Black Ties and White Lies(41)

“You’re the one that keeps pointing out that this is fake. Is a proposal necessary if it’s just for show?” The way he says just for show makes me wonder how much I wounded his ego by my insistence on keeping things platonic between us. Well, as platonic as two people who want to jump the hell out of each other’s bones can be.

I slide a pair of nude brown heels off the shelf, sliding my foot in each one. The shoes give me a few extra inches, allowing me to look Beck in the eye a little better than before. My hand runs down his black tie, smoothing it out even though it wasn’t necessary at all. I play with the silver clip on it. “The sentiment behind the proposal might be fake”—I begin, risking looking up at him—“but we could still pretend.”

The tension lingering between us is so thick. Part of me wants to find out if his words were true. If I wanted to kiss him, would he let me? Or would I have to beg for it like he threatened? It’d be so easy to find out. It’d feel so good, but I think better of it.

No matter how bad I want to sleep with Beckham Sinclair—which is past the point of bad and encroaching on desperation—I know better. He’s the older brother of the man who broke my heart. The much better, hotter, richer version of Carter. I know how easy I’d give my heart over to Beck, and it’s not something I’m willing to do.

Fucking him would probably change my life. Eventually I’d mistake lust for love, and I’ve been in the terrible cycle of heartbreak I’ve been trying to avoid after Carter.

I attempt to step around Beck but he grabs me by the elbow, pulling me against his body. “Ezra is going to drop me off at the office for my meeting and then will return for you. Get ready.” He looks me up and down. I look put together from the neck down, but I definitely have to get makeup on my face and do my hair before anyone in that place can see me. “Make an impression when you show up, Margo. You are the future Mrs. Sinclair after all.”

Beckham Sinclair plays fucking dirty. He leans in, grabbing both of my cheeks and eyeing me with a look that doesn’t seem as simple as lust. Not at all.

And that’s your problem, Margo, I tell myself. You’ll mistake want for something far deeper when it isn’t. It’s a dangerous flaw to have when your heart isn’t as whole as it used to be.

He lays a soft kiss to my forehead before stepping away and leaving the closet.

I’m left watching him, wondering why I just want to allow myself to sleep with him already.

I’m scared he’s right. It’ll happen eventually, and the dark glint in his eyes tell me he’ll make me beg for it. Beckham Sinclair doesn’t like his ego bruised, and I’ve done that by denying him. The best part of it all—or maybe the worst—is I’m extremely turned on by the thought of him making me beg.





To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]





Just got to the office. I’m about to be walking into a meeting. When I leave, I expect coffee waiting for me. Absolutely no hint of lavender or anything else they do on the west coast.





Don’t be late.

Beck





I drop the hot curling iron into the sink, reading his email three more times to make sure I read it right. Is that really my job now? Am I getting this dressed up to get him coffee? Sighing, I start typing a response, feeling brave with him not right in front of me.



To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]





So I’ve gone from designing penis pens to grabbing coffee? Not sure if that’s an upgrade or not.





Your glorified coffee runner,

Margo





Happy with myself, I smile, placing my phone on the counter and picking up my curling iron once again. I’ve already completed putting a small amount of makeup on. I probably had way too much fun with all of the new products I got shopping yesterday. It made putting makeup on a lot more entertaining than I usually find it. Some of the products I had no idea what to do with, or what order to use them in. Do I use cream blush after foundation but before bronzer? Does eyebrow gel go before the pencil? These are questions I’ll have to ask Emma and Winnie the next time we talk. Luckily, my dark, thick eyebrows don’t exactly need any product on them, so I swiped some gel on them and called it good. I’m positive my friends will jump at the opportunity to show me how to use the new products, both of them far more into makeup than I’ve ever been.

I’m finishing up curling the long tendrils of my dark hair when my phone pings. Triple checking I’ve turned the iron off, I place it on the hot pad for my hair tools and check the new alert. I’m biting back a smile reading Beck's response.



To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]





You’d rather do anything than design those hideous pens ever again. You know it. I know it. Let’s not pretend that was enjoyable in the slightest.

I would’ve grabbed coffee with my assistant this morning, but she was too busy having a wet dream about me. Tell me, was I licking that little cunt of yours or was I fucking it?