And then he said the damning words that I should have expected but didn’t have time to protect myself from.
“You should go,” he whispered, still inside me.
“Yeah,” I said stunned, pulling away. “Guess I should.”
I shakily grabbed the clothes strewn around the room. He watched me as I stepped into lacy panties and struggled to get my dress zipped, and smoothed as much as possible. I pulled on my cardigan without zipping the dress so I wouldn’t have to muscle into my Spanx—the last thing I needed was to put on a show as sweat ran down my back while trying to roll on the damn things. Once I was safely covered, I located my shoes and put them on. I walked to the door and left without so much as a goodbye.
Hating him more than I had ever thought possible.
For being the man I’d always compare every other man to.
For being cruel when I needed him to be the bigger person.
And for agreeing to draw that line back in the sand when all I wanted was for him to say no, and keep me in his arms just a bit longer.
I didn’t realize I had tears until they dripped from my chin. Until I was doing the walk of shame down the sidewalk and attempting to grab an Uber to my car.
The only thing I had to look forward to was the fact that I was an intern now for Max Emory.
Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could be worse than the walk of shame from your enemy’s apartment after sober sex, not drunk, but sober sex!
Nothing.
I had no clue that a month later, I would do anything to return to this embarrassing moment.
After all, Max Emory… isn’t normal.
Had I known that I probably never would have said yes.
And neither would Mark.
Chapter Five
Mark
“Welcome to intern initiation!” Max Emory, CEO, spread his arms wide as he smiled at the group of twelve interns, of which I was one. He was wearing a three-piece black and white striped suit. The man had friggin’ spectacles attached to his suit that he randomly held up to his face looking like he belonged in the cast of A Christmas Carol. Did he even need them, or was it to throw us off his scent?
After my one-night stand with Olivia—I’d done an embarrassingly long internet search on Max and found out that he had actually been a contestant on Love Island. Think The Bachelor, but with more crazy women than any sane man would be able to handle.
Then again, Max Emory was known for being…eccentric, so maybe he’d been into it.
Some articles said that’s what had sent him over the edge. Then again, he was still happily married and a freaking billionaire, so whatever; his life wasn’t that rough, you know?
Other articles said he was eccentric, both in his personal life and in work, which as he spoke, I realized was scary accurate. He was almost too confident and too happy to be torturing all of us interns.
I drummed my fingers against my thigh, waiting for the announcement, but the guy kept pausing for three seconds in between taking giant gulps of water. The hell was wrong with him?
The hell was wrong with me?
I was so nervous I wanted to puke.
I needed this internship more than I needed another night with Olivia, and that was up there with needing air.
Fuck, she tasted good.
Max droned on, and every few minutes he spread his hands wide like he was the host of some game show when there were only twelve people in the room and one camera guy documenting, according to Max, his epic speech.
Weird.
And even weirder, or should I say harder?
Olivia was here.
Two seats down.
Wearing black jeans and a gray T-shirt, looking sexy as ever.
Did she regret it?
Did she think about me the way I thought about her?
Did she even care that she made me feel cheap, so I made her angry? I mean, I was inside her when she wanted to draw the fucking line between us again as if her job was more important than whatever connection we’d had that night.
And I needed the job as much as she did.
She was no longer the girl I’d always wanted.
But the one I had to keep at a distance in order to get the job I deserved.
And I knew she felt the same way, which almost made it worse.
Like both of us were willing to sacrifice each other in order to have stability in an ever-changing job climate.
Shit. We really did deserve each other.
“Now.” Max clasped his hands together, his megawatt grin huge. “Sorry about the stack of paperwork you guys had to sign.”
Tell me about it. One form read, “In case of death or psychosis.” What the hell?
“But we have to cover all of our bases,” Max continued. “And I’m so glad to say that out of the twelve interns, two have made it through our initiation process!”