Chapter 121 *
Scarlett's POV
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. This was a terrible idea.
"How hard can it be?" I muttered to myself. "Show up, smile, be sweet, ask nicely."
I'd seen this in movies. Wives did this all the time. They'd surprise their husbands at work. Bring them lunch. Flirt a little. Get what they wanted.
I could do that. Probably.
I pulled out a dress from my closet. Black. Fitted. The kind that hugged curves without being obvious about it.
Then makeup. Not too much. Just enough to look like I'd made an effort.
Perfume. Two sprays. Three felt desperate.
I looked at myself again.
This felt ridiculous. Like I was playing dress-up.
But what other choice did I have? Calling him would just get an immediate no. Texting was even worse.
This required in-person persuasion.
I grabbed my purse. Headed downstairs.
Arthur was in the hallway. He took one look at me and smiled.
"You look lovely, Mrs. Wolfe. Are you going somewhere special?"
"Wolfe Global," I said. "Is the driver available?"
"Of course. I'll have him bring the car around."
Twenty minutes later, I was standing in the elevator of Wolfe Global headquarters. Going up to the executive floor.
My heart was pounding.
This is fine. Everything's fine. Just walk in, be cute, ask for a favor. Easy.
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped out into the reception area. The secretary looked up. Her eyes went wide.
"Mrs. Wolfe! Does Mr. Wolfe know you're coming?"
"It's a surprise," I said quickly. "Don't tell him."
"He's in a meeting—"
I was already walking toward his office. "I'll just wait in there then."
She started to protest. I ignored her.
My hand was on the door handle. I took a deep breath.
Okay. Here goes nothing.
I pushed the door open.
Damon was at his desk. Staring at financial reports with an expression that suggested he wanted to murder someone.
Maybe this was a bad time.
But I'd already walked in. Too late to back out now.
"Hi!" My voice came out way too cheerful. Too bright.
Damon looked up. Surprise flashed across his face.
He immediately set down the papers. His expression softened.
"What are you doing here?" His tone carried concern. Like he thought something was wrong.
"I wanted to see you?"
Oh God. That came out like a question. Not a statement.
Damon's eyes narrowed slightly. Suspicion activated.
He knew me too well. That hesitant tone meant I wanted something.
"Did something happen?" he asked. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" I walked toward his desk. "Everything's fine. I just thought I'd stop by."
He leaned back in his chair. Crossed his arms. A small smile played at his lips.
"You just thought you'd stop by."
"Yeah."
"At my office."
"Yeah."
"Wearing that dress."
I looked down at myself. "What's wrong with my dress?"
"Nothing." His smile widened. "That's the problem."
My face felt hot. This was not going according to plan.
I tried to remember what I'd seen in movies. The wife would perch on the desk. Look casual. Flirty.
I moved to sit on the edge of his desk.
Immediately started sliding off.
Damon's hand shot out. Caught my waist. Steadied me.
"Careful." He was definitely fighting a laugh.
I wanted to die. Just dissolve into the floor and disappear.
"Thanks," I mumbled.
I stood up. Brushed imaginary dust off my dress.
Okay. New approach. Small talk. Build up to the ask.
"So how's your day?" I asked.
Damon settled back in his chair again. Arms still crossed. That amused look still on his face.
"My day was fine," he said slowly. "Until someone came in acting suspicious."
"I'm not acting suspicious!"
"You're hovering near my desk like a nervous bird."
"I'm not nervous!"
His eyebrow went up. "Then what are you?"
I bit my lip. Think, Scarlett. Think.
Another movie scene popped into my head. The wife massaging her husband's shoulders. Being helpful. Sweet.
I walked behind his chair. Put my hands on his shoulders.
"You look tense," I said. "Let me help you relax."
I started trying to massage his shoulders. My fingers felt clumsy. Awkward.
Damon's whole body went rigid.
"Scarlett." His voice had that edge of amusement. "What do you want?"
"What makes you think I want something?"
"Because you showed up unannounced. You're acting weird. And you just tried to massage me."
He spun his chair around. Suddenly we were face to face.
His hands went to my waist. Pulled me closer. I ended up standing between his legs.
"Just tell me what you want," he said.
I sighed. "Okay fine. I need a favor."
"I knew it."
"A big favor."
"How big?"
I bit my lip. "Madison-Park-sized big."
The change was instant. His expression went cold. His hands dropped from my waist.
"No."
"You didn't even let me finish!"
"I don't need to." He turned back to his desk. Picked up his papers. "The answer is no."
Panic rose in my chest. I turned his chair back around.
"Please? For me?"
He didn't look at me. "She tried to destroy you."
I dropped to my knees. So we'd be at eye level.
Put my hands on his knees. "I know."
That got his attention. He looked at me. Really looked at me.
"But I promised someone I'd ask," I continued.
"Who?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes." His voice was firm. "It matters."
I held his gaze. "Viviana."
His jaw clenched. "Your mother? The one who kicked you out?"
"I owe her. It's complicated."
"It's not complicated." His voice was hard. "It's insane."
I stood up. Stayed close to him though.
"I know it was you," I said quietly.
He put on an innocent face. "What was me?"
"The evidence leak. The hashtags. Everything that destroyed Madison's reputation."
I paused. Let that sink in.
"You're the only one who'd go that far for me."
His expression softened slightly.
"I spent my whole life wanting my parents to protect me like that." I looked down at my hands. Then back at him. "Turns out my contract husband's better at it than they ever were."
He reached out. Pulled me back between his legs. His hand went to my hair. Started running through it gently.
That gesture. The one that always made my heart do stupid things.
"That's because I actually give a damn about you," he said.
My heart stuttered. Skipped a beat. Maybe two.
"So will you do it?" I asked. "For me?"
He sighed. Long and deep. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
I shook my head.
"Fine." He looked up at me. "I'll back off Madison."
My face lit up. "Really?"
"But you owe me."
I blinked. "Owe you what?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "I'll think of something."
He pulled me closer. His hands firm on my waist.
"And it'll be big."
"Deal." The word came out too fast.
His eyebrow went up. "You don't even know what I'll ask for."
"I trust you."
His expression turned serious. Almost grave. "You shouldn't."
The air between us felt heavy. Charged.
His hand moved from my hair to my cheek. His thumb brushed across my skin.
We were close. Really close.
I could smell his cologne. Could see the different shades of blue in his eyes.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Don't thank me yet."
His gaze dropped to my lips. Just for a second.
My breath caught.
Then I remembered where we were. What I was supposed to be doing.
"Oh!" I tried to step back. "I should let you work."
His hands tightened on my waist. Didn't let me move.
"Where are you going?"
"You said you were busy—"
"I'm never too busy for you."
I felt my face heat up. "That's so cheesy."
"You're the one who came here batting your eyelashes."
"I did not bat my eyelashes!"
"You definitely did." He mimicked the motion. Flutter flutter.
I smacked his chest. "Stop!"
He caught my hand. Held it against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat.
"You're terrible," I said.
"You like it."
"I do not."
"Liar."
We were both smiling now. The tension from earlier was gone. Replaced by something warmer. Lighter.
Then I heard it. Voices outside the office.
The secretary. "Sir, you can't go in—"
A male voice. "The hell I can't. I'm his uncle."
Damon and I both froze.