Page 2 of Wright Together
I snapped the paperwork shut. “What? I have a partner?”
“We wanted someone who was familiar with the area. You did just say that you’d never been there.”
He had me there.
“I see. And when will I meet this agent?”
Jordan checked the Rolex on his wrist and pursed his lips. “Hmm. She’s late. Should have been here already actually.”
It was my turn to be affronted. “It’s fifteen past. Was she supposed to be here top of the hour?”
He nodded. “Yes. Let me check in to see if something happened.”
“How unprofessional.”
Jordan shot me an amused look as he pulled his phone out and started typing away.
I returned to the paperwork Jordan had given me, unable to hide my frustration. It was common knowledge that I took my work seriously. Too seriously. West frequently called me Mr. Responsibility. Harley had laughed at me all summer when I spent the days in my bedroom, staring at a computer. But West was a rockstar in the biggest band in the world right now, and Harley was about to start her sophomore year in college. She might be a genius with a full ride and every intention of becoming an attorney, but things had always come to her easy. Neither of them understood my need for control.
A need that encompassed every part of my life. Home, office, and…in the bedroom.
“No luck,” Jordan said. “Let’s give her a few more minutes.”
“I don’t need a partner. I just thumbed through this. It doesn’t look all that different from what I’ve done in the past. I can do it alone.”
At least then I could guarantee that it was being done correctly.
“This is a big contract. We’re partnering with a local oil family. Do you know Dorset & King?”
The name sounded familiar. “I’ve heard of them. They’re in Midland?”
Jordan grinned. “Yeah, and you’ll need the help. The Kings are a prestigious family. They want the best. So, they came to us. We’re giving this to you because we know you’re good enough. Having a local to partner is a bonus.”
This was my first job after the promotion. I didn’t need someone getting in the way.
I opened my mouth to say that when a woman rushed off of the open elevator and hustled down the hall toward my office in sky-high patent leather heels.
“Sorry!” she gasped. “So sorry I’m late. I had car trouble.”
Eve Houston stood in my doorway, her chest heaving in the white shirt she had underneath a black blazer. Her pencil skirt reached her knees with a small slit up the side. Just enough for my imagination to run wild. Her dark hair was down in waves, and she wore the red lipstick I’d just visualized on her.
My cock throbbed at the sight of her. The way her ample chest jiggled with the exertion from racing here. Those mysterious emerald eyes wide as she took in the room and finally landed on me. Her mouth formed an O, and that did things to me that were utterly inappropriate for the office.
It took everything in me not to adjust my lengthening cock.
“Eve.” I drew her name out across my tongue like I was reciting a prayer.
I hadn’t seen her in weeks, and somehow, she was even more striking than my filthy imagination.
“Oh, Whitt,” she said uncertainly. Her eyes shot between me and Jordan, as if she wasn’t sure who to address.
He wasn’t oblivious to the thick layer of tension in the room. In fact, by the gleam in his eyes, he might have set this whole thing up.
It was at his wedding that Eve and I had danced the night away after all. The night I thought we’d moved past our flirtation to something more. It just turned out that we had different ideas about whatmoremeant.
After her last crash-and-burn relationship, Eve wanted a hookup. And I misread the entire situation and asked for more. I was a relationship guy, and she wasn’t ready for anything like that. No matter our attraction—the attraction I still very much felt—it had all crumbled.
“You were saying?” Jordan muttered in my direction.