It’s a good thing that Ed Thurman walks away before I have a chance to give him a piece of my mind. Who the hell cares what a complete stranger says anyway? I’m here on a very important mission, which I’m failing.
Jaxson Cole starts laughing. It’s not subtle, nervous laughter either. It’s full-blown, tummy-busting, falling on the floor kind of laughter.
I’m astounded. This place is a fucking looney bin. I make no effort to hide my low opinion of the agency as I stare incredulously at him.
“You should see the look on your face,” Jaxson says, literally having tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he goes on. “I forget what a tool Ed can be. We all just accept him around here.”
“Are you, okay? You seem kind of crazy. Your girlfriend was just murdered,” I say, getting angry at him despite his volcanic deliciousness.
“I’m most definitely not okay, Ella Wade,” he says with that fake vulnerability. The fact that he likes to say my whole name is weird and pleasing at the same time. Any woman would enjoy any part of their name lingering on his seductive lips.
“This is all so overwhelming,” I say, because my emotions are similarly conflicted and all over the place today.
“I don’t know why, Ella Wade,” he says, “but your face is the only thing keeping me from falling completely apart.”
His words are sweet if not convincing.
“Why do you keep saying my whole name?”
This question actually makes him look sad and now it’s convincing.
“Until today, all you were was a name,” he says. “Spoken from her lips.”
Now my heart sinks. The poor guy. There’s real pain there. “Call me whatever you like,” I say.
“I’ll call you Ella,” he says, almost whispering, as he steps closer to me.
I cough and turn away. His eyes are too intense. “Okay, yeah. That works.” Holy shit, did that work. My heart is one skip away from a traumatic event.
“Cool,” he says.
So cool. “As for that Thurman guy. My expression was conveying the fact that I think he is a total dumpster fire.”
Jaxson laughs again, his eyes locked on mine. “That’s good, Ella Wade. You really are a writer.”
“You did it again.”
He bends his grin like a sexy dagger. “What did I do?”
“You know, that thing with my name.”
“Right, I did. Last time. Scout’s honor.”
Now I smile. “You’re no scout.” I swear, if he takes one step closer, I’ll throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. I might be the worst stepsister in world history. Luckily for my soul’s salvation, he stays put.
“No, probably not,” he says and then exhales.
This just became awkward. “I thought Ed and you had something to do,” I say, trying to sound totally casual.
“Yeah, I should probably go. Give me your phone.”
“Excuse me?” My voice sounds shriller than I intended.
“Give me your phone,” he repeats, pointing at my purse. “I’ll punch my number in.”
I hand him the phone, almost in a trance. I watch his long, strong fingers punch the keys on my phone fast as lightning. My cheeks get flustered as I imagine all the things those fingers could do.
He returns the phone with a smile on his face. “If you need anything at all, call me,” he says. “Madison would want me to help you out, Ella.”
I nod silently, feeling a warm buzz in my belly and thighs. He raises his broad shoulders for a moment as he walks away and all I can think of is that I must look like crap. I had no idea I’d be sent out of the office when I left for work this morning and to a model agency of all places, so didn’t bother to put any makeup on or even do my hair.
Strangely, none of my insecurities matter. Not even the fact that Jaxson doesn’t seem to be as heartbroken as he should be over Madison’s death.
For all I care, Jaxson Cole can call me the whole fucking Ella Rose Samantha Wade spelled out on my birth certificate every single time he speaks. Right now I don’t even care if he’s a heartless, narcissistic bastard who looks out only for himself.
The guy electrifies every part of my lonely soul and body. His intense eyes are hot to the wettest power. Talking to him and looking at him are like floating in a dream within a dream within a drugged-out dazed confusion.
Right. Time to snap out of these delusions about the sexiest man in the universe ever crossing my path again. Cause one thing’s for sure—that number he just punched in on my phone? It’s never being called.
—five—
June 24
Mark literally saved my sanity when he suggested I work from home today. The media has swarmed over the story of Madison’s brutal murder, annihilating everything in their wake like locusts, each assumption darker than the last. Two unscrupulous competitors even had the audacity to show up at the office of The Daily Scandal offering sympathy with the clear intention of tricking me into talking.