Chapter 20 – Pleasing the Boss

Wishing the room had a balcony, I peer behind the curtain to check how hard the window is to open and start to grin when I see Jessa Jones standing in the driveway by a luxury sports car. I abandon both the grin and the task of opening the window when I see Hadrian is standing with her.

Not wanting to be caught spying on him a second time, I pull back enough to not be seen, but I linger on watching for another few seconds. While I can’t hear what they’re saying, there is obvious tension in Jessa’s body. From the animated way she’s moving around, I would swear she’s telling him off.

I could be projecting.

Hadrian appears to listen to her with his full attention. If she is telling him off, he seems unaffected by it. He even gives her a slight wave when she gets in the car and peels out of the driveway. So yeah, I’m probably wrong about the conversation. Besides, he’s her boss. I doubt she’d lay into a superior like that, never mind the badass she is.

A badass that drives a Porsche Boxster. Once again, that woman is goals.

I go still when, after her car can no longer be seen, Hadrian turns back toward the house, but my wariness is in vain. He never looks up.

I remind myself I shouldn’t be disappointed by that, and, dropping the curtain, I pick up my phone instead. I’d woken to two texts. I’d opened Elvis’s telling me he was out for a run and left Shiloh’s unread so I cl**k on it now.

Did you bang the hottie?

I did not. But I think I got the job.

A paragraph of celebratory emojis follows, and my grin returns. We got the job. I haven’t had time to really let that set in. We got the f**king job. Whatever that was with Hadrian, it was fine. I’m fine. And it was nothing compared to what I’m getting in return.

If he keeps his bargain, that is.

I send another text telling Shiloh that I’ll fill her in when I know more. By the time I finish typing, another text has arrived, this one from an unknown number.

Can’t seem to keep your eyes off of me now, can you?

My pulse picks up and a shiver rolls down my spine. I open the curtain again, but Hadrian’s gone. This has to be from him, right? I can’t decide if it makes me feel worse or better if it’s not him.

And am I supposed to respond?

Elvis walks out of the bathroom with a towel wr*pped around his waist. He drops the towel to put on a pair of briefs. “What’s that look for?”

Whatever my exp**ssion had been, it changed at his question. I try to remember how my features felt so I can determine what they’d been saying, and I can’t. “What kind of look was it?” I ask.

“Good. Happy.”

There’s a ball in my throat at the realization. Hadrian texted me, and I was happy. What the f**k’s with that?

Thinking quickly, I give Elvis another response, one that will invariably open the door to the questions I’m trying to avoid. “We got the job.”

He pauses midway through pulling up his jeans. Then he smiles. “We got the job.” He finishes putting on his pants. “We really did? Both of us? He’s giving you the spot?”

I stand up from the chair, sl*pping my cell into the pocket of my romper. “He says he’ll get it started tomorrow. So…yes. I think so.”

He pulls on a clean T-shirt and puts his hands on his h*ps, studying me.

“Don’t,” I tell him.

“Don’t what?”

“I told you last night, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ever? I thought you just meant last night.”

“I mean ever.” When he gives me a worrying scowl, I put a hand up in protest. “I just want to focus forward. We’ve worked our asses off to be here. We deserve to be here. And now we are.”

I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself, but it does the trick to distract him from whatever happened bet**en me and Hadrian last night.

Tugging me into his arms, Elvis wr*ps me into a giant bear hug. He leans in to k**s my l*ps, but I turn slightly, and it lands next to my mouth. “Congratulations.” He’s unfazed by the dismissal of his k**s. “I knew you could do it.”

I stiffen in his arms, unsure why his confidence in me is so off-putting. Perhaps because it feels like it’s confidence rooted in my ability to use sex to promote myself rather than confidence of my journalistic abilities. I know that’s not true, that he’s always believed in my talent, but right now I wish he’d tell me that we deserve to be here. That I earned it before we even stepped foot on Adeline’s grounds.

Apparently, he’s not completely unaware of what’s going on in my head. “You sure you’re okay?”

I force a smile. “Just really need that coffee.”

A few minutes later, we’re downstairs and seated outside at one of the round dining tables that have been set out around the patio for breakfast. A staff member comes by and takes our drink order, as though we’re at a restaurant.

I order my coffee.

“Add a mimosa for her and get one of each as well for me.” He’s not the type to order for me, and I raise a brow.

Just then Hadrian walks out of the house and onto the far end of the patio, and though he’s talking to one of his staff, he’s looking right at us.

Somehow I manage to concentrate on Elvis while he’s talking.

“We’re celebrating, sweet girl. We have to have mimosas.” He takes my hand in his, setting it on the table, and I’m surprised by how much I appreciate the gesture. Not because he’s showing he’s with me or because he’s declaring he’s happy about the job, though both are probably true, but because it feels like a blatant display of ownership. A claim on me. Hours too late, but a claim nonetheless.

The best part of it? How Hadrian’s eyes blaze.

I can see the fire in his gaze from several tables away, and it makes my stomach fl*p and my heart skip, and then my brain screams at me, because no way am I into that man being jealous. I don’t care how he feels. I don’t care how he makes me feel. I care that he gives me this job. That’s all. That is all.

Except it isn’t all, because I can’t tear my eyes away from Hadrian, no matter who’s hand mine is laced with.

I don’t even notice Elvis gesturing for Hadrian to join us until Hadrian has walked back inside and the servant he was speaking to has approached us. “Is there something you need, Mr. Endlich?”

Elvis shakes his head. “I was trying to get Hadrian’s attention.”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Seymour is going to be out the rest of the day. He told me he was sad that he wasn’t able to see you off personally, but he’ll reach out to you this week to follow up on the business you have with him.”

“Huh. Sorry to hear that.” Elvis doesn’t sound that sorry. “Appreciate the update. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and those mimosas are just about here.”

It’s too late, and he’s definitely gone, but I withdraw my hand from Elvis’s, in case that’s the cause of Hadrian’s need to disappear. Not that I’m disappointed that he’s gone or anything.

And when immediately my phone vibrates with a text in my pocket, I don’t have to look to know it’s Hadrian. In a weird need for a sense of power balance that I’ll never actually obtain, I ignore it.

After a toast with the mimosas and a full cup of coffee, I’m ready for food. Elvis has already gone inside and came back with a plate full of healthy protein in the form of a veggie egg white omelet and turkey bacon.

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