The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(22)

“I do—oh my fucking God.” Aaron hits her on the arm in excitement. “What happened?”

“He asked me out to dinner.”

“What the actual fuck?” Molly cries really loud.

“Shh,” I whisper as I look at the people around us. “Keep your voice down.”

“Are you serious?” she whispers.

“I said no.”

“What?” Aaron cries this time.

“Keep. Your. Voice. Down,” I demand. “I can’t go out with him. I have a boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend’s a dick. You even said so yourself,” Molly stammers.

“I know, but I’m not wired like that. I would never cheat on somebody.”

Aaron shakes his head. “Jameson Miles could wire me any way he wanted to.”

“Right?” Molly agrees. “What happened today?”

“He marched me up to his office and accused me of getting hit on in my working time.”

Their mouths fall open in horror.

“And . . .” I pause. I probably shouldn’t tell them we are being watched. I’ll keep that one to myself. I dig out his card from my wallet and slide it across the table, and Molly picks it up and stares at it. “Even his name is hot.” She reads the card out loud. “Jameson Miles. Miles Media. 212-639-8999.”

“I told him he couldn’t have everything he wanted, and he said he does, and then he licked my neck,” I blurt out.

“He licked your neck?” Aaron shrieks. “Oh Lord have mercy.” He picks up the menu and begins to fan his face. “Please tell me you’re going out with him tonight.”

“No.” I shrug. “I can’t, and besides, it’s the fastest way I know how to get fired.”

“No job is that good,” Aaron snaps. “I wouldn’t turn him down to be the fucking president.”

We all giggle, and then my phone vibrates across the table.

“Oh . . . my fucking God,” Molly whispers as she stares at my phone. “It’s him.”

“What?” I stammer as I look down at the number lighting up the screen.

She holds up the business card in her hands, and we compare them.

“The number calling you is fucking him.”

My eyes widen. Holy shit.





Chapter 5

“Answer it, answer it,” Aaron cries.

“What do I do?” I flap my arms around in a panic.

“Holy fuck. Answer it,” Molly demands as she picks it up.

“Don’t answer it,” I stammer as I try to grab it from her hands. She holds it in the air and waves it around.

“Answer it, woman,” she demands.

I snatch it from her and stare at it while it buzzes. “I’m not going to answer it.”

Aaron snatches the phone from me and hits answer. “Hello,” he says in a fake girl’s voice, and then he passes it over to me.

“What the fuck?” I mouth.

“Hello, Emily,” Jameson’s velvety voice purrs.

My eyes widen as I look at my friends’ awestruck faces. Aaron crosses himself as if he’s in church and makes a praying gesture.

“Hello.”

“Where are you?” he asks.

“In a bar.” I glance around as I hold my hand over my other ear to try to hear him better. Shit, I’m not telling him where I am; I look like crap. I hold my breath as I listen.

“I want to see you.”

I bite my bottom lip, and Molly hits me on the arm to snap me out of my nervous freeze. “I told you I have a boyfriend,” I blurt out. “I can’t see you.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Aaron mouths to Molly as he scrunches his hands in his hair.

“And I told you to get rid of him.”

“Who do you think you are?” I stammer.

Molly and Aaron listen intently.

“Go outside. I can’t hear you,” he barks.

I stand and walk through the bar and outside onto the curb, and it falls silent.

“That’s better,” he says.

I glance up the street at the cabs all in a row. “What do you want, Jameson?”

“You know what I want.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“And I told you what to do.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is. Give me his number, and I’ll save you the job.”

I smirk at the audacity of this man. “You know, your arrogance is a turnoff.”

That’s a blatant lie—not even close.

“And you’re a turn-on. I’ve been hard all day. Get over here, and put me out of my misery.”

I hear my heartbeat in my ears. Is this really happening?

A drunk couple totter past me, and I have to move so they don’t run into me. “Sorry,” they call.

“I’m flying out to California in the morning,” I blurt out.

“To see him?”

“Yes.”

“He stayed behind?”

I scrunch my face up tight. Damn it. Why did I say that? “Yes.”

“When you see him, I want you to do something for me.”

“What’s that?”