Well, that was nice of her. "Thanks, Kristi. I appreciate that. But no, I’m not going to let him affect my days. He might be able to turn my nights upside down, but my days belong to me." I reach in to my purse and turn my phone on silent, then toss it back into my bag. "I’m incommunicado today. So there!"
"That’s the spirit, girlfriend!"
That lasts for like thirty minutes, because the second Kristi goes to the restroom in the visitor center of the Botanical Gardens, I check my phone. My heart skips—like literally skips—when I see the message from Vaughn.
Prepare. In nine hours I blow your mind with surprises.
Surprises, hmmm. He left all sorts of surprises in my apartment last night as well. Boxes and boxes of gifts, and the new bedsheets and comforter did not escape me either. It might’ve been my best night of sleep ever. I’m just not sure if it’s because I was f**ked unconscious, because of the new bedding, or because living a fantasy is exhausting. But either way, dragging my butt up out of bed was difficult.
I text back, I can’t help it.
You’re #OnMyMind, is that good or bad?
I press send and then immediately wish I could take it back. I should not discuss my feelings with him. He’s made it very clear we’re just f**king, and the fact that I’m having feelings is going to put an end to this as soon as he figures it out. In fact he might be debating that right now. Should I cancel our tweet date? he’s probably wondering. Is she getting clingy already?
Way to go, Grace.
My phone buzzes and I look down.
I’m smiling, Grace. You made me smile.
What’s that mean?
And then my phone dings a noise I’ve never heard before and an alert comes through.
FaceTime, Accept?
I didn’t even know I had FaceTime. I press accept and a view of Los Angeles appears. "Are you alone?" Vaughn asks.
"Yes," I giggle back.
His face comes into view and he grins at me. "You look nice today. What are you up to?"
I bite my lip and look around. I’m f**king FaceTiming with Vaughn Asher in public. "Um…" And then I spot Kristi coming out of the bathroom. "I’m looking at flowers with a client. And she’s coming back from the restroom, so I can’t really talk."
"Mmmmm," he says back. "I want to f**k you right now."
"Shhh," I say, looking around to make sure no one can hear him.
"Tweet me something special when you ditch the friend." And then the screen goes black and cycles back to home.
"Who’re you talking to?" Kristi asks when she rejoins me at near the ticket line.
"Oh, no one. I got a call from the office but it’s nothing important." We get our tickets and make our way through the gardens. It’s a lovely place, and Kristi is quite knowledgeable, pointing out all sorts of plants that have absolutely nothing to do with weddings. I do my very best to pay attention, but most of the time I’m tuning her out.
Vaughn is the only thing on my mind. Vaughn is the only person I have room for today. And the impromptu FaceTime break only makes it worse. My mind is spinning with questions. What does he really want from me? What do I really want from him?
I think about that all morning and by the time I’m finally able to ditch my client and concentrate on the movie star pursuing me, I have to accept what’s real.
I like him. I want him. I want more than sex, I want feelings. And these small gestures that probably mean nothing to him are going to drive me mad. Because it’s impossible for me not to read into it. When a man leaves you gifts and pays attention to you during a workday, that typically means he likes you. He wants you. And yes, I know Vaughn likes and wants me, but it’s only for sex.
I don’t want him only for sex, I want him in every way imaginable. I want him to love me.
That thought stops me dead as I step off the elevator on the fifth floor of Big Guys. No, no, no, no, no. That’s the worst possible thing that can happen to me.
"Grace?" Flora asks from her reception desk. "Are you OK?"
I shake myself out of it and start walking again. "Yeah, sure, I just remembered that I forgot something." I flash her a smile and try to get to my office as fast as I can.
"Oh, Grace, wait!”
I turn and she’s holding out a message.
"Your banker came by. He said you need to stop by and see him."
I take the message and call out a cheerful, "Thanks," over my shoulder. When I finally reach my office I close the door and sit down.
I cannot fall in love with this ass**le movie star. I just can’t. He’s going to use me up and throw me away. It’s a done deal. I need to get a grip on these feelings fast.
I resolve to do that. I make a firm commitment to accept this arrangement for what it is, but in that very instant, my desktop computer dings a new email from my work account.
It’s from The Invisible Man.
I click on it.
It’s a picture of me at the Botanical Gardens. I’m leaning down to smell a rogue daisy in a greenhouse filled with rare hothouse orchids.
The message reads:
You are the white daisy in that greenhouse. Your beauty is simple, your confidence strong, your feelings genuine. I love it.
What the f**k?
Is he stalking me from LA? How is that possible? How did he get that picture? How did he get this email? Jesus, is he crazy? I get out my phone and press the number he called from earlier. He picks up on the second ring.
"I already know what you’re going to say, Grace. I’m sorry."
"You damn well better be, mister. What the hell is going on?"
"It was too much, wasn’t it? The message was too personal. I apologize."
"The message?" I’m confused. "You mean the picture. And the fact that you have my work email and I never gave it to you."
"The picture?" Now it’s his turn to be confused. He chuckles. "Darling. I have security on you. They send me updates. It was in the agreement. If you’re mine, you have to have security and I can ask for an update any time I want."
"You’re spying on me."
"No, I’m keeping track of you. Spying would imply I’m doing it secretly. And please, your email at Big Guys is [email protected]. It was not that difficult."
"That’s the spirit, girlfriend!"
That lasts for like thirty minutes, because the second Kristi goes to the restroom in the visitor center of the Botanical Gardens, I check my phone. My heart skips—like literally skips—when I see the message from Vaughn.
Prepare. In nine hours I blow your mind with surprises.
Surprises, hmmm. He left all sorts of surprises in my apartment last night as well. Boxes and boxes of gifts, and the new bedsheets and comforter did not escape me either. It might’ve been my best night of sleep ever. I’m just not sure if it’s because I was f**ked unconscious, because of the new bedding, or because living a fantasy is exhausting. But either way, dragging my butt up out of bed was difficult.
I text back, I can’t help it.
You’re #OnMyMind, is that good or bad?
I press send and then immediately wish I could take it back. I should not discuss my feelings with him. He’s made it very clear we’re just f**king, and the fact that I’m having feelings is going to put an end to this as soon as he figures it out. In fact he might be debating that right now. Should I cancel our tweet date? he’s probably wondering. Is she getting clingy already?
Way to go, Grace.
My phone buzzes and I look down.
I’m smiling, Grace. You made me smile.
What’s that mean?
And then my phone dings a noise I’ve never heard before and an alert comes through.
FaceTime, Accept?
I didn’t even know I had FaceTime. I press accept and a view of Los Angeles appears. "Are you alone?" Vaughn asks.
"Yes," I giggle back.
His face comes into view and he grins at me. "You look nice today. What are you up to?"
I bite my lip and look around. I’m f**king FaceTiming with Vaughn Asher in public. "Um…" And then I spot Kristi coming out of the bathroom. "I’m looking at flowers with a client. And she’s coming back from the restroom, so I can’t really talk."
"Mmmmm," he says back. "I want to f**k you right now."
"Shhh," I say, looking around to make sure no one can hear him.
"Tweet me something special when you ditch the friend." And then the screen goes black and cycles back to home.
"Who’re you talking to?" Kristi asks when she rejoins me at near the ticket line.
"Oh, no one. I got a call from the office but it’s nothing important." We get our tickets and make our way through the gardens. It’s a lovely place, and Kristi is quite knowledgeable, pointing out all sorts of plants that have absolutely nothing to do with weddings. I do my very best to pay attention, but most of the time I’m tuning her out.
Vaughn is the only thing on my mind. Vaughn is the only person I have room for today. And the impromptu FaceTime break only makes it worse. My mind is spinning with questions. What does he really want from me? What do I really want from him?
I think about that all morning and by the time I’m finally able to ditch my client and concentrate on the movie star pursuing me, I have to accept what’s real.
I like him. I want him. I want more than sex, I want feelings. And these small gestures that probably mean nothing to him are going to drive me mad. Because it’s impossible for me not to read into it. When a man leaves you gifts and pays attention to you during a workday, that typically means he likes you. He wants you. And yes, I know Vaughn likes and wants me, but it’s only for sex.
I don’t want him only for sex, I want him in every way imaginable. I want him to love me.
That thought stops me dead as I step off the elevator on the fifth floor of Big Guys. No, no, no, no, no. That’s the worst possible thing that can happen to me.
"Grace?" Flora asks from her reception desk. "Are you OK?"
I shake myself out of it and start walking again. "Yeah, sure, I just remembered that I forgot something." I flash her a smile and try to get to my office as fast as I can.
"Oh, Grace, wait!”
I turn and she’s holding out a message.
"Your banker came by. He said you need to stop by and see him."
I take the message and call out a cheerful, "Thanks," over my shoulder. When I finally reach my office I close the door and sit down.
I cannot fall in love with this ass**le movie star. I just can’t. He’s going to use me up and throw me away. It’s a done deal. I need to get a grip on these feelings fast.
I resolve to do that. I make a firm commitment to accept this arrangement for what it is, but in that very instant, my desktop computer dings a new email from my work account.
It’s from The Invisible Man.
I click on it.
It’s a picture of me at the Botanical Gardens. I’m leaning down to smell a rogue daisy in a greenhouse filled with rare hothouse orchids.
The message reads:
You are the white daisy in that greenhouse. Your beauty is simple, your confidence strong, your feelings genuine. I love it.
What the f**k?
Is he stalking me from LA? How is that possible? How did he get that picture? How did he get this email? Jesus, is he crazy? I get out my phone and press the number he called from earlier. He picks up on the second ring.
"I already know what you’re going to say, Grace. I’m sorry."
"You damn well better be, mister. What the hell is going on?"
"It was too much, wasn’t it? The message was too personal. I apologize."
"The message?" I’m confused. "You mean the picture. And the fact that you have my work email and I never gave it to you."
"The picture?" Now it’s his turn to be confused. He chuckles. "Darling. I have security on you. They send me updates. It was in the agreement. If you’re mine, you have to have security and I can ask for an update any time I want."
"You’re spying on me."
"No, I’m keeping track of you. Spying would imply I’m doing it secretly. And please, your email at Big Guys is [email protected]. It was not that difficult."
