Fuck. Of fucking course this asshole would have a camera in his gym . . . Hell, every main access room is probably equipped with security cameras. He’s always been more paranoid behind that slick demeanor than he lets on.

“What did you see?” I growl, trying to keep my pulsing anger at bay.

“Nothing. Only that Tessa came into the room; he knew better than to continue . . .” Kimberly bites back a grin, and relief floods through me. I was too caught up in the moment, caught up in Tessa, to think about shit like security cams.

I scowl at Vance. “Why were you even watching the footage? That’s pretty fucking creepy that you were watching me work out.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was checking the kitchen monitor, because it had a short; the gym just happened to be playing alongside it at the time.”

“Sure,” I say, stretching the word out.

“Hardin’s staying another night; that’s fine, right?” Kim asks him.

“Of course it’s fine. I don’t know why your ass isn’t here to stay anyway. You know I’ll pay you more than Bolthouse.”

“You didn’t the first time—that was the problem,” I remind him with a smug grin.

“That’s because you were only a freshman in college at the time. You were lucky to have a paid internship, let alone an actual job, without a degree.” He shrugs, trying to dismiss my argument.

I cross my arms in defense. “Bolthouse disagrees with you.”

“They are twats. Need I remind you that in the last year alone, Vance Publishing has surpassed them by a huge margin. I’ve expanded here to Seattle, and I plan on opening a New York office by next year.”

“Is there a point to all this bragging?” I ask.

“Yes. Point is, Vance is better, bigger, and happens to be where she’s working.” He doesn’t have to say Tessa’s name for me to feel the weight of his words. “You’ll be graduating after this semester; don’t make an impulsive decision now that will impact the entirety of your career before it even begins.” He takes a quick bite of the fruit in his hand, and I scowl at him, trying to think of a sharp reply.

I can’t seem to come up with one. “Bolthouse has an office in London.”

He looks at me in mocking disbelief. “Who’s going back to London? You?” He doesn’t hide the sarcasm in his voice.

“Possibly. I had planned on it and still am.”

“Yeah, so did I.” He glances at his future wife. “You’ll never go back to live there, just as I won’t either.”

Kimberly flushes and gushes at his words, and I come to the conclusion that they’re the most obnoxious couple I’ve ever encountered. It’s like you can see how much they love each other just by watching them interact. It’s annoying and uncomfortable.

“Point proven.” Christian snickers.

“I didn’t agree with you,” I snap.

“Yes,” Kimberly butts in, like the ballbuster she is. “But you didn’t disagree either.”

Without another word, I take my coffee mug and my balls as far away from Kimberly as I can get them.

chapter

one hundred and one

TESSA

The morning arrives much too quickly, and when I wake up, I’m alone in the bed. The empty side of the mattress still bears the imprint of Hardin’s body, so he must have gotten up only a few minutes ago.

Right on cue, he enters the room quietly, coffee mug in hand.

“Good morning,” he says when he notices that I’m awake.

“Morning.” My throat is tight and dry. Images of Hardin moving in and out of my mouth with furious thrusts makes my insides tighten.

“Are you feeling okay?” He places the steaming mug of coffee on the dresser and walks over to the bed. He sits down next to me on the edge of the mattress. “Answer me,” he calmly adds when I take too long to respond.

“Yeah, just sore.” I stretch my arms and legs out in front of me. Yes . . . definitely sore. “Where did you go?”

“I went to get some coffee, and I had to call Landon to tell him I won’t be home today,” he tells me. “If you still want me to stay, that is.”

“I do.” I nod at him. “But why do you have to tell Landon?”

Hardin runs his hand over his hair, and his eyes concentrate on reading my expression. I get the feeling that I’m missing something here.

“Answer me,” I say, using his own words back at him.

“He’s babysitting your dad.”

“Why?” Why would my father need a babysitter?

“Your dad’s trying to get sober, that’s why. And I’m not stupid enough to leave him at that apartment by himself.”

“You have liquor there, don’t you?”

“No, I tossed it. Just drop this, okay?” His tone is no longer gentle; it’s urgent, and he’s clearly on edge.

“I’m not going to just drop it. Is there something that I should know? Because I feel like I’m being left out of the loop here, again.” I cross my arms over my chest and he takes a deep, dramatic breath, his eyes closing with the gesture.

“Yes, there is something that you don’t know about, but I’m begging you to just trust me, okay?”

“How bad?” I ask; the possibilities terrify me.

“Just trust me, okay?”

“Trust you to do what?”

“Trust that I will take care of all of this shit so that by the time I tell you what happened, it won’t matter anymore. You have enough shit going on right now; please, just trust me on this. Let me do this for you, and let it go,” he urges.

The initial paranoia and panic that always come with these types of situations flutter through me, and I’m moments away from snatching Hardin’s phone from him and calling Landon myself. The look on Hardin’s face, though, stops me. He’s pleading for me to trust him on this, trust that he’ll be able to fix whatever it is that’s going on; and to tell the truth, as much as I want to know, I don’t think I can handle another problem on my already full plate.

“Okay.” I sigh.

His brows furrow, and he cocks his head to the side. “Really?” He’s astounded by how easy it was to persuade me to back off, I’m sure.

“Yes. I’ll do my best not to worry about the situation with my dad as long as you can promise me that it’s better for me not to know.”

He nods. “I promise.”

I believe him, mostly.

“Fine.” I finalize the agreement with the word and try my best to push my obsessive need to know what’s happening to the back of my mind. I need to trust Hardin with this. I need to trust him of my own resolve. If I can’t trust him with this, how can I entertain a future for us at all?

I sigh, and Hardin smiles at my acquiescence.

chapter

one hundred and two

TESSA

Looks like I’ll be filling out these thank-you cards to the guests who made last night’s club opening such a big success,” Kimberly says with a wry grin and a wave of an envelope when I enter the kitchen. “What are the two of you planning for today?”

A look at the stack of cards she’s already addressed, and the pile she’s still working on, makes me wonder just how many businesses Christian has invested in, if all those people she’s writing to were “partners” of some sort. The size of this house alone has to mean he has more enterprises going on than just Vance Publishing and a single jazz club.

“I’m not sure. We’ll figure it out when Hardin gets out of the shower,” I tell her, and slide a fresh stack of small envelopes across the granite countertop.

I had to force Hardin into the bathroom to take a shower alone; he was still irritated with me for locking him out of the bathroom while I took mine. No matter how many times I tried to explain to him how awkward I’d feel if the Vances knew we were showering together in their home, he’d give me a weird little look and argue that we’d done much worse in their house than shower together over the past twelve hours.