Annalise wasn’t much of a curser, so I knew before getting a look at her red face that she was pissed. Which was fine. That fucking made two of us.

“He’s friendly because we worked together before. He’s also happily married, not that I need to explain anything to you.”

“You can’t really be that na?ve, can you? To think that a little thing like being married makes a shit of a difference to some men?” I paused, although I should have just ended my rant there. “Oh wait. You can be that na?ve. You’re the same woman who thought meeting an ex at a hotel wasn’t for a booty call.”

If I’d thought her face was hot with anger before, I was wrong. The red shade deepened to a near purple. She looked almost as if she’d been holding her breath. For a half second, I considered getting out of the car for my own safety.

“Stop the car,” she demanded. “Stop the damn car!”

I came to an abrupt halt.

Annalise unbuckled her seatbelt and whipped the car door open. We were still in the parking lot, and at least there were no other cars or people around to watch as she got out, started to pace while flailing her hands in the air, and shouted about what a dick I was.

Maybe I was a dick. In fact, I knew I was. But it didn’t make what had gone on between the two of them all afternoon any less acceptable. So I left her out there to stew while I did my own grumbling inside. After about fifteen minutes, she waltzed back to the car, got in, and buckled her seatbelt.

“Drive to the hotel. We have to pretend to be friendly in front of the client at dinner tonight. But there’s zero reason to be nice right now.”

I restarted the car. “Fine by me.”

***

One hour didn’t help. Two did nothing but make my arms and calves ache.

Not even a half-hour power nap and shower with steaming hot water and a massager setting helped me relax. Every muscle in my body was still tense.

As fucked up as it was, I was not dreading dinner. In fact, I looked forward to it. I couldn’t wait to see how Annalise acted after I’d called her out on whatever was going on with that dick.

At quarter to eight, I went downstairs to the bar where we were meeting the crew from Star Studios in fifteen minutes. I was glad our dinner plans were at the restaurant in our hotel so I didn’t have to drive and could have a drink or two. God knows I needed it.

The VP of Production and the head screenwriter were already seated at the bar. They extended a friendly welcome.

“What are you drinking, Bennett?”

I glanced at their glasses, both filled with amber liquid. “I’ll take a scotch.”

The VP patted my back. “Good choice.” He turned and ordered another of whatever year and brand the two of them were drinking and swiveled back to me. “We did all the talking today. Tell me a little about you.”

“Alright. Been with Foster Burnett going on ten years, started out as a graphic artist and worked my way up to creative director. I spend too much time at the office, try to play a little golf on the weekends, and my assistant hates me because I once ate her peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the refrigerator when I was on deadline and working at midnight.”

The last part got a laugh. It was funny to say, and I assumed they thought I was exaggerating. It just wasn’t funny that she actually hated me.

“Graphic artist, huh? Do you still draw?”

“Does doodling while I’m on the phone with my mother count?”

The men’s laughter was interrupted by a woman’s voice. “Bennett here is just being modest. He’s quite the artist. You should see some of his work—especially the cartoons he creates. He has quite the vivid imagination.”

I turned to find Annalise—wearing a blue dress that fit her body and made her tits look fantastic, yet somehow was still appropriate business attire. She looked gorgeous. It almost made me forget the little war we were having, and that she’d just attempted a dig at me for my sexy cartoon doodles.

I sipped my drink. “Speaking of modest...when it’s Annalise’s turn to tell a little about herself, don’t let her forget to mention her car hobby. She can take apart a car like no one’s business. Hell, on her second day at the new office, she took care of a windshield wiper problem I didn’t even realize I’d had until the day before.”

Annalise maintained the broad smile on her face, but I caught the little shiny daggers she shot my way from the slight squint of her eye. I beamed my pearly whites right back, only my amusement wasn’t fake. I enjoyed screwing with her. I could’ve gone on all night like this, trading barbs dressed as compliments. It did more in two minutes to relieve the tension I’d felt than hours at the gym and a shower had done.

After a few more exchanges, where she disguised a knock about my dating life as being dedicated to my work, and I hit her with a knock about her being na?ve disguised as her being open-minded, my neck loosened for the first time all day.

Although the pain returned less than five minutes later when her buddy showed up.

“You made it,” I said.

I watched his eyes do a quick sweep over Annalise before answering. “It was too important to not make it happen.”

Yeah. Sure.

Within a few minutes, the rest of our party had joined us, including the board member who was friendly with the VP at Star and had gotten us the invite to come today and pitch for their business. We moved our discussions to a table over dinner, and I wasn’t surprised to see that somehow Annalise and Tobias managed to sit next to each other again.

Although I was lucky enough to be seated next to the board member who would soon decide where the hell I lived, I couldn’t focus enough to take advantage of the opportunity to properly talk him up. Instead, I found myself scrutinizing every gesture between the happy-looking couple sitting across from me.

The way she threw her head back to laugh when he said something that was supposed to be funny.

The way her mouth moved when she talked and her tongue wiped the remnants of wine from the top of the glass each time she took a sip.

The feminine way she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her cloth napkin.

The way the asshole kept touching her arm and bumping shoulders with her.

By the time we made it to dessert, I’d started to have trouble coming up with anything to say and mostly kept quiet. The fun I’d felt at the beginning of the evening was long gone, and I was anxious for the night to end.

When it finally did, we all stood around in the hotel lobby saying our goodbyes. Annalise waved one last time as the entire Star team exited the hotel, and then it was just the two of us. The smile she’d been sporting immediately morphed into an angry face.

“You are the most unprofessional person I’ve ever met!”

“Me? What the hell did I do?”

“You spent all night giving me the evil eye and glaring at Tobias.”

“Bullshit! I did not.”

She stilled for a moment and studied my face. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really don’t even realize what you were doing.”

“I wasn’t doing shit.”

This woman was nuts. Maybe I’d been quiet, way less social than I’d normally be, but she was also sitting across the table from me.

“You were sitting in my line of sight. Where the hell did you expect me to look?”

“You were pouting and stewing like…like…you acted like a damn jealous boyfriend.”

“You’re nuts.”

“You’re impossible to work with.” She stormed off before I could say anything more, heading to the elevator.

I stood there a moment, trying to figure out where the hell she’d gotten me acting like a jealous boyfriend from. My adrenaline had spiked, and I knew there was no way in hell I was going to be able to sleep. So I decided to head back to the lobby bar and have a little liquid sleep assistance.

***

“You acted like a damn jealous boyfriend.” Her words kept swirling around in my mind, along with copious amounts of ten-year-old scotch.

After two drinks, I was definitely calmer. But I couldn’t shake everything that had gone down tonight. Things had started out well enough—the blue dress, her great tits. I’d been pretty composed when she arrived, even after our blowup in the car this afternoon. Watching her talk, watching her laugh, seeing the man sitting next to her stretch out and rest his arm around the back of her chair during appetizers. I couldn’t see his hand, but I imagined him trailing a finger along her back, thinking no one would be the wiser.

Except me. I knew.

I rattled the ice around in my glass and then gulped back the rest of my drink.

That fucking finger.

I wanted to break it.

How dare that bastard touch her?

The thing that crossed my three-quarters-of-the-way-to-drunk mind next seemed to come out of nowhere.

Keep your hands off my girl.

What the fuck?

Come again?

I laughed to myself, trying to shake off the ridiculous thought. It’s the alcohol talking.

Had to be.

Right?

Or…

Fuuuuuuck.

My head fell back against the top of the bar stool, and I stared at the ceiling for a minute, lost in thought. Everything started to click into place at rapid speed.

I shut my eyes.

Shit.

I was acting like a jealous boyfriend tonight.