Victor watches Jenny as she moves through the meeting. His eyes land on her ass in her pencil skirt enough times that my mood sours.
“Bro, your resting bitch face is showing,” Brady whispers.
I relax but my stare remains on the older man. He licks his lips, staring right at her body and I sit up.
“Yeah, I saw that. He needs to die. Old fuck.” His instant dislike of Victor the Twat makes me love him even more.
We are both glaring the pervert to death when Jenny wraps it up. “And that is everything, so thank you for coming in. And we promise the stands will be filled with screaming fans next season.”
Coach stands and walks directly to her. I know him, he wants to see the proof and numbers she was speaking of. He is a predictably grumpy old man. Instead, I hear him apologize, “I didn’t recognize you, kid. I’m sorry for sounding so—”
“No, please don’t apologize. I understand. And normally the people in the office wouldn’t be able to comprehend how hard a hockey season is.” She is desperate for him not to bring it up.
“Then we are lucky to have you on our side,” he says as his cheeks blush.
His words surprise her and she offers her real smile, making my heart swell with pride like an idiot. She isn’t mine to be proud of. Not yet.
Coach says goodbye and I take my chance, nodding my head at the door to the office. She walks over and follows me through the door, slipping her hand in my arm and pulling me to the left instead of the right where everyone is walking for the elevator.
Brady and Matt follow me with their stare. I wave them off and let her corner me in a small alcove.
“I just want to say sorry—”
“No.” She loses the office mask. Her eyes are wide with emotion. “I’m so embarrassed. I drank all the champagne and didn’t eat and I was already so upset—”
“Jenny.” I take her hand in mine but she doesn’t squeeze back.
“Lawrence,” the way she says my name is different. It’s cold like it was when we first met. “I should have said something before but I just got out of a relationship.” She closes her eyes and pauses. “I’m an idiot. I—we broke up—I—” She searches the ceiling for the words and can’t seem to get her breath. “It’s been a week. It was last Tuesday. It’s why I was such a mess when I met you. So emotional and crazy and it took me a couple of days to settle into the wedding.”
Her words are a knife to the heart.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t say something. I honestly thought it was a one-night stan—”
“It’s cool,” my fucking voice betrays me and cracks as I step back, letting go of her hand. “I get it. It was nice meeting you too.” I manage to keep it together but my whole body is at odds with me.
“Lawrence,” she says my name again.
“Goodbye, Jenny.” I nod and turn, walking to the elevator. When I get inside, she remains there, staring at me as the doors close. My chest throbs, matching my pride. “You’re such an idiot,” I whisper to myself.
23 The to-do list
Jenny
The day already feels like the worst I’ve had in a while, and it’s only eleven in the morning. Pacing my office, reliving the entirety of the conversation I had with Lawrence, I’m plagued with regret. The words were coming out and I wasn’t in control of them. He makes me so crazy. And now that he’s said goodbye like that, like I’d killed his dog, how do I fix it?
“You promised that?” Laura, the agent who handles the A-list Hollywood celebs comes stomping into my small office, shouting, “How the hell do you expect me to make Liam-fucking-Farringdon behave? Have you ever met him? He’s an opinionated narcissist. He thinks he’s god’s gift to the world. Women and the world. He thinks he’s an artist. What he is, is a playboy.”
My brain takes a second to snap back into the right crisis. “He owes you, Laura. You got him the biggest role coming out of that studio next year. It’ll make him a household name.” I can’t believe she’s bitching. I handed her a sculpture made from a pile of sludge.
“You got him that, not me. He won’t listen to me!” Her high-pitched shrieking draws the eyes from the already busy hallway.
“I think Liam will do whatever you say when he hears this has fixed his grievous error. He’ll behave or he’ll lose his career. No one likes a diva.”
“He doesn’t give a rat’s ass,” Laura groans. “And in turn, when he loses his job, I’ll lose mine.” She isn't nearly as grateful or motivated to fix it as I’d imagined she’d be.
“If your client goes rogue, you have to clean up the mess.” I’m dumfounded. This is the bread and butter of our floor of our global communications marketing and PR firm. We handle the hard stuff—people. The other floors handle easy shit like brand names and corporations.
“I can’t agree to this commitment.” She turns to leave my office. “You made it, you take him on.” She walks out, visibly angry.
Defeated, I slump into my chair as Sukii comes in, cocking a dark eyebrow. “Is she for real? Did I hear that right or are my eavesdropping skills slipping?”
“Fuck me. She’s for real. But I can’t take him on, Victor will kill me. We don’t handle Hollywood douche bags. I’m already working six days a week. I just moved. Lawrence hates me. But I’m pretty sure he’s a skin-suit situation so maybe that’s for the best.”
“What?” She closes the door and leans against it. “What are you talking about?”
“He unpacked my apartment exactly how I would have done it. And bought me
