Say the Word(100)

“Baby, wait until you see my dress for Centennial! It’s Vera Wang. Totally gorgeous.”

“Cara, you’re late.” I was relieved to hear the frustrated undercurrents in Sebastian’s voice — a common occurrence whenever he spoke to the model. “We had the ’50s shoot this morning. You missed it.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Cara whined, her voice that of a petulant child. “Let’s go shoot it.”

“I don’t need you here, Cara. Go home.”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t need me?’ I’m the lead model for this spread.”

I could sense her pouting from across the room.

“We shot it without you,” Bash said, his voice weary. “So come back tomorrow. On time.”

“What did you say?” Cara screeched.

“You heard me, Cara. And don’t act so surprised — you know my rules. You didn’t show up; I replaced you. End of story.”

“This is ridiculous!” Cara’s shrill tone made everyone in the office flinch. “I’m calling Jeanine about this.”

“Go ahead.”

Cara stormed to the elevators — or so I thought. When the unmistakable sound of her clomping heels came to a halt directly next to my work station, I looked up to find the model’s glaring eyes narrowed on my face.

“While I’m on the phone with Jeanine, I’ll be sure to tell her what an absolute f*ck up you’ve been here,” she sneered at me. “After the stunt you pulled with my salad, I wanted you fired right away. Sebastian convinced me that your working here would make up for it, though, so I didn’t say anything.” She looked at me with the malicious excitement of a small boy who’d pinned an ant beneath his magnifying glass on a hot summer day. “But you haven’t suffered here at all. In fact, the way I see it, he treats you better than he treats me. So I’ll be speaking to Jeanine about you after all, skank, and I’ll make sure you walk away from here without your job.”

With a final glare, she turned and exited the building. My wide eyes flew from her retreating form to Sebastian, who was already striding in my direction. Beneath the watchful eyes of the score of people in the office, he grabbed my arm and led me to the emergency exit stairwell. When the heavy metal door swung shut at my back, isolating us in the abandoned stairway, he turned to me and let out an exasperated breath.

“What did she say to you?” he asked, running one hand through his hair.

I leaned back against the cool cinderblock wall, as far as I could get from him on the small landing. “Just that she’s going to call my boss and get me fired.”

“Shit.” With a sigh, he leaned against the opposite wall, directly across from me.

“Yeah.” I swallowed roughly, trying to quell my worry.

“Well, it’s not like you enjoy your job, anyway,” Bash’s tone was amused and a quiet chuckle escaped his lips. “Writing about bubble bath and Beyoncé isn’t really your style. No huge loss.”

I lifted incredulous eyes to him. “You think this is funny? Losing my job and only source of income is laughable to you?”

“Lux, I was kidding.” He cracked a smile. “You don’t have to worry about your job. Cara has no power. She might huff and puff and blow a whole lot of smoke up your boss’ ass, but at the end of the day nothing will come of it. She’s a pretty face, nothing more.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, taking a step in my direction and closing some of the gap between us. “But if you want, I can call Jeanine and smooth whatever feathers Cara manages to ruffle.”

“Really?” I asked, swallowing nervously as I watched him move closer.

“Of course.” His smile was warm as he took one final step and entered my space fully. I felt my mouth go dry when he leaned down so our faces were at eye level. “For a price,” he whispered against my lips.

I let out an embarrassing nervous squeak and tried to shrink back against the wall, but there was nowhere to go.

“Nervous, Freckles?” he asked, his voice amused. “Whatever for? You haven’t even heard the price yet. And from what I remember of last night — I think you might enjoy my price quite a bit.”

Breathe. Just breathe. Ignore everything he just said. Don’t think about how much you would definitely enjoy any price he set for you. Don’t drool on him — that would be bad. And do not, under any circumstances, let him kiss you.

“I’m not nervous,” I lied, placing both palms against his chest and pushing him slightly out of my space. “You should be, though. I’m pretty sure this is sexual harassment.” My small grin of triumph dissipated as soon as he leaned against my hands, his breath once again ghosting across my lips and sending shivers down my spine.

“Freckles, you can sexually harass me any time you want.”

“I hate you, remember?” I smiled at him caustically, not realizing my poor word choice until I saw his eyes go liquid with heat — there was no doubt he recalled yesterday evening, the last time I’d said those words to him.

Shit. Seeing those memories in his gaze, I felt my own control slipping away.

“Oh, I remember,” he whispered. His eyes watched my mouth as he leaned forward, his pupils dilating when my tongue darted out to wet my parched lips. He came ever closer, and I waged an internal war. I wanted his kiss, needed it, more than my next breath — but that didn’t mean I could have it.