Page 34 of Sweet Wicked Vows
“I’m not leaving.” Evelyn shook her head. “This is my office. This is where I like to work. I am not the one with the problem, so I don’t see why I should be the one to forfeit my space.”
“What’s the difference in working down the hall?”
“All my books are in here.” She motioned to the bookshelves lined with more books than space. “I created my very own sanctuary, including my own personal reading nook. I am not leaving.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Last time I checked,douceur,youhaven’t been announced as CEO yet. Why do you even need an office?”
If looks could kill, Evelyn would have been locked away for my murder.
But I couldn’t stop myself, not when it delighted me so much to see the tendrils of smoldering fires forming in her eyes. “Unless you count spending your father’s money as a job, then I would say you’re in need of a promotion.”
Her lips pursed. “How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Unfortunately for you, your husband.”
Her anger was too delicious. The crinkle of her nose, the several shades of red painting her cheeks and neck, and her beautiful mouth opening and closing as she fought the flurry of words she wanted to say.
Give it to me,douceur. Let me hear what that perfect mouth was capable of.
“Not that it’s any of your damn business, but I do have a job,” Evelyn seethed. “I’m a journalist, not that you probably think it’s a real job like many other people.” The bitterness seeped into her words. “I’ve been working withLilypad Pressfor over a year.”
“I’m aware.”
She snapped open her laptop. “Then you know fine and well why I need a damn office.”
The familiar itch of curiosity got the better of me. “Your fatherdoes not approve of your career?”
Her eyes didn’t leave her screen. “He supports it.”
“Then who doesn’t believe it is a real job?”
“My… it doesn’t matter anymore.” Her fingers stilled over the keyboard. “Not that any of it matters anymore. I will have to resign from my position once Dad steps down.”
Silence weighed between us.
The anger subsided, her shoulders relaxing and her breathescaping in a low, drawn-out sigh. “This was always my dream job. For my words to make a difference one day.”
A spike of pity pinched between my ribs. “I read one of your articles a couple years back before you started working atLilypad Press.”
“Really?” Her green eyes widened. “What piece did you read?”
“From what I remember, you called me ‘the picture of lonely success’and made reference to my inability to seek out meaningful relationships.” I exhaled a chuckle at her burying her face in her hands. “It was a good piece. It didn’t hold back its punches.”
“Oh god, you read that?” she said. “If you remember, you weren’t the only bachelor I wrote about.”
The idea of her writing about other men, othersinglemen, coated my tongue in a sour taste.
“Well, like I said, it all doesn’t matter anymore.” A glossiness gleamed across her field-green gaze. “It’s funny how quickly our dreams are spoiled by the ugliness of reality.”
“How dramatic,” I said harsher than I intended. “It’s only for a year, Evelyn. I’m sure you can manage that. Once it’s over, you can chase your so-called dreams again.”
A mask of indifference slipped into place as she started to type again. “Be free tomorrow at noon. We have an appointment with the event organizer.”
Maybe it was the hours of battling to keep a cat out of the room, but I didn’t have the strength in me to fight against her as I scheduled the appointment into my calendar.
Chapter Eleven
There were a thousand and one event organizers in New York city alone, yet the one Evelyn finally decided upon and hired was none other than Olivia Garcia.