and making it hard for their own people to thrive.”
“Let’s say your right,” I say. “What does any of that have to do with me and Sofie?”
“I know what you want next, and you can’t have scandal if you’re going to get it. Sofie draws scandal like bees to honey. I’m just saying you may not be able to have both.”
“Walsh, your father recently told me that I remind him of you,” I say. “I’d like to test that theory. How do you respond when someone says you can’t have something you want badly?”
A lopsided grin skews Walsh’s lips. He turns to leave, tossing his last words over his shoulder.
“I’ll get you that number.”
CHAPTER TEN
Sofie
N ot him again.
I’ve been ignoring my cell all morning, but if I see Rip’s name flash on the screen one more time, I may hurl the phone through my office window. And it’s a new phone. A new window, for that matter.
“Rip, hey.” I lean back in the office chair I managed to smuggle from Bennett Enterprises in last week’s move.
“Sofie, I’ve been calling you all day,” Rip says, voice petulant.
“Have you? Sorry, I’ve been slammed here at the office.”
“Did you see what the Post wrote about us? They’re reporting that we’re done.”
“Is that what they said?” I massage one temple. In just the week since our split, I’d almost forgotten what a recalcitrant child Rip can be.
“How’d it get out so fast? I haven’t told anyone because I’ve been hoping you’ll rethink the breakup.”
“What can I say? We live in a bubble. Hard for people like us to keep secrets.” I check a chip in my manicure. “And I have thought this through, Rip. I told you that last week when we ended things.”
“But I thought maybe we could just take some time apart and figure things out.”
“I just think we’ve come to the end of our road.” I draw a deep breath, making a conscious effort to gentle my voice. “We can still be friends, but that’s all I want.”
“Is there someone else?”
Trevor Bishop’s face, the square jaw and lean cinnamon-scruffed cheeks dented with those damn dimples, splatters itself all over my mental canvas. Not a day has gone by since that man traipsed off to Cambodia that I haven’t thought about him. It’s really irritating.
“There’s no one else, Rip. Just me. It just needs to be me for a while.” I let that sink in before checking to make sure he understands. “Okay, Rip? Friends?”
“Friends for now, Sofie,” Rip says. “But you know how hot it was between us. I’ll try not to rub it in when you come knocking wanting more.”
Don’t flatter yourself. Don’t hold your breath or your dick.
“M’kay. Take care, Rip.”
Why did I answer? His call has thrown my schedule off, and I need to get across town to meet with François’s team about the unveiling of the Goddess scent. I’m gathering a few things to work on in the car while I ride when my cell rings again. I don’t recognize the number, but I called a few artisans for Haven. It could be one of them returning my call.
“Hello?” I don’t give more information than that in case it’s a wrong number.
“Sofie, hi.”
That voice pours over me like a vat of honey, and just those two words run down my body, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their sweet, sticky wake. I’d know that voice anywhere.
“Who is this?”
Trevor’s deep chuckle rumbles from the other end.
“You don’t recognize my voice, Sofie? I’m hurt. Truly.”
“How’d you get my private number?”
“I’m a well-connected man.”
“Are you back in New York?” Even though I have no intention of seeing him, I’m curious if it’s even a possibility.
“Got back yesterday. Sorry it took me so long to call.” A small pause hangs between us. “I read that you dumped the quarterback.”
“Did you now?”
“Which brings me to the reason for my call.”
“Which is?” I brace myself to refuse anything this man asks of me.
“Have dinner
“Let’s say your right,” I say. “What does any of that have to do with me and Sofie?”
“I know what you want next, and you can’t have scandal if you’re going to get it. Sofie draws scandal like bees to honey. I’m just saying you may not be able to have both.”
“Walsh, your father recently told me that I remind him of you,” I say. “I’d like to test that theory. How do you respond when someone says you can’t have something you want badly?”
A lopsided grin skews Walsh’s lips. He turns to leave, tossing his last words over his shoulder.
“I’ll get you that number.”
CHAPTER TEN
Sofie
N ot him again.
I’ve been ignoring my cell all morning, but if I see Rip’s name flash on the screen one more time, I may hurl the phone through my office window. And it’s a new phone. A new window, for that matter.
“Rip, hey.” I lean back in the office chair I managed to smuggle from Bennett Enterprises in last week’s move.
“Sofie, I’ve been calling you all day,” Rip says, voice petulant.
“Have you? Sorry, I’ve been slammed here at the office.”
“Did you see what the Post wrote about us? They’re reporting that we’re done.”
“Is that what they said?” I massage one temple. In just the week since our split, I’d almost forgotten what a recalcitrant child Rip can be.
“How’d it get out so fast? I haven’t told anyone because I’ve been hoping you’ll rethink the breakup.”
“What can I say? We live in a bubble. Hard for people like us to keep secrets.” I check a chip in my manicure. “And I have thought this through, Rip. I told you that last week when we ended things.”
“But I thought maybe we could just take some time apart and figure things out.”
“I just think we’ve come to the end of our road.” I draw a deep breath, making a conscious effort to gentle my voice. “We can still be friends, but that’s all I want.”
“Is there someone else?”
Trevor Bishop’s face, the square jaw and lean cinnamon-scruffed cheeks dented with those damn dimples, splatters itself all over my mental canvas. Not a day has gone by since that man traipsed off to Cambodia that I haven’t thought about him. It’s really irritating.
“There’s no one else, Rip. Just me. It just needs to be me for a while.” I let that sink in before checking to make sure he understands. “Okay, Rip? Friends?”
“Friends for now, Sofie,” Rip says. “But you know how hot it was between us. I’ll try not to rub it in when you come knocking wanting more.”
Don’t flatter yourself. Don’t hold your breath or your dick.
“M’kay. Take care, Rip.”
Why did I answer? His call has thrown my schedule off, and I need to get across town to meet with François’s team about the unveiling of the Goddess scent. I’m gathering a few things to work on in the car while I ride when my cell rings again. I don’t recognize the number, but I called a few artisans for Haven. It could be one of them returning my call.
“Hello?” I don’t give more information than that in case it’s a wrong number.
“Sofie, hi.”
That voice pours over me like a vat of honey, and just those two words run down my body, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their sweet, sticky wake. I’d know that voice anywhere.
“Who is this?”
Trevor’s deep chuckle rumbles from the other end.
“You don’t recognize my voice, Sofie? I’m hurt. Truly.”
“How’d you get my private number?”
“I’m a well-connected man.”
“Are you back in New York?” Even though I have no intention of seeing him, I’m curious if it’s even a possibility.
“Got back yesterday. Sorry it took me so long to call.” A small pause hangs between us. “I read that you dumped the quarterback.”
“Did you now?”
“Which brings me to the reason for my call.”
“Which is?” I brace myself to refuse anything this man asks of me.
“Have dinner
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