My forehead thumps against the wall of the stairwell.

There are so many emotions churning inside me right now I feel sick, and I stay leaning against the wall at the bottom of the staircase for a solid five minutes.

You should have told her, I think, the phrase echoing over and over in my mind. You should have told her.

I was so close, so many times. First was when we kissed in the park, then at the window in my apartment, and finally, just now, before she climbed into the car and left. There was always a reason not to, though. I was still trying to gain her trust after my last fuck up, convince her to see me for who I am before I had to convince her that everyone at Knox Security is wrong. I let things go too far for the sake of showing her the real me.

What I didn’t expect was for her to reveal such depths of herself in return.

I picture her spreading herself open in front of me, screaming at me to fuck her, and despite the fact that I’m currently wallowing in despair, I feel my cock start to harden at the memory. She held nothing back. For those moments we were together, everything about her was mine to take.

Walking away isn’t an option anymore. She pulls me in like a magnet to metal, and before I let myself go any farther, I know I have to make this right.

Soon. The possibility of having a chance with her after she hears about my reputation from me is slim. The possibility of having a chance if she hears it from someone else is nonexistent.

* * *

Stop by for a croissant today? I owe you for the spaghetti.

I stare down at the message from Hailey. We’ve been texting back and forth a bit, but I’ve tried to be vague about when I can see her again, wanting to wait until I at least have some sort of plan. I spent all weekend thinking up a way to explain the rumors in a way that won’t make her hate me, but so far I’ve got nothing.

I’m not one to refuse a baked good, I type back. Have to check my schedule, though.

It’s not even a lie. Work has been the last of my priorities lately, and I have no idea what I have going on today.

Opening up my laptop, I scan through my inbox and find a message marked as high importance from my father’s personal secretary. Reading through the brief message that sounds as cold and impersonal as my dad himself, I realize it’s a reminder about a meeting I have with him today.

I check the time. I’m three minutes late already.

My phone buzzes again, and a stern text from the same secretary pops up asking me where I am. I dash out of the office and give a distracted wave in acknowledgement of the wolf howls coming from the row of cubicles where my team sits. Their latest thing is referring to me as ‘The Wolf of 19^th Street.’

I drum my fingers against my arms as the elevator doors seem to open at every possible floor until I finally arrive at the top of the building. My father has his own personal lobby that looks like a miniature of the one downstairs, complete with another giant gold-plated Knox Security sign looming over his secretary’s desk.

Said secretary raises his eyebrows at me over a pair of square-framed glasses as I let myself into my father’s office.

“Jordan, how kind of you to join us.”

My dad is sitting in the mafia leader-esque chair behind his desk, his hands folded under his chin.

“Sorry, lost track of time,” I mutter, taking a seat next to the other man in the room, a guy in his thirties with perfectly gelled hair and the kind of good looks seen on obnoxious TV show hosts.

“Clearly,” my dad intones, before setting his hands down and sitting up straight. “Jordan, this is Mr. Tyler Davidson. He’s a public relations specialist I’ve been consulting with for the past few weeks.”

Tyler Davidson reaches over to shake my hand, flashing me what looks like a carefully rehearsed smile.

“I’ve been told by many of my advisors that Knox Security would benefit from updating its image. We’re only barely reaching our targets for profit increase, and we need to expand our marketing efforts to reach a further audience. Mr. Davidson and I have been developing a plan. Why don’t you bring Jordan up to speed?”

He inclines his head toward Tyler, who shifts himself in his chair so he’s facing me.

“Celebrities,” he nearly shouts, putting as much enthusiasm into the word as if he’s telling me he just discovered the secrets of gravity.

I blink.

“You guys have a real sweet set up here,” he continues, as if I’d just jumped up and punched the air in celebration of his brilliance, “with a strong corporate client base, but if you want to keep moving up, you need to expand to the most attention-grabbing market there is. That’s celebrities. You start providing security services for famous people, and you’ve got glamour to your name. You’ve got that sexy factor. You have to keep things sexy if you want to keep them fresh. You know what I’m saying?”

I shake my head from side to side. “I don’t.”

“Mr. Davidson thinks you can help with this,” my father intervenes.

“With the...sexy factor?” I ask, unable to believe that my dad is allowing that term to be used in a business discussion.

“Yeah!” answers Tyler. “Here’s what we’ve come up with. My PR firm does a lot of celebrity representation as well. We’ve just signed on with Nina Felina.”

He throws his hands up as if this is the be all and end all of public relations accomplishments. I just continue to stare.

“Nina Felina is a local actress turned singer,” he tells me in a coaxing voice, like I’ve forgotten an answer I really should know. “She’s already big, but we need a media boost to make her even bigger. We also need a way to bring Knox Security into the celebrity sphere.”

I still have no idea where I come into this. My father glances down at his watch and Tyler notices, taking the hint to speed things along.

“We’ve told her signing up for Knox Security services is in her best interest, and that being seen with the good looking son of the company’s head is a perfect way to drive media intrigue. Your father tells me you’ve already got a lady killer reputation”—Tyler wags his eyebrows suggestively—“so we’ll spin you as the wayward bad boy who’s finally fallen in love.”

I look back and forth between my father and Tyler, waiting for them to burst into laughter and tell me this has all been a joke. Even the idea of my father making a joke is more believable than him falling for this.

“Her name is Nina...Felina?” I choke out.

“Nina Felina,” Tyler confirms.

I can feel a string of swear words rising in my throat, but my dad starts speaking before they have a chance to escape.

“Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Davidson. I’d like to continue discussing this with Jordan now. I’ll be in touch with you again soon.”

“Sounds good, Mr. Knox.”

Tyler shakes both our hands and then lets himself out of the office. I turn to my dad.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he says levelly.

“You run a business, not a boy band! This is insane. You’re going to let someone who looks and sounds like he belongs on a game show tell you what’s right for the company?”

“Tyler Davidson may be an idiot in many respects,” my father explains, “but as far as public relations are concerned, his company has achieved some of the best results I’ve ever seen. If he can increase our profits by the margins he’s promising, his services will repay themselves nearly tenfold.”

I get up from my chair and start pacing the floor of the office.

“I’m not going to be a...a wayward bad boy who’s finally found love!”

I can hardly believe the words leaving my own mouth. This all feels like a weird dream.

“I was willing to overlook your indiscretions because they got better results from your team,” continues my dad, as if I haven’t spoken at all. “Now I’ve found a way to use them to benefit the entire company. You will do this for me Jordan, and you know why.”

I wheel around, stopping dead in my tracks to glare at him.

“Don’t bring her into this!” I dare to shout, trying to stop what he’s going to say next.

He folds his hands under his chin again, his eyes hard as he utters the words I know all too well, handing them down to me like a prison sentence.

“What’s good for the company is good for your mother.”

I feel the weightlessness coming over me, the sinking feeling of knowing I’m about to give up.

“She and I have a plan for you. You know what happens when you disobey that plan and upset her. You’ve done well here so far. Continue to do well and she may be ready to see you again soon.”

He stands up and begins collecting a few papers off his desk, acting like I’m not even there anymore. I turn and leave the office. Rushing past the reception desk, I bypass the elevator door and head to the stairwell, storming down three flights worth of steps before I pause on a landing and slam my fists against the concrete wall.