“You know, fraternization between staff members is strictly prohibited at Sharapov, Heimer, and Schimmer law firm,” he informed her. Valentine barked out a laugh.
“Oh yeah? Then someone should tell my asshole boss to stop sexually harassing me.”
“Maybe he'd stop if he weren't so sure you liked it.”
She stopped laughing. Cleared her throat once. Licked her lips. Then cleared it again.
“Goodbye, Ari,” she spoke softly. He glared at her for a second longer, then that infuriating smirk spread across his lips.
“See you tomorrow after your classes, Valentine.”
And then he was gone, taking the stairs two at a time.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into now?
By the time Valentine made her way back to the Music Room, she felt slightly more in control of herself. She'd stopped in a bathroom and fixed her hair, touched up her makeup. Put her armor back on. When she slid into their booth, though, she realized she could've come back looking like she'd just gotten done with a gang bang, and no one would've noticed.
Bailey and Evans were deep in conversation as if they'd been best friends for years. Several napkins were spread across the table, incomprehensible notes scribbled across them, and then Valentine noticed something else. A phone was propped up against the candle in the center of the table. They were facetiming somebody.
“Oh hey, Val! You're back!” Evans exclaimed, just noticing her for the first time when she reached for the vodka bottle.
“Yup, Saint Valentine is back,” she replied, all while pouring herself a healthy slug of the liquor.
“Was that Ari you were with?” Bailey finally noticed her, too.
“Yup. Who are we talking to?” she asked, then she tossed the shot back and immediately poured herself another.
“His younger brother, Devlin,” Bailey sounded excited as she grabbed the phone and turned it around. A younger, scruffier version of Evans waved at her and said hi, then Bailey put the phone back. “He works for Muse Games in New York!”
“Wow, that's ... super cool.”
Valentine had no idea was “Muse Games” was, but she toasted her shot to them before drinking it down, as well. She quickly when about pouring a third.
“You okay?” Evans asked, his eyes bouncing between her and the vodka bottle.
“Better than ever. Your brother's name is Devlin Daniels? Evans and Devlin Daniels? What is wrong with your parents?”
“They're sadistic bastards,” Evan laughed, and she could hear Devlin laughing over the phone. “So I take it you and Ari have ... made some sort of peace?”
“You could say that,” Val replied before taking her third shot, gasping as the vodka burned a fiery path down her throat. “So let's have one last drink to me, Saint Valentine.”
She poured everyone a shot, even Bailey, and they eventually all held up their glasses.
“Saint Valentine – patron saint of beekeeping,” Evans chuckled.
“Patron saint of love?” Bailey guessed, glancing between them. Valentine thought for a moment, then nodded her head.
“Patron saint of whatever the fuck I want,” she added, then quickly took the shot before anyone else could add some pearls of wisdom.
8
Ari really didn't know women as well as he liked to think he did – he hadn't had many girlfriends, and the few he'd had, he hadn't paid much attention to them. They'd just been ... there. A decoration, something for effect. Harper Kittering had been pretty to look at, impressive on paper, great pedigree. A fucking show dog.
Valentine had been a thoroughbred race horse, a completely different animal, and one he didn't have any experience with – he'd thought he could just whip her into shape and then just rein her in. Stupid man. Instead, she'd tamed him, then bolted, and it was like he was the different animal, now. One that found itself begging for attention and acting irrationally.
The sex the night before had been incredible. Mind blowing. Three weeks really wasn't all that long to go without sex, but still. It was like they'd been starving, and in that photo booth room, they'd been presented with an all-you-can-eat buffet. His only was regret was not getting seconds when he'd had the chance. He pulled the photos out of his wallet and looked over them again, something he'd found himself doing several times through the day, then he looked at the clock.
He still remembered Valentine's schedule well from when they'd been spending almost every day together, and he knew her last class on Friday got out around two – it was already half past that time. He narrowed his eyes. She was supposed to come to work right after class. If she was riding her bike, she should've been there ten minutes ago. If she was taking the bus, she should've been there even earlier.
She better not bail on me now.
This was all proving even harder than he'd thought. PayING that obscene amount of money to get her attention had been staggering, at first, but then he'd realized it was a good idea. Maybe taking her out of the club and bringing her into his world would show her how serious he was about wanting to be with her. Maybe forcing her and his father into somewhat close quarters would force Ari to stand up to his own personal monsters.
He twisted around to stare out his office window. It was funny, Valentine had once called him a “Daddy's Boy”, and he'd brushed it off. He'd always been very aware of the hits he had to take in order to get to where he wanted in life. So sure, he'd figured he could be a daddy's boy for a while, if it meant he'd eventually get his name on the side of a building.
It was no different from what a lot of people did in their life. George W. Bush had been the president of the United States for eight years – and he'd gotten there based on the strength of his father's accomplishments. An American dynasty, and Ari had always thought of himself as being part of that kind of dynasty, which meant he occassionally had to kiss the ring.
But Valentine had changed his perspective about a lot of things. It wasn't a dynasty – it was a business, that's all. A business he did want, something he'd been working his whole life towards. His father had met presidents, regularly dined with the mayor of their city and the governor of their state. Ari wanted those things for himself, and he didn't think there was anything wrong with that; walking a path in his father's shadow was just the simplest way to get those things.
Walking in his father's shadow, though, was coming with a higher price than he actually wanted to pay, he was beginning to realize. Valentine had forgiven him for the harsh words he'd spoken, and sure, they'd slept together. But she was still closed off from him. She didn't trust him. And for the first time, Ari was having to deal with the fact that she may never. She hadn't jumped as his offer for a free apartment, and she hadn't rolled over and confessed her love for him after they'd literally made love.
She didn't need him, and quite possibly didn't want him, and all because he was so attached to a future that he wasn't even sure he really wanted. As long as he was stuck in this job, living under his father's rule, she would probably never trust him.
My name on the side of a building, or a saint in my bed ... too many choices.