Page 7 of Accidental Vegas Vows
Something that made the nausea turn to butterflies.
But that wasn’t appropriate.
I stared out the window of the taxi as we passed the Golden Gate Cemetery, temptation eating away at me. If he meant more than what was written, and if my potential full-time role depended on me playing along, surely that was something HR needed to be aware of. But it was his company and his alone. He could act the way he pleased no matter what HR said.
There was someone I could speak to about this, though.
I pulled up Sophie’s contact on my phone and pressed the call button, lifting my phone to my ear. I’d be at the airport in less than ten minutes with the way traffic was moving, and I needed to know in that ten minutes just how nervous and uncomfortable I would be for the next two days in Vegas.
“Aren’t you meant to be getting on a private jet right about now?”
I snorted into the phone. “I doubt Mr. Blackwood went that far.”
“Mr. Blackwood?” She cackled, the sound quickly becoming muffled. “God, you’re so lucky I’m on lunch. The rest of HR would have had a field day with that.”
The thought of the entire human resources department laughing at me instead of just Sophie made me cringe. “Should I not call him that?” I asked.
“Christ, no. I think you’d send him to an early grave if you called him that to his face,” she chuckled. “And for the record, you are flying private. All of the attendees are.”
“Jesus,” I breathed, directing my attention out the window as we went straight past the entrance to the airport. “I wanted to run something by you real quick if that’s okay. Work-related, not friend-related.”
“Shoot.”
“It’s something I, uh, failed to mention a few days ago when I told you about the offer he’d extended,” I started. I glanced at the taxi driver in the rearview mirror, tempting fate as his brown eyes met mine briefly. “He added a P.S. at the bottom of the email. He mentioned my… wardrobe malfunction.”
“You mean your breasts being in his face?” she laughed.
“They were not in his face, Sophie.”
“Same difference.”
“He said to make sure my attire was as put together as my presentation,” I whispered, hoping the taxi driver wouldn’t hear me over the car’s engine and the faint classical music from his speakers. “Should I… report that? Like, to you?”
“Report it?” The slight sound of her chewing filtered down the phone, and her next words were around a mouthful. “I mean, if it made you uncomfortable, go for it.”
I bit down on the end of my thumbnail as the taxi turned into the bay labeled Signature Flight Support. “I don’t know if it did.”
“Then don’t report it.”
“What do you think he meant by it?”
“What do you think he meant by it?” she parroted, a little giggle leaking from between bites of her food. “He was probably just giving you a word of warning in case you always walked around with your tits out.”
“He put a winky face next to it,” I added. I could feel my cheeks heating as the driver’s eyes met mine again briefly, his eyes crinkling at the edges as if he were grinning.
“Well that changes everything,” she drawled, sarcasm thick in every syllable. “Seriously, Liv, you’re overthinking it. Maybe he just wants to fuck you.”
I nearly choked on my saliva.
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t want that,” Sophie laughed. “You’ve been talking about him all Goddamn week. Just have fun in Vegas and if his behavior bothers you, I’ll note it down and handle it.”
“Oh my God,” I mumbled.
“Love ya! Have fun!”
The call disconnected the same moment that the driver put the car into park and shoved open his door. I swallowed, my nausea only doubling as I realized there was a very good chance that she was right. Maybe he did want to have sex with me.
The idea of telling him no was somehow harder to imagine than any other scenario I’d pictured involving him over the past week.
