Specifically, I remember that I want to see more. And I definitely want to do more than see.
It’s driving me out of my mind.
I set my wineglass down on the patio ledge—a 2005 Bodegas Roda Cirsion that would usually distract me from anything but its exquisite taste—and open my phone to read the last text message I sent her for the millionth time today.
It seems I can’t keep my eyes off you either.
I sent it twelve hours ago, and it still says it’s unread.
f**king Brystin. What part of make yourself available did she not understand?
“Did you really have it out with Jessa Jones in the middle of your driveway?”
I look up to find my sister staring at me with accusation in her eyes.
I pocket my phone as I glance over my shoulder at the door to my bedroom. My private patio is accessible from the garden, if you know where to look—which Adly does—so there is absolutely no reason she should be coming here through my suite. “How did you get in my room?”
She makes a face like I’m being ridiculous. “Errol knows me, you idiot.”
“That doesn’t explain why he’d let you in.” Obviously, I’m going to have to do some staff management.
“He let me in because he knows me. Also, it’s f**king freezing out here.” She moves to the outdoor fireplace and fl**ks the switch on.
“Good thing I wasn’t beating my meat.” And it’s actually a warm night for April, if you ask me.
“God, Hadrian. Why are you so disgusting?” She returns and plops herself on a chair facing the fire. Then she reaches for my wineglass, managing to grab it before I can stop her. She takes a swallow and makes a face.
“I could have told you that you wouldn’t like it.”
She waves her hand to say no problem. As if she’s the one being put out here. “So are you going to tell me about Jessa or not?”
I don’t give a f**k about Jessa so pulling my mind from where it wants to be is extra difficult. “There’s not much to tell.”
“That doesn’t work with me. Besides, there were witnesses.”
“What witnesses? What did you hear?” I’m pretty sure I know exactly which witness she’s talking about, though I’m not sure how the f**k Brystin ended up saying anything to Adly about what she saw from her window.
Brystin. Now I’m itching to pull my phone out again and check to see if she’s responded.
“I don’t share my sources.”
“Not even with me?”
“You didn’t share your sources when you got the scoop on King-Kincaid. I think it’s only fair to play the same.”
“That Shaw girl told her.” Steele appears at the bedroom door. “This one was all over her telling her how much you loved her work, welcoming her to the team. You need to talk to your sister about non-disclosure.”
“f**k you, Steele. I’ll remember you’re a tattler.”
I don’t really care what Adly told Brystin. I care about my privacy. “Is Errol asleep out there or something?” I ask. Errol is usually really good about keeping people out of my wing, but maybe that’s because my family rarely comes looking for me.
Which begs another question—“What are you both still doing here? It’s after ten p.m. on a Sunday.”
“I’m working virtually tomorrow,” Adly says.
“Joe’s still here and we’re meeting in the morning to discuss programming changes.” Steele lights up a hand-rolled cigarette and takes a puff before going on. “What are you still doing here? Expected you to be back in the city by now.”
“I missed the last train. I’ll go in the morning.” I’m suddenly wondering if that’s why my siblings are sneaking into my room—because they don’t expect me to be here. “Does Errol always let you in here when I’m gone?”
“Stop harping on Errol.” Steele exhales, and now I know that he’s not smoking tobacco. “I told him I had p**ssing shit to discuss with you. He understands I wouldn’t say that lightly.”
I’m dubious. “Okay, then. What p**ssing shit?”
Steele nods to Adly. “I’m with her. We want to know about Jessa. Did you f**k that up?”
“No, I did not f**k it up.” I reach over to swipe the joint out of his hand. If I have to listen to this shit, I’m going to need to be buzzed. Since Adly still hasn’t surrendered my wine, I’ll have to settle for this.
Of course, Steele takes the joint back after I get one hit. “She left and has refused to answer any of my calls. Sure seems like you f**ked it up.”
Adly scowls. “Why are you even calling her? This should be an HR issue at this point. Calling her should be my job.”
“And have you called her?” Steele challenges.
Adly’s hesitation is an answer in itself. “I was waiting until the work week.”
He laughs. “Sure.”
She tries again. “I was waiting to hear Hadrian’s side of the story.”
Now both pairs of eyes are on me. “I don’t know what you want to hear from me. I’m not giving into hostile demands. That is not the precedent I’m setting up at SNC.”
“Hostile?” Adly rolls her eyes. “Jessa Jones is a strong woman, but her requests were reasonable.”
“They didn’t fit into my vision.” That’s not exactly true, but Jessa has a timeline that doesn’t agree with my own. She’ll have to go on the backburner for now, star female anchor or not.
And I’m not getting into any of that with these assholes.
“Let me guess—your vision is Brystin Shaw.” Steele’s been completely supportive about my plans for Brystin before tonight, but his subtext says he’s more skeptical than he previously let on.
That’s the problem with my younger brother. He likes to play the winning side. If he suddenly thinks my ideas might lose, then he’ll jump ship and support Hunter instead.
A good reason not to tell him everything.
“Oh…Hadrian.” My sister is about to scold me, and I’m really going to need my drink back if she continues. “I love her. I really do. I was as enamored with her when you showed me those cl*ps as you were.”
Doubtful, but okay. This isn’t bad.
“And I totally think you need to give her a shot. But if you expect her to be your whole plan…”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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