Beholden (The Belonging Duet, #2)(82)

Jackson: Did you know a female ferret would die if it goes into heat and doesn’t find a man to satisfy her?

Me: Good thing I’m not a ferret.

Jackson: If you need some satisfaction, I’m right here, baby. I’d be on my plane before you finish talking.

Me: I’m not surprised.

Jackson: You know I’m happy to be of service. I’ve been known to be equated to God by someone a few times.

Me: She must’ve been confusing you with someone else.

Jackson: Take it back.

I laugh at the easy banter we have via text message.

Me: Did I bruise your ego?

Jackson: I’m going to bruise your ass if you don’t take that shit back.

Me: I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Reception is really bad here.

Jackson: Funny, I’ll be sure to hold off your orgasm the next time. Or maybe I won’t let you come at all.

I begin to respond but I can’t type the words. There won’t be a next time. Unless I pack up my things and leave right now. And there’s a huge part of me that wants to, but that would mean losing what I love to do. Back to square one.

In time, I know everything will fade. The memories, the pain, and eventually our love will cease to exist. It’s reality and no matter how hard I fight, our separation in distance will cause a fault in our relationship. I relax into the sofa and hold on to the last touch we shared, hoping we’ll find our way back together again. As the exhaustion overtakes me, I close my eyes and see him there in my dreams, waiting with open arms.

“Catherine?” I hear someone calling. “Catherine, are you okay?” I hear a deep baritone voice and open my eyes to a man standing in my living room.

Why is it so damn bright?

Who the hell is in my house?

I leap off of the sofa and shuffle backwards.

His hands fly up and he backs away. “Sorry to scare you, but the door was unlocked. I’m Tristan.”

“Oh my God,” I grab my throat and focus on breathing. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I called five times and got a little worried that you didn’t get here. So I came to check on you this morning. I knocked and then when the door opened, I got nervous,” he says slowly lowering his arms.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“You should really lock the door at night,” he chides as I rub my chest trying to get my heart rate back to normal.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or punch you.”

“I’d rather the first option if I get a choice.”

Tristan smiles and I give myself a second to look at him. He’s tall, lean, and has dark brown hair. His eyes are a lighter brown than mine and his smile is mesmerizing. It’s obvious that he takes care of himself by the way his clothes fit. The muscles on his arms are impressive. Tristan moves with grace as he looks around the apartment.

“Wow, this place is way better than where I live,” he muses.

What time is it?

“Am I late to our meeting?”

“No, I was just worried.”

I grab for my phone. Sure enough, I have nine missed calls—five from Tristan, one from Ashton, and three from Jackson. The men in my life apparently don’t think I can take care of myself, and one of them doesn’t even know me.

“Sorry, I was beat. I must’ve passed out. Thank you for checking on me though.”

He smiles warmly, “Taylor called me and gave me very strict instructions and informed me if I screwed up she’d make sure I paid for it.”

A smile paints across my face as I imagine my cute, little, Midwestern friend threatening Tristan.

“She’s all talk, but I appreciate it. I’m gonna get changed real quick. We can grab some food and then get to work.”

“I’ll meet you in the courtyard,” he says as he heads out of the apartment.

Looking myself over in the mirror, I’m deeply embarrassed. This definitely wasn’t the impression I was hoping to give. I have the lines from the throw pillow across my cheek, my hair is knotted and sticking up in random directions. Quickly, I brush my teeth and hair. Throwing on my capris and a cute top, I hope for ‘gym cute’ or maybe ‘hobo chic,’ because right now all I see is ‘hot mess.’

Tristan takes me to the restaurant down the street. We grab some coffee and a few things we can eat in the office. The drive from my apartment into the L.A. office is around forty minutes, but I was adamant that I wanted to be close to the ocean and not living in the city.

Once we reach the office, we settle in and start to make a plan. Some of the clients we already secured will be meeting with us this week. There’s a lot to do to ensure the space is ready. Tristan already ordered some of the furniture and it’ll deliver in the next few days.

“So, how did someone as young as you get so high up?” Tristan asks as we start to put some files away.

“Well, I busted my ass. I started as an intern while I was still in college, then I got hired full time. From there I made sure I was always on top of my game. I worked extra hours, helped without being asked, and became invaluable. At least that was my plan.”

“I’d like to be a publicist after I prove myself.”

“I’m sure you will.” I smile at how he was able to let me know his goals without being uncomfortable about it. “I had a fantastic assistant in New York and she’s now running accounts on her own. I don’t believe in holding anyone back.” As the words slide out, I’m brought back to Jackson. One day I’ll be able to talk without somehow circling back to him.