I bit my lip, as if I could keep that word from having leapt out of my mouth.
Hunter didn’t seem to have noticed. “We need the rebrand by the anniversary party, though. Can you have it done by then?”
I raised an eyebrow in my best Scarlett O’Hara fashion. “Mr. Knox, you are talking to the person who finished a sizzle reel for Ladybird Lipsticks in three days on a budget that wouldn’t buy you half a shoestring. On this, I won’t even break a sweat. In fact—” the idea came to me in a flash of light—“we should theme the anniversary party around it. That will show the board how serious you are about this whole thing!”
Hunter grinned, grabbing my hand to press his perfect lips to it. “Allison Bartlett, you are absolutely brilliant.”
I grinned up at him like my face was fit to bust, my heart soaring high above me. Everything was perfect. I was on top of the world.
Then Hunter ruined everything.
“And Paige could help!” he suggested, dropping my hand to reach for his cell phone. “Event planning, that’s her thing, right?”
That soaring heart of mine? Plummeted faster than a hot air balloon that someone’s taken a cannon to.
“Sure,” I said through gritted teeth and a smile that felt like it had been shellacked on. “That’s totally her thing. What a great idea.”
“Oh no, did I stumble into a sister argument?” Hunter asked, still grinning that annoyingly hot grin. He could at least have the decency to look ugly when I was angry with him. “Was it her thing first, and then you decided you wanted it to be your thing, and then she wanted her thing back, so you had to compromise with a different thing—”
“It’s none of your goddamn business!” I snapped.
There was a moment of pure frozen silence.
I had overreacted. I wasn’t supposed to care. I couldn’t let Hunter know I cared.
I turned away, trying to pretend that I just wanted more coffee, and that I wasn’t hiding the tears trying to escape from my eyes.
Hunter’s hand rested gently on my shoulder. “Ally…”
“It’s nothing,” I insisted. I forced a shaky laugh. “You know how I am before I get my morning java…”
“Ally,” Hunter said again, and his voice was as gentle and concerned as his hand. I wanted to let him hold me tight and soothe me with his voice. “Tell me the truth. Are you really okay with me seeing your sister? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Was that hope in his voice? Oh, I wanted it to be hope so much, I wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him. I could feel the heat from his hand through the fabric of my shirt, and oh, I wanted, I needed that hand on my skin, stroking me, caressing me, pulling me against his strong, hard body as if he never planned to let me go…
But he didn’t want me. He wanted Paige. Anything else I thought I heard was just me being delusional.
“You aren’t hurting me,” I said, and through the haze of pain I was proud of how steady my voice was. “I’m completely fine with you dating Paige. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything better.”
With that, I choked down the rest of my coffee and made a private resolution to keep my nose to the grindstone and let my workaholism block out any inconvenient emotions for the duration of this project. I could do that. Sure I could.
FOUR
Who knew so much time could fit into one little week?
It was simultaneously too little time to get everything done, and too much time to have to spend trying not to think about Hunter and Paige. I tried to avoid the pair of them while still getting work done by burying myself in hours-long conversations with Sandra back in D.C., choosing color palettes, editing photos for perfect composition, and, of course, setting up conference calls with the director of our sizzle reel to make sure that everything was going smoothly.
Between my workload and Paige’s—having to put together a party for two hundred and fifty people, filling in all the details like tablecloths and bunting and engraved placeholders that Hunter had left out when he sketched the broad outlines—avoidance was pretty easy.
Avoiding constant phone updates from my mom—“Paige says they held hands! Paige says Hunter mentioned an island he would love to take her to! Paige says Hunter complimented her on her eye for color and detail!”—was a bit more difficult.
So when my phone rang, I paused for a second, pondering if it might be worth it to endure a storm of you didn’t pick up your phone, you had me so worried, I thought you were dead, you don’t care about your mother disappointment, in exchange for not having to hear her urgent update on what sickeningly cutesy nicknames Paige and Hunter had come up with for each other, or what they were planning on naming the children.
On the other hand, those disappointment storms were a terror to behold, let alone experience. I sighed and picked up the phone.
And saw that its caller ID was showing not my mother’s number, but my boss’s.