When I looked up, Scott was holding out the partnership papers to me. “Just one thing,” he repeated.
“Scott,” I groaned.
“Isabel,” he said sternly. Scott had joked that he still planned on using my full name when he meant business and I found myself surprisingly turned on by it.
I shook my head, laughing. “But I just got a new job.” I had told Scott about my part time remote columnist position with Chicago Weddings, and that I was quite excited about it.
“You can do both.”
I bit my lip. “Forty nine percent.”
His shoulders lowered and he sighed. “Do you know how much it’s going to cost me to have this redrafted, just sign it, dammit.”
I took the pen and held it against the signature line, then gasped, my head snapping up.
“What is it?”
I held my hand to my chest. “Oh my God, there’s something I forgot to tell you.”
He tossed the papers aside and dropped down on one of the pillows. “You’re killing me. There’s more?”
“Spencer Friedman,” I started.
He lifted himself off the floor, glowering at me.
I winced. “You didn’t…did you sign with him yet?”
“No. I turned him down. There was something off about some of the accounts I looked into and I decided I’d find another way to branch out on the west coast.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Isabel?”
I looked up at him. Then quickly rattled off the conversation between Spencer and me when Scott was called away, assuring him that I had no intention of convincing him of anything, but agreed I’d do it in order to stall the man from ratting me out. If Scott was going to find out the truth from anyone, it was going to be me. I began another slew of apologies, but Scott cut me off.
“He threatened you?”
“Yes, but—”
“That son-of-a—” he ran a hand over his face. “Baby, I am so sorry I put you in that situation. You must have…” he shook his head.
“Scott, I can handle people like him. I just hope you know I would have never—”
He touched my face. “I know. I trust you. Now I’m asking that you trust me the same. Be my partner.” He reached beside me and handed me the pen. “In every way.”
EPILOGUE
ELLE
Donovan liftedhis glass for the tenth time that evening, toasting his loyal wife and beautiful friends. I was pretty sure he meant that the other way around. Or at least I hoped he did. Although his speech was beginning to be slurred and his upper body swaying; even with no music playing.
“Oh jeez,” I muttered and searched for Mimi on the floor. I spotted her easily now that Dean finally broke his one rule into a million pieces. I made eye contact with my old colleague from where I stood and signaled her to cut him off for the night.
“Probably a good idea,” Dean appeared beside me, clinking his champagne glass against mine. “We’re ready for dessert anyway shortly.”
“Good, that’s on schedule, right?” Dean turned to me and smirked. “Nothing you need to worry about. You’re a guest here tonight.”
I winced.
