“Then enjoy it while outside of her personal space, motherfucker.”
“Will do.” He inclines his head and retreats inside. “I’ll catch you guys later.” He slides the door closed behind him.
“Wow.” Sophia sucks in a dramatic breath. “That was hella sexy.” She fans her face. “The whole alpha, she’s-mine vibe. Whoa. Chef’s kiss.”
“Dial it down a notch,” I grate.
“Whatever you say.” She keeps fanning her cheeks. “But I don’t know what was hotter—your possessiveness or the way he ran after her.”
That asshole bustling after her was the opposite of hot. In fact, that kind of scampering after my fiancée could get a son of a bitch flayed.
“I guess it’s just the two of us now,” Sophia murmurs. “Maybe we should drag out the alcohol after all. It sounded like they already had.”
“Get out.” I shove a finger toward the door. “I told you to stop with the flirting. Obviously, you’re not listening. Which means I’m done here. Get the hell out.”
Her mouth gapes. “For today or—”
“I never would’ve agreed to meet with you in the first place if I’d known you took a shot at Sidney’s career.”
“We’ve gone over this.” She pushes to her feet. “It was my job to cover that story.”
“But it wasn’t your job to be a misogynistic b—” I bite my tongue. I bite it fucking hard.
“You can’t blame me for what happened. I was one of many voices.”
“True.” I nod. “And all of you slut-shamed Sidney within an inch of her life without throwing any shade my way.”
Her shoulders stiffen. “Do you really think journalists had any choice but to take that angle? The story needed to be covered, and there’s no news in a world-famous heartthrob having yet another threesome.”
“If my dick was no longer news-worthy, then you shouldn’t have shared the story at all.”
“That’s not what I meant. You were a serial womanizer hooking up with yet another woman. But she was the industry angel who lost her wings in exceptional fashion. The focus was always going to revolve around her fall from grace at your hands.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I agree. But don’t blame me for the ways of the world. People want scandal, Mason. They want humiliation and decimated reputations. I won’t be held accountable for society’s fascination with destruction.”
“This was a mistake.” I reach for her cell. “You need to delete the recordings from your phone and pretend today never happened.”
She snatches the device before I can grab it. “No. I understand you’re upset and that our personalities aren’t meshing well, but that doesn’t mean this project needs to be over. Let’s take a few days—”
“I’m done, Sophia.” I stand tall. “The movie is off. You’re not the person to be sharing Sid’s story.”
“Mason, please. That article is in the past. I’ve already promised to give you everything you need with the movie. I’ll be respectful to her. One hundred percent.”
“Yet you walk in here and spend most of your time flirting with her fiancé.”
She hangs her head. “I was being—”
“Friendly,” I drawl. “Yeah, you already said that.”
“Please.” Her shoulders slump with a heaved exhale. Slowly, she meets my gaze. “Let me speak to Sid. Give me a chance to clear the air.”
“We’re done.” Today was a mistake. I messed up again. “Grab your things.”
She stares at me, eyes pleading, expression distraught. “Okay… But I’ll call you in a few days. I can make this work.”
“You can see yourself out.” I stride for the house, my ears ringing, my pulse pounding.
She releases a defeated sigh but I don’t turn back to her.
I stalk inside to the fridge, pull it open, and blink blindly as her footsteps trek for the entry, the front door closing a few moments later.
“Goddamnit,” I roar.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why did it take hours to kick her out when she disrespected Sid at our front doorstep?
Fuck
I’d wanted that movie.
I’d wanted the world to see Sidney through my eyes. To love her as much as I do. To be as invested in her success as I will always be.
“Stupid fucking son of a bitch.” I clench the fridge doors tighter.
And what about her? Something must be in the water today because my fucking kitten hasn’t been acting herself either.
Eighteen months is a damn long time for the love of my life to be insecure about leaving the house, only to hightail it as soon as that ab-crunching jackass arrived.
I should be happy for her.
I should.
Instead, I feel like a sack of shit because I wasn’t the one to inspire her confident departure. How come I’ve never made her enthusiastic enough to walk back into society?
Because she’s goddamn safer at home.
I slam the fridge closed, turn, and take two steps to the island counter to grip the marble in both hands.
For more than a year, it’s been just me, her, and sometimes the band.
We didn’t want a connection with the outside world. The Goochland property and the Manhattan apartment have been our sanctuaries.
Then that smug gym hound convinced her to ditch the privacy that has kept her safe.
Fuck, I bet they didn’t leave with a security detail.
“He’s not here to cause trouble, my ass.” I shove a hand into my jeans pocket, retrieve my cell, and dial Sean’s number. I wait until he picks up with a greeting of, “What’s up?” then tell him to hold while I dial the rest of the band into the conversation.
“We’re going out sooner than planned.” My tone is a clear indicator the change in schedule is non-negotiable. “Start getting ready.”
“What?” Mitch asks. “When?”
“Where?” Sean adds.
“Are the women coming earlier, too?” There’s concern in Ryan’s voice. “’Cause we all know Leah doesn’t get ready at the drop of a hat. That woman likes prep time.”
“I’ll text the details when I have them.” I stalk for my bedroom. “But be ready to move in twenty.”
CHAPTER 5
Sidney
The Uber stops in front of a towering office building.
“This is the place?” I shoot a glance to Linden undoing his seatbelt on the other side of the SUV.
“Yep. Let me get your door.” He climbs out of the car and jogs around the vehicle.
I don’t usually oblige the gentlemanly offer, but nervous energy eats away at me. I don’t want to get out, not even after he’s pulled my door open and stands in wait.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I release my belt, unsure if the heavy feeling in my stomach is intuition or anxiety. “Where is this place?” I scoot to my feet and check our surroundings. “I don’t see any bar. There’s no signage.” Only random passersby who scrutinize Linden with the familiar look that always accompanies a hyperventilating spark of recognition.