CULLEN SHARPE: Xavier Montrose is the lowest of the low. You don’t have a clue what you’re getting yourself into. Also, your disobedience is getting tiresome.
IVY SPELLMAN: Then stop trying to control me and you won’t have to deal with my “tiresome behavior” anymore. Simple.
CULLEN SHARPE: You are being childish. But I understand, you’re confused.
IVY SPELLMAN: I’m not confused. I’m annoyed. You’re completely controlling and crazy, and you want to drive me crazy too. I won’t let you do it.
CULLEN SHARPE: I’m a very difficult man. And I won’t inflict that on you…but I also can’t allow you to be hurt by outside forces.
IVY SPELLMAN: I forgot to add paranoid to your list of charming qualities.
CULLEN SHARPE: If only I was paranoid. My concerns for you are all too real. You’re very special, very unique. There are people in this world who would twist you to their own ends.
IVY SPELLMAN: Sounds familiar…
CULLEN SHARPE: I know that I hurt you. Believe me, that’s the very last thing I want to do.
IVY SPELLMAN: Could’ve fooled me. Now please let me get back to work so I don’t miss my targets and get fired for it.
She waited for his inevitable response, but it never came. And though she wanted to feel a sense of pride, knowing she’d stuck up for herself and told the entitled CEO to go to hell—Ivy couldn’t escape the sense that she’d gone too far.
Maybe you don’t actually want him to leave you alone. The lady doth protest too much.
She closed the chat window, closing her eyes momentarily. Even then, she saw Cullen Sharpe in the darkness of her mind, and he was still watching her.
Work was mercifully over, and Ivy was leaving the office for the day. Lucas caught up to her as she headed to the T station a few blocks away.
“Are you as sick of reading those case report forms as I am?” he asked, as he came along side her as they left the building.
The cool, fresh Boston air was a welcome relief.
Ivy smiled, laughing, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, I’m sure this is nothing compared to how we’ll feel a few weeks from now.”
“If we’re still even here,” Lucas said. “You know they’re just going to keep cutting until we’re down to like five people that type one hundred and forty words per minute.”
Ivy laughed, shrugging. “I might not mind getting fired at this point.”
“They’ll never fire you,” he said.
She shot him a look. “Why not?” she said, feeling like he was judging her, just as the other temps had. “I’m not going to get any special treatment, Lucas.”
“Are you sure about that, Ivy?” he replied, nodding ahead of them, his eyes suddenly locking on something just up ahead.
She turned and followed Lucas’s gaze, and realized that there was a black sports car pulled up a few yards in front of them, idling. Standing outside the car, leaning against it with his arms folded, was none other than Cullen Sharpe.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
Lucas raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Guess that’s my cue to exit,” he said, walking faster. “Good luck.”
“Lucas,” she called after him, feeling bad and embarrassed.
Lucas just waved, but didn’t look back as he sped up and almost jogged down the sidewalk away from her.
Ivy put her head down and started walking past the CEO, but his pull was magnetic, and she couldn’t help herself. At the last second, she looked at him. “You’re humiliating me in public now?”
Cullen didn’t reply. Instead, he moved aside and opened the passenger door of the sports car. “Get in,” he said.
“No,” she replied.
“I didn’t ask.” He pointed inside the car.
“I must be crazy,” she whispered, and then she moved past him and got inside. But not before she brushed past his face, smelled his aftershave, the clean and masculine scent of him—and it sent her head spinning with so many confusing emotions she could barely tolerate it.
The passenger seat of the car was soft, the leather all encompassing, and the car smelled brand new.
Cullen shut the door and then came around the driver’s side and got in next to her.
He pulled expertly out into traffic, maneuvering the touchy, sensitive car like it was part of his body. Everything Cullen Sharpe did, he seemed to do perfectly, Ivy thought.
And she hated that about him, because like everything else he did, it made it difficult to think she knew better.
Even when it came to herself.
They were both quiet for a time, and then finally she broke the silence.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. She stared straight ahead, unable to look at him for fear of her need and desire showing in her eyes.
Cullen replied softly. “I can’t help myself.”
His words stirred something deep inside her, and she felt her need growing. “Maybe you should try harder,” she told him.
“I need to watch over you,” he said. “I know that I’m no good for you, but I can still make sure you’re safe.”
“Don’t patronize me,” she said, finally turning to look at him.