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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

PAYTON

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I feel like Cinderella. After all, I’m dressed in Verity Co. couture from head to toe.

The dress is quite revealing and yet stunning, and the gold shoes on my feet feel like something out of a fairytale.

Even the purse I’m holding is from the sample closet that Mindy gave me access to. Also known as Narnia. I renamed it and the whole team thinks it’s hilarious.

Sample or not, I still feel like a princess. The fabric is divine, and every fixture is of the highest quality. There’s just something different about designer attire, despite its price. I wonder though, can you put a price on feeling like this?

In part, it’s the way Knox is looking at me, and how his body is angled protectively.

Possessively.

I’m not going to lie, when he moved in closer and put his arm around my lower back when Theodore from FMQ magazine asked me where I’d been all his life, I did not mind.

Not one little bit.

And I should probably stop drinking so much of this lovely champagne because I want to lift up on my tiptoes and kiss his broody lips.

Suddenly, Knox stiffens beside me, and I glance up to see Ward Montgomery heading our way.

Knox moves a few inches away from me, and I feel a sense of loss. Silly. But I’m reminded of what he said earlier. This isn’t a date.

I know it’s not, but being out with such a handsome man, coupled with our chemistry and his protective body language, it’s easy for a girl to get a little muddled about it.

Or wishful.

What would it be like to be Knox’s girlfriend? To have him gaze down at you and slowly drop his mouth to yours.

Oh god.

Magnificent.

I would really like to experience it. Just for one night. To feel his huge body wrap around mine, to watch those dreamy deep blue eyes of his hold mine as he filled me with his...

I can’t.

It would cost me my job, so I cut off my fantasy and figure I’ll dig out my vibrator like I did last damn night.

And the night before.

Knox slides his hands into the pockets of his black tux, and once again, I’m floored at how handsome he is. Truly, he is the most gorgeous man in the room, bar none.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Knox says with an edge to his voice as I frown.

“Are you?” the older man replies. “Hello, Payton. You look gorgeous in the Monroe Design.”

“Thank you.” I blush.

Ward sips his whisky and greets a few other people standing nearby. He’s well respected and popular, so it takes a few minutes before he turns back to us. Knox looks uncomfortable, which surprises me. I’m starting to wonder if they have a strained relationship. The WME team hasn’t held back sharing office gossip. None of it included the two Montgomery men standing in front of me.

Perhaps they have had a disagreement.

I watch his father. He might be a couple of decades older than me, but he’s still a very good-looking man.

With hints of salt and pepper through his hair and a strong, solid, and very confident way of holding himself, Ward has the attention of many women around us.

Honestly, more than Knox.

He’s charming, powerful, and very smooth.

Knox clears his throat and my eyes dart back to his. The lift of a single brow makes me break out in a smile, dip my eyes, and blush.

“He’s a little old for you,” Knox leans down and whispers.

I gasp quietly. “Well then, you might want to tell every other woman in the room.”

“I don’t care about—” Knox stops himself and tosses back his whisky.

A server comes by with more drinks and he busies himself by taking my glass and handing me a new one.

Not meeting my eye.

Didn’t care about what?

The others? Only me.

Why?

Did he think it rude that I was appreciating his father while standing with him?

Forcing my lips to stay silent, I mentally say, but it’s not a date, Knox.

In any case, I’m only visiting this world. I am more like Cinderella than anyone would know. My parents might be lawyers, but this room is dripping in wealth far beyond what I’ve ever seen. The designer dresses are exquisite, and there are more diamonds here than a Harry Winston store.

Everyone seems to have a chunky timepiece, fancy cufflinks, or a diamond necklace or ring which catches the light and glitters expensively.

Except me.

But I don’t care. I feel more like an observer than a participant. I’ve always loved fashion, so just being here is amazing.

However, if some prince wanted to slip a diamond bracelet on my wrist and tell me he loved me, I’d grin like an idiot for the rest of my life. Clearly I’ve read too many fairytales, but if said prince ended up being an asshole, I’d keep the bracelet and kick him to the curb.

So I’m not a completely lost cause.

“I see Alexandra is here,” Knox says to his father.

“She is.” Ward nods.

What?

“My boss?” I ask, my eyes darting around as both men nod.

Oh shit.I should’ve told her I was attending. I hope Alexandra doesn’t jump to any conclusions when she sees me with Knox.

He notices my reaction.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, turning so we have some privacy. I bite my lip and his dark eyes roam my face. “Payton.”

“I didn’t tell her I was coming tonight.”

He watches me for a while, then asks, “Why is that a problem?”

Damn. I really don’t want to answer. Not after my are you single question in the limo.

“We’re not meant to, um, socialize, with clients,” I say, glancing at my feet.

Oh my god, could I not think of anything better? He’s going to know exactly what that means.

Socialize. Ah, why didn’t I say shag?

Or bow chicka bow wow. Dancing in the sheets. Bumping uglies.

Well, there’s no way Knox Montgomery has ugly anything... just as a side note.

His hand reaches out and takes the corner of my mine, almost making me jump. They’re hidden, but the spark it ignites inside my body feels like it has lit up the entire United States.

My eyes dart to his.

“I can’t lose this job, Knox. I know your launch is important, but I really need this job, so if she thinks there is anything happening, which it’s not, then I need to go and tell her.”

“Leave it with me. I will make sure Alexandra knows I asked you to attend for work purposes,” Knox says. “And last minute, so you didn’t have time to tell her.”

“I don’t want you to lie for me.”

“And I don’t want to lose our new account manager, so let me do my job,” he says firmly.

“Thanks,” I reply, and he straightens, taking a step away, but then turns back to me and our eyes lock.

The small space between us now feels like a mile. I know he felt the distance and that I’m not the only one feeling something here.

I can’t be.

“Do you waltz, Payton?” Ward asks, holding out a hand.

My mouth falls open, and I glance between Knox and Ward. I’ve been oblivious to our surroundings for a few minutes, and the break in our connection took me by surprise.

Ward drops his glass on one of the tables, and I realize his hand is still stretched out in offer.

“Yes, um, I do,” I reply quickly.

Knox glares at his father but then suddenly swings back to me. “You do?”

“Yes,” I reply, righteously, because my dad taught me when I was little. My feet would sit on top of his as he whirled me around the living room. Eventually it became our thing, and we brought the house down at our father daughter dances.

Not really, but we were good.

I hate that Knox has assumed things about me because I’m not some high society billionaire or whatever. So I place my hand in Ward’s. “I would love to dance, Mr. Montgomery.”

“Ward, please. Call me, Ward.”

Then he leads me to the dance floor.

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KNOX

Ward, please. Call me, Ward, I mutter in my head childishly.

Whatever.

I watch my father spin Payton around in a circle like the dashing gentleman he is and clench my teeth while she giggles and places her hands expertly on his body.

How ridiculous.

He’s a fifty-seven-year-old man.

Payton is my age. If he wants to talk about being inappropriate, then this is it. He could be her father.

But he’s not. He’s my father, and he’s doing this to taunt me. I know it.

Well, I’m not biting.

“Lucky girl,” I hear a woman behind me say.

A couple of other voices agree and let out a feminine moan. A moan I’m familiar with.

This isn’t new. I’ve been aware women are attracted to my father for a long time. Even when my mother was still alive. Heck, he’s been teasing us boys for many years that we get our looks from him.

We do.

And I know Payton is charmed by him.

I fucking hate it.

I also want to know if he is here with Alexandra, or if I spotted them mid conversation?

I shouldn’t care that he is dancing with Payton. I might want to fuck her, but she can dance with whoever she wants.

Jesus Christ.

Theodore-handsy-Thornton tries to cut in, but my father refuses him. Good one, Dad.

Christ. Had I known Payton would be the belle of the fucking ball, I would not have brought her. I’ve had to stay by her side to keep off the vultures.

You had no place you’d rather be you liar.

“I had no idea you were bringing Payton tonight,” Alexandra says, joining me.

I sip my drink and turn. “Neither did I until earlier today. It was last minute.”

My promise to Payton complete.

If Alexandra causes her trouble, I will make sure her job is secure. Which is laughable given a few days ago. I had every intention of having her removed from the account after the launch.

Do I still plan to do that?

I hate to admit it, but she is growing on me. Not just because she is one of the most stunning women I’ve ever met. And I love her fresh passion as she talks about working for WME, and how she spun around and showed off her dress.

And then lifted her eyes to me, sparkling with such happiness, it nearly took my breath away. Only to dip her eyes and bite her lip, making me hard once again.

That mix of passion and submission has me coiled like a tiger ready to drag her into the woods and fuck her as hard as I can until I almost destroy her.

Instead, I’m standing here with Alexandra watching my father spin Payton around the dance floor. Their bodies are connected in ways I’m not fucking happy with. His palm flat on her bare back while she arches seductively.

I growl against my glass.

“She’s good,” Alexandra says.

What?

Oh... conversation. I need to focus.

“Very,” I say, then clear my throat from my rough response. “Obviously trained.”

I turn away and hate that I cannot watch her any longer, but it’s becoming difficult. I take another sip and meet Alexandra’s studying gaze.

“How has the first week been?” she asks.

“Payton is fitting in well. I admit, I think I underestimated her. Or rather, judged her too quickly based on her first day appearance.”

“That’s music to my ears. Payton has briefed our creatives and worked long nights with the team to get a pitch ready.”

I nod. “Excellent.”

I do a mental check at who is within earshot before I ask my next question. Because I’m almost certain I know the answer.

“Is your date here? You should be on the dance floor.”

It’s so obvious I almost want to slap myself.

“I think you know my date is already dancing,” she says, a little softer than usual.

I wriggle my jaw, fury building inside me.

My father has the audacity to dictate who I fuck while bringing a date to a work function - after my mother just died four or so years ago—and is dancing with a twenty-three-year-old in front of her.

In front of me.

With Payton. Who shouldn’t matter to me, but apparently she god damn does.

Fuck, I should have stayed home.

I toss back my drink.

“Excuse me,” I say and stride away.

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