Page 34 of The Spare
“Why? Are you going to gossip about it with Henry?” she mocked.
“It’s worth gossip? Embarrassed of him?” The same look she’d had since my comment on her clothes was etched on her face. My tone softened. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.”
“You were a boy scout?” A smile tugged at the side of her cheek.
“No.” The furthest thing. I spent the morning completing a hostile takeover of a small biotech company. After months of bleeding their capital dry, we convinced the board to vote on a sale. Venture capitalists were fickle creatures, especially when you drained their profits. Morality was in the eye of the beholder, or in that case, the shareholder. “But it sounds nice.”
She laughed. The warm feathery softness wrapped around me in the cold air. I wanted to hear it over and over again.
Sloan didn’t answer my original question. Instead, we walked awkwardly in silence.
“Visiting your empty office?” I asked. She had said she went to visit her grandfather, but I needed something to cut the rest of the lingering tension.
She had an office on the executive floor of Amari Global waiting, should she ever take her family’s offer of joining the ranks. Despite her bickering with Henry, it seemed like it was never truly something she wanted.
“Oh, that,” she began. I hated how much it bugged me that she had been there. I couldn’t get the image of Preston Scott hitting on her out of my head. “No, I like reminding Henry that he’s one misplaced insult away from a coup.”
I chuckled despite myself. She was kidding. She had to be. There was no way she was still truly vying for control of the company.
She grinned and looked up at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. “What makes you think I’m joking?”
I couldn’t tell if she was serious. My heart sank at the possibility that she was.
I didn’t answer.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding. Jeez, lighten up.”
Sloan gestured in the direction of the street she wanted to turn onto, and I followed a step behind her. Seeing her wrapped in my suit jacket made the realization that I was walking her to a date cut deeper.
It wasn’t long before we got to the bar in question.
She turned to face me again. “Don’t worry, I won’t stay out too late.” A sly grin grew along her face. “CeCe is pretty strict about the three-date rule.”
CeCe. CeCe Cummings. Female.
Relief flooded me. I took a deep breath, and the vice grip around my chest finally eased. Sloan looked victorious, and the sly smile grew into a friendly one.
Sloan turned to the door and waved when she saw CeCe inside waiting for her. “Thanks,” she said, and handed my suit jacket back over to me.
“Give me your jacket.” My command was pleasant. She cocked her head in amusement, opened her bag, and gave it to me.
“You don’t look ridiculous.” I threw it over her shoulders. Honestly, she looked cold. “You look pretty.”
It was a terrible compliment, but what I really thought wasn’t suitable for a public setting.
She rewarded me with a small laugh, clearly unconvinced. “Thank you for the company.” She grinned and pulled me into a hug before saying goodbye.
I held her a moment longer than I should have, breathing in the scent of lavender in her hair. I had to remind myself to let go. It was easy to hold her, almost like I was meant to.
You weren’t.
“What are friends for?” I watched as she disappeared inside, then turned to head back to work. The unwelcome jealousy served to unearth a memory I’d been searching for.
When I realized a shift had occurred.
It was a couple of years ago. Xander was throwing a party to celebrate buying his house in Southampton, technically a housewarming.
Of course, Sloan was in attendance. I arrived early the day of and spent most of it with her. While the party staff prepared, we lounged around Xander’s palatial new home. She was attractive, sure. Spending most of the morning with her at the pool affirmed that.
