Page 3 of The Temporary Fiancée
As the door closes behind him, an uncomfortable silence settles over the room. Despite the fact that one of the walls is entirely glass, with an unmitigated view of the street far below, I feel as though the walls are pressing in on us.
I look over at Shane, who stares back at me with an arched brow.
“What?” I say, irritable. I don’t mean to take out my frustrations on him, but I sure as shit can’t take that kind of tone with my father. It has to come out at some point.
Luckily, Shane has a cool head, and isn’t one to respond with the same level of annoyance. “Nothing,” he says with a shrug.
“Didn’t seem like nothing.”
“You’re not going to date for the next few months?”
“That’s what I said, right?” I shrug. “How hard can that be?”
“There’s going to be a woman in your bed by the end of the week, Reed.”
“Oh, come on,” I scoff, folding my arms. “What do you think I am, some kind of?—”
“Whatever you’re about to finish that sentence with,” Shane interrupts patiently, “it’s an accurate word to describe what you are.”
I try to find the same surge of indignation that rose when I spoke to my father, but it’s gone. Shane isn’t trying to threaten me, or control me—he’s just making an observation, based on past behavior.
And, yeah, he’s right. If the past five years are anything to go by, it’s hard to imagine that I’m going to make a sudden change. I haven’t beensingle—at least, not in spirit—for at least a decade.
The situation at the Nightjar the other night, the fight that got my face inTheExaminer? That’s not exactly a rare occurrence. In fact, by my standards, it was pretty tame. Neither of the women was married, or famous, or both.
But after enough explosive scandals with women who were married, or famous, or both, my involvement is all it takes for any hookup or breakup to turn newsworthy.
“I think you’re gonna find it hard,” Shane comments, shuffling the sales reports back into their manila folder. “Harder than you think.”
“Well, how do you do it?” I ask, an edge in my voice. I think I’m trying to get under his skin, but he doesn’t react. I can’t remember the last time I saw Shane with a woman.
“Easy,” he replies. “I don’t want to.”
“Bullshit.”
He sighs, tucking the folder under his arm. “No, it’s not. Not everyone is like you.”
That’s true enough. The past year has illuminated that fact in ways I never thought possible. My best friends, Declan and Cole, have both settled down with women—fallen inlove,which I never thought I’d see happen.
To be honest, it feels like they’re still kidding themselves. The best you can get out of a relationship is good sex, the thrill of thechase, and sometimes the fun of the drama. But long term, if it becomes anything more than that…
Well, I’ve seen how it goes. Lionel can march into my office and accuse me of impropriety all he wants, but at least I didn’t get married before I started sleeping around.
“Listen,” Shane says, resting his hand on my desk. “I don’t care if that man wants you to do forty backflips for the press—you better figure this out. The last thing I want is to run this damned company. I’m a designer, okay? That’s what I went to school for, and that’s what I aim to do. I’m not a fucking CEO.”
I shoot another sideways look at the Eastwood Dubai. The interesting architecture of the building, the unique design—that was all Shane. It’s his main role with the company, even if Lionel forces him to get involved in the oversight of other sectors.
“Fix your mistakes,” Shane urges. “Got it?”
I purse my lips, nodding. “Yeah. You got it.”
“Good.” Shane taps my desk, then turns toward the door. “I’m taking your event idea over to Marketing. You should head out, if you can. Go home. You’ve been here for almost twelve hours.”
I nod again, just realizing how weary I am. “Yeah. Great. Thanks, Shane.”
Once he leaves, I start to pack up, tucking my laptop into its sleeve and checking my emails one last time before I step out into the hallway. As I head for the elevator, I pull out my phone and shoot a message to one of my best friends, Cole.
I don’t bother to wait for his reply. I don’t feel like going home; after that confrontation with Lionel, I could use a friendly face. Cole’s face is statuesque and a little intimidating, but I’ve known him long enough to qualify it as friendly. I’d text Declan, too, but he took his fiancée, Sophie, to the Azores for a few days. They won’t be back until Monday.
