Chapter 46 – Pleasing the Boss

“Not your office,” he says with a grin. “You negotiated your own office. You can request whatever furniture you want there.”

I fake pout. Or half fake a pout. I really am thrilled about my own space, but I’ve been told it’s more dressing room than workroom, and some of my favorite career moments have been brainstorming with Elvis over takeout in his tiny office. While this change is for the better, I’ll miss the best parts of before. One of the better parts of our show was our chemistry. What if we lose that now?

Since he really does know me, he comes close to reading my thoughts. “It’s different, but we aren’t,” he says. “We’re the soul of this thing, and this new structure isn’t going to change what we bring to the table.”

But he’s wrong—Hadrian has already changed us. I feel it in my bones. Even if…even when Hadrian gets tired of this game bet**en us, the way I feel about Elvis will never be the same.

Which is probably for the best, since it puts us on a more even playing field. Good for character growth, but I’m feeling sentimental at the moment.

I stand and cross to him for a hug. He’s generally very anti-PDA in work environments, but he allows it without fuss, wr*pping his arms so tightly around me that I think he might have missed me too.

He speaks quietly in my ear. “We did it.” Okay, maybe he’s just overwhelmed by our achievement, and I’m still romanticizing his actions more than I should.

I make sure I’m the one to pull away first, just so I can feel like I really have made Elvis progress.

But now we’re staring at each other, grins so wide and gazes so intense that I’m sure that he’s either about to k**s me or this is about to get awkward.

I don’t want either. So I quickly try to change the trajectory of this interaction. Reaching out to his door, I pull it back to read his name on the gold plate.

Except it doesn’t say Elvis Endlich.

It says Jessa Jones.

“They’re scheduled to put mine up tomorrow,” he tells me. “In case you’re planning to be here to Instagram it.”

He really does know me so well. “You took over Jessa’s office? I mean, despite the dumpster view, this is the kind of leftovers I’d totally gobble. Maybe she now looks over the parking garage entrance.”

Elvis gives a brief laugh but quickly grows solemn. “No, she’s uh…didn’t you hear?”

I’m instantly wary. “Hear…what?”

“Her show got canceled. She’s out of here.”

My stomach feels like it’s carrying a cannonball. “She got canceled?”

“I think the last one was supposed to air the day before we go live, but rumor is she was upset about the way it was all handled and her lawyer got her out of her obligation early. It’s really too bad. I was looking forward to working with her again. I know you really looked up to her.”

The pieces start forming a picture in my mind. The conversation I’d overheard with Adly and Steele about Jessa leaving the retreat. The way Jessa had torn out of Hadrian’s driveway. That all happened the day after I’d met with him in his room. When he’d agreed to “get to know me” and give me a show. “He canceled her show for us.”

Elvis shrugged. “More likely they were already planning to cancel her, and we showed up at the right time.”

My gut says he’s wrong. My gut says that if I hadn’t walked into Hadrian’s room that night, if I hadn’t let him open my dress and jerk off to my naked body, then Jessa Jones—a journalist who has worked her whole life to be where she is—would still have this office.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“You’re looking pale, Brystin. Is the excitement getting to you?”

I swallow hard. “I think so. Getting nervous. I should probably get to the conference room.”

What I want to do is get a minute to call Hadrian because this was not what I’d wanted. This success already feels tainted because of what I’ve given in exchange. Crawling over the back of someone I truly admire is not something I can stomach.

But it’s not a call I want to make in front of Elvis, and he insists on walking me to the room where I’m supposed to meet the contract manager. It’s on another floor and takes us ten minutes to get there so we arrive right at two on the dot.

“This is where I leave you.” Surprisingly, Elvis pulls me into a hug at the door. A very friendly hug. The kind of hug husbands give wives. “Let’s make time for each other this weekend, okay?”

A warning bell rings in my head, telling me that time for each other might very well mean sex, even after I’ve drawn boundary lines, but I’m too wr*pped up in the Jessa Jones drama to worry about it at the moment. “I’ll call,” I tell him.

When he withdraws from the embrace, I’m met by André and a serious-looking woman wearing wire-rimmed glasses along with a bored-looking brunette who I’m guessing is her assistant.

“Good to see you again,” André says. “Mr. Seymour said he’ll be down shortly. He asked that I make sure that Claudia found you and that you were offered refreshments.”

“Nothing for me, thanks. But—sorry, Claudia, one minute—I really need to speak to Hadrian. Er, Mr. Seymour. Before I can proceed.”

“Is there something wrong with the current contract?” Claudia opens the file folder in her hand before I answer. “Would you like to make sure it’s the correct draft?”

She ushers me into the room as she talks, her assistant tagging behind us, and André, as though he’s confident I’m being cared for, disappears.

For f**k’s sake.

“No, the draft is fine. I’m sure.” I take the contract from her outstretched hand anyway, glancing over it to see if it includes all of the last additions and changes. “It’s not the contract itself. It’s the contract as a whole.”

“As a whole?”

“I’m really not sure I can sign.”

“What do you mean you can’t sign?” Hadrian’s voice booms from behind us. He arrived too quickly to have been summoned by André. He must have already been on his way.

When I turn to look at him, I’m so struck by the sight of him in work mode. His presence fills the doorway—fills the room—and while I’ve seen plenty of men in well-fitting suits, Hadrian’s tailored designer outfit looks like it just came off the runway. He’s the sharpest man in the building, I bet. The sharpest man in the city.

And less than fifteen minutes ago, I was hoping that I could get him out of that suit.

Now, I’m so upset, I can barely see him through all the red. “You canceled Jessa Jones for our show?”

Hadrian’s jaw twitches, and his body seems to stiffen. “Claudia, can we have the room, please?”

“Yes, absolutely. But there’s supposed to be a witness—”

Hadrian cuts her off. “Leave the room. Now.”

Claudia and her assistant exit as fast as if they’ve heard a fire alarm, shutting the door behind them.

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