all business? I just wanted to get to know the man who’ll be working behind the scenes on my account.”
I frown. “Meg is your agent, Jason.”
He grins. “I know. And I’ve had several lunches with Meg. She’s the best. But let’s be real—I know you’ll be doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”
I nod. “I hope to be able to do as much of that as possible. Which is why we should go over these deals.”
Jason chuckles, then leans forward with his elbows on the table and lowers his voice. “Okay, you win. For today. But I’m going to continue insisting on lunch meetings until you warm to me. Then I’ll insist on dinner meetings… until they turn into breakfast the next morning.”
I sit there, blinking at him as heat crawls up my neck. Before I can fumble through a response, the waiter returns, setting down a basket of warm bread with honey butter, saving me from having to say anything.
I take the opportunity to dive into the sponsorship details, managing to keep Jason on task for the rest of the meal. By the time we shake hands in the parking lot, I promise to get the contract revisions and campaign concepts to Meg for review as soon as possible so we can move into final negotiations.
As I coast out of the parking lot, my gaze flicks toward the black SUV sitting in the lot.
Reacherguy is still inside, reading a book.
I slow down, then wave.
The man lowers his book, meets my eyes… and starts the engine. The SUV inches forward.
I huff a nervous laugh and press on the gas.
TRACK FORTY•FOUR
Owner of a Lonely Heart
THREE YEARS AFTER
Chance
Three years. Three torturous years, and I’m still here. The cabin is quiet, filled only with the sounds of my brush against the canvas and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. My paintings are everywhere: stacked against the walls, piled in corners, covering almost every available surface. It’s not lost on me that I’ve painted the same thing so many times in varying styles, poses and color schemes, I could probably paint another variation with my eyes closed.
I pause, rolling my shoulders and sighing. Loneliness is a constant here, an ache I’ve grown used to. But I’d serve a life sentence in this cabin alone if it meant Ant was safe. There were nights I still thought about running, disappearing into another country, but if I ever get the word that everything is clear, I want to be able to get to him as quickly as possible. That’s the only thought that keeps me sane.
