Chapter 51 Slipping into her pants
Hermes
"Grande," Mr. Greene, one of Apex's senior board members, and the cunniest of them, sets his glass down on my table. "Quite the gala you've put together tonight."
I force a smile. "It's Apex's gala, Mr. Greene. I just signed the checks."
He chuckles dryly, swirling his wine. "Still, you've managed to silence a few doubters. At least about the aftereffect of our... small problem., but you know it takes more than chandeliers and Bordeaux to earn trust."
"Trust isn't built in a night. But reputation can be destroyed in one - and I won't let that happen again." I sip my glass, though I've no intention of drinking.
His eyes narrow. "Again? You should know Lucien's shadow still lingers over this company. Some of us are still... unconvinced you can lead Apex without it swallowing you whole."
My fist curls tight at my side. Fucking bastard. He says my father's name without a shred of respect.
"With respect, Mr. Greene," I say, voice low and even, "the board doesn't need to be convinced tonight. Our partners, investors, and the public do. That's what this gala is for."
He leans closer. "And what about us? What will you prove to us?"
"That I'm not my father. And anyone betting against me will regret it."
Greene studies me, lips twitching. "Hm. Bold words. Let's hope they aren't just wine talk."
"Nice wine by the way," He leaves with a smug smile.
"Fucking bastard," I mutter, dropping my glass back on the table. I look up only to see Charlotte and Natasha coming my way.
My God. Not now.
"Hermes, I heard about your father," Charlotte says, her hand brushing my arm, all sympathy. "It's a relief the surgery went well."
I nod once. "Yeah, he's stable, thankfully, I guess, but-"
I don't get to finish as Natasha presses into me without warning, arms sliding over my shoulders, her mouth grazing my neck with a kiss far too intimate for this room.
"I'm glad," she purrs, fingers still gripping me. "I was so worried when you left without a word last night."
My jaw tightens. For fuck's sake. She doesn't read the room at all. What gave her the audacity? Thankfully for her, it wasn't my lips she'd stolen, I'd have snapped. Even the place she fucking chose wasn't a safe bet either. Christ. Now I'm hard, and it's infuriating.
I should push her off right here, but I can't-not with eyes everywhere, not with Charlotte watching. So I drag a breath and force myself to stand still, acting the gentleman I don't want to be.
To distract myself, I turn toward the other end of the hall. And then my eyes land-
June –
And that strategy team guy. The same one who threw her that stupid wink during their presentation. The same one who grinned while handing her the coffee I'd told her to make for me. The same one who had the nerve to ask her to lunch.
He's cupping her face now, tender, familiar, soft, and she's smiling up at him-beaming, fingers wrapped around his wrists like she doesn't want him to let go.
My Adam's apple rises and falls, a tight, burning knot stuck in my throat.
I quickly shut my eyes, turning back. As if the day couldn't get worse. Now I'm forced to see this. My fist grips tight on the edge of the table.
"Hermes, are you okay?" Natasha asks, stroking the same spot where her lips just pressed.
I open my eyes, jaw twitching. The heat in my body drains, leaving nothing but irritation.
"Take your hands off me," I say slowly, meeting her eyes.
Her artificial lashes dip, blinking at me, confused. "What?"
I sigh, knuckles whitening against the table edge, the vein in my fist threatening to pop. My patience is a thread. I cut my gaze to Charlotte, and she understands instantly.
"Nat, let's go touch up our makeup," Charlotte murmurs, pulling her away with practiced ease.
"Oh... okay," Natasha mutters, still clueless, and thinking I need her here. When you fuck these women, they think they've earned a smooth passage to your life.
Against my better judgment, I glance back in their direction. She's still smiling, softer now, chatting with one of the Strategy girls I recognize.
"Oh," a scoff slips past my lips as the realization hits. Of course. She's joining that team next week - no wonder she's already latching on to another boy. That's it. After tearing through my world, she moves on without a backward glance. Quick and effortless. She must be thrilled.
My jaw ticks. My chest feels too heavy.
Fuck this. I can't stay here another second. I need air, and space. Anywhere but here.
I turn to leave, but slam into someone. A deep, restrained sigh leaves me, lips pressed thin, and I move to brush past.
"Hey, Hermes. Where you headed?"
I turn, jaw tight. Gavin. Fuck. It's him. How the hell did I not notice? I really am losing control.
"Oh, Gavin, I was just-"
His hand swats mine in dismissal. "C'mon. I want you to meet someone."
I start to protest, but he's already dragging me across the hall, and then my eyes stray back toward her. She's still talking, laughing with the employees, and that Strategy team guy is gone.
I blink, force myself to look away. But then our eyes lock. Is she glaring at me?-or is it just a gaze? I can't read it. I can read her anymore.
My breathe hitch, and I rip my eyes away, fixing on Gavin, as he leads me.
"Hermes, this is Attorney Jasmine," Gavin says, gesturing to an elegantly dressed woman.
I force a polite smile, extend my hand. "Thank you for coming to the gala."
She says something back, but I can't decipher it-my mind's already gone, tracing her eyes. Were they scorning me? Did she dress like this because of what I said before the interview review? Or maybe she heard about the new policy I pushed through?
Is this a ruse to get back at me-for not acknowledging I slept with her?
Fuck, what the hell is your head doing, Hermes?
Gavin nudges me. I exhale sharply, turn.
"She's asking if you remember her from Australia," he murmurs, hand half-covering his mouth.
I snap back to her-her face is puzzled, but in a blink, it morphs into June's. Christ. Now I'm hallucinating.
"I-uh, I've got to attend to something." My voice comes out rougher than I intend. I step back, nod once. "Please enjoy the party."
"Hermes-" Gavin starts, but I'm already walking away.
I spot her from the corner of my eye, her back turned close to my path. I hold my breath as I pass, refusing to let her intoxicating scent undo me further.
I storm into the first men's bathroom I see, shoving myself into a stall and locking it.
"Damn it," I groan, dragging my hands through my hair until it hurts. My fist clenches, knuckles popping. "I'm in control," I mutter, low, my teeth pressed against my molar.
This is better, because I'm pushing her out of my reach, out of my life. That's what I wanted, isn't it? Just because I fucked her doesn't mean she shouldn't fuck someone else.
Someone... better than me.
The thought tastes like rust in my mouth, bitter, heavy. I move to leave, but footsteps echo in, and I freeze back against the stall wall, not ready to be seen like this.
"Alright, Fern, pay up," a familiar voice calls. My spine stiffens. That strategy team bastard.
"C'mon, Chris, you haven't finished the bet. You're supposed to fuck her after she says yes to being your girlfriend." The other man laughs.
Heat flashes up my neck. Chris. That's his name.
Chris's laugh follows, sharp and ugly. "That won't take long. She's already head over heels. Slipping into those pants is going to be easy."
I grip the stall handle so hard my veins bulge, jaw locked, breath tearing through my nose.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.