Page 66 of Dear John

“She is amazing,” Kavanaugh beamed, hopefully saving his asinine comments. But then he opened his mouth again. “Then again, it seems a little strange to me that you would fly in a woman for an interview that you’ve never met before, put her up in a fancy hotel, and pay for all expenses. I would think agrowing company would put more stock in what she can offer and less in trying to manipulate her with free things.”

I wanted to die. Seriously, if the ground swallowed me up right now and I suffocated a horrible death, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as sitting through this interview and watching my boyfriend tank the whole thing out of some insane need to protect me from a client.

“I don’t think he’s trying to buy me,” I smiled at Jerry. “And I appreciate the value you put on my work.”

Jerry shifted his attention back to me, but I could tell this interview was coming to an end quickly. “Like I said, your ideas are wonderful. As for the other stuff?—”

“No need to explain. I took it as a compliment that you felt I was worth all the trouble to get out here.”

“Well…I think that’s a good place to end things for now. I’d like to discuss this further with my wife. She couldn’t be here today. Maybe we can meet again tomorrow when she’s available.” His eyes flicked to Kavanaugh. “Perhaps alone.”

“Of course,” I said, getting to my feet. I gathered my things as quickly as possible. The need to run from the building and never return was strong, but if I could survive a second meeting, I might just get the job. I held out my hand and shook his, hoping Kavanaugh hadn’t ruined everything. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“How does ten o’clock sound?”

“Perfect.”

And with that, I was turning around and striding out the door. My heels clacked on the tile, and I pretended that with every step, I was stabbing one of my stilettos into Kavanaugh’s heart. I heard him rushing to catch up to me, but the way I was feeling right now, he didn’t want to be within ten feet of me. Luckily, the elevator doors were opening just as I approached. I got on and glared at him, not that he avoided me because of the look on my face.

“Will you hold this?” I asked, shoving my briefcase at him.

He grabbed it, falling back against the wall with how hard I shoved it at him. Then I slipped off the elevator and headed for the stairs. I kicked off my shoes and was running down them before I heard the door open behind me.

“Isla!”

I didn’t care what his excuse was. There was no need for the bullshit he just pulled in there. He could have cost me a job. My feet pounded down the stairs and my shoes dangled from my fingertips as I rounded each corner. I pushed open the door at the foot of the stairs and poured out into the lobby, quickly slipping on my shoes before rushing out the front door.

With a quick look in either direction, I settled on heading right. There were more people on the sidewalk, which would make it easier to lose him. My hair was another issue. I turned down a street and then slipped into a coffee house, waiting in the corner to see if he’d followed me.

“Running from someone?”

His voice sent a shiver down my spine. Spinning around, I nearly smacked him for scaring the shit out of me. “IKE, what the hell are you doing here?”

His smirk was the only answer he gave. Then his eyes flicked toward the window and he pulled me back a step as Kavanaugh strode past, looking in all directions. He shoved his fingers through his hair as he desperately searched for me. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want to see him now, and not even his panic over losing me would make me step out of the shop. Finally, he turned and headed back in the direction he came.

“I take it all is not well in paradise,” he murmured, his breath slithering over my skin. I shivered at the warmth and quickly stepped away from him, angry at how easily he riled me up.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”

“Because your boyfriend asked me for a favor.”

“To spy on me?” I asked, my eyes narrowing on him.

“No, to look into something. I just happened to see you speed-walking down the street and I thought I’d find out why.”

“So, you weren’t following me?” I asked, not believing him for a second.

“If I was following you, I would have told you when you asked. Coffee?”

I didn’t want to spend any time with IKE. He made me…feel things. Not necessarily for him, but he had a way of pulling information out of me that I wasn’t sure I wanted to give. But I had rushed out of the hotel this morning without a bite of food, despite Kavanaugh demanding I eat breakfast. “Sure. But you’d better be buying. My wallet is in my briefcase, and my briefcase is with Kavanaugh.”

He grunted and walked over to the counter, pulling out his own wallet. I scoured the menu for something that looked good, then ordered half the pastry menu and a coffee.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“So, how was the interview?”