The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(100)

“Tell me what you know,” I ask again.

“Well, it’s a tangled web.”

I sip my wine as I watch him. I’m so nervous about what he’s about to tell me that I feel sick.

“Apparently there is a huge story coming out tomorrow.”

I sip my wine. “About?”

“Well . . .” He pauses. “I think I’m going to get the wedges; do you want wedges?”

“Fine, get the wedges,” I snap.

He keeps looking at the menu, and I’m about to explode. Pick some food, you damn fool. “I’ll get the wedges,” I say as I stand in a rush. “Is that it? Is that all you want?”

“Uh-huh.”

I march to the counter. “Can I have a bowl of wedges and a trio of dipping sauces, please?”

I exhale heavily as I try to calm myself down. Just be calm.

“Emily.” I hear a voice behind me.

“Is that all?” the waiter asks me.

“Yes, please.” I smile as I turn back toward the voice that just called me.

Jake grabs my hand and kisses me on the lips.

I step back, shocked. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.” He smiles as he leans in to kiss me again.

I jump back and out of his reach. “What the hell, Jake? I don’t like you like that,” I snap as I wipe my mouth.

“I thought that since we were on a date . . .”

“What?” I stammer, horrified. “I came here to find out about Jameson.”

He smiles a broad, cheeky smile and then winks.

I glare at him. “There’s no breaking story, is there?”

He shrugs. “We could make the story about the wild night we spend together.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I snap. “I am not interested in you.”

“Oh, but you should be.” He grabs my hand again, and I push him hard in the chest.

“Stop it.”

“That will be twenty-two dollars,” the poor waiter says as he looks between us.

“I’m not paying for this imbecile’s wedges,” I snap. “Goodbye, Jake,” I say as I storm toward the door.

“Emily . . . come on. We would be great together,” he calls.

I stumble out of the bar, furious, as steam shoots from my ears. I’ve been stressed out all day, and for what?

Stupid Jake’s lie to get me on my own.

The guy’s a fucking sleazebag. And now I can’t even go home because I lied to Jay about where I am.

I walk into a Thai restaurant, and the waiter approaches me.

“Can I have a table for one, please?” I ask sadly. I’ll just eat dinner alone and then go home to my man.

I can’t believe I fell for that trick. What an asshole.

At least there’s no story.

Jameson

I bend and kiss Emily on the forehead in the dark. She’s still sleeping. “I’m going, babe.”

“Hmm.” She wraps her arms around me and pulls me down on top of her. “No, don’t go. Play hooky today.”

I smile in her arms. “I can’t; I have a meeting this morning.” I sigh. I have so much damage control to do. Even though the immediate story-leak threat has come to an end, this battle with Ferrara is nowhere near over. If anything, I feel it’s about to come to a head. “Two days until we go away,” I remind her.

She smiles with her eyes closed. “Two days is too long, Mr. Miles. One of these days I’m going to kidnap you.”

We kiss softly, again and again, and I can feel my arousal grow between my legs. I pull back from her. “I’ve got to go,” I whisper into her hair. “If I stay here, I’m going to fuck you and be late.”

“Good.” She smirks. “Fuck me and be late.”

I chuckle against her lips, and with one long, last, lingering kiss, I get up and stare at her lying in my bed, which is all messed up. She smiles up at me, and my heart constricts. Nothing has ever looked so perfect . . . or felt so right. Even with all this shit going on, Emily instills in me a sense of calm, as if the whole world is still all right because we have each other. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” She smiles as she sits up and makes a last-minute attempt to drag me back to bed.

It’s so fucking hard to leave when she’s like this.

I make my way downstairs and see my trusty friend Alan standing beside the car.

“Morning.” I smile.

He gives me a sad smile, and I frown. “Everything all right?”

He opens the door of the limo, and Tristan, Christopher, and Elliot are in the back, waiting for me.

I frown. “Hi.” My eyes flick to Alan in question. “What’s going on?”

“Get in.” Elliot sighs.

I glance between them; their faces are solemn, and I know something has happened. “Is dad all right?” I ask.

“Dad’s fine.”

“Mom?”

“She’s great. Get in.”

I get in and close the door, and the limo pulls out into the traffic.

“I want you to know that we don’t believe anything about this, and we are simply here for you,” Tristan says.

“What’s going on?” I snap as agitation washes over me.