Worth studies me, his gaze lingering.
“I read your email to HR.”
The champagne nearly goes down the wrong pipe. I cough, eyes wide. “What? How?—”
“It’s my company. I know everything.”
Embarrassment creeps hot into my cheeks. Of course he does. And apparently that includes snooping through payroll requests.
I don’t know why I assumed he wouldn’t find out.
“Right. Well… Never mind about that. It was a mistake.” I wave it off, even though inside I feel about two inches tall.
His tone shifts. “Is everything okay, Ms. Jones?”
“Yes,” I lie too quickly, and I know he hears it. His eyes narrow, as if he’s dissecting me on the spot. I give him a tight smile, willing him to drop it.Please don’t look at me like that.
Like a charity case.
Worth nods and orders a drink. Then, he tips his glass in my direction and walks off, leaving me gripping my flute a little too hard.
I exhale slowly, trying to steady myself. I should feel relief that he’s gone, but instead, my skin still burns with the remnants of his presence.
And that’s a problem.
The music swells,couples drifting onto the dance floor. I’m halfway through another sip of my drink when I hear a familiar voice, “Hey, Mya.”
I turn to find Ethan, one of the project managers from design. He’s been at W.H.M. for years, and knows everyone, remembers birthdays, and manages to charm even the prickliest clients.
“Ethan,” I greet with a polite smile.
He grins, charming without trying too hard. “You look incredible tonight.”
Heat creeps up my cheeks. “Thanks. You look nice, too.”
His eyes stay on me a little too long, his smile softens a little too much. It’s subtle enough to brush off, but I make a note of it.
I take him in quickly. Tall, lean build, sharp jawline, the kind of guy who probably runs marathons for fun. Always dressed neat without being showy.
He’s… cute. Objectively.
And yet I’ve never really paid him much attention.
He tilts his head toward the dance floor. “Care to?”
Why not? I set my glass down, slip my hand into his, and let him lead me out. His touch is respectful. One hand at an appropriate height on my back, the other guiding me with ease. But his voice drops low when he leans in, murmuring something about how well I move, and it’s impossible to miss the flirtation threading through.
I smile, playing it off, but as he twirls me back into his arms, my eyes catch on another couple across the floor.
Worth and his date move effortlessly, her body draped against his. To anyone else, he looks composed—exactly what you’d expect from a man used to being watched.
But his eyes aren’t on her.
They’re onme.
His stare burns hotter than Ethan’s hand at my back. Anger simmers there, buried beneath a mask of indifference. No one else would see it. But I do.
My chest tightens, heat crawling up my throat. I force a laugh at something Ethan whispers in my ear, trying to pretend I’m unaffected. But with every twirl, I feel Worth’s gaze like a tether pulling me across the room.