𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 ⭑ 18+

𝐢𝐯. 𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚

𝐢𝐯.
𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Only once we're situated in Derek's booth with drinks in hand, Julia on my left with Derek to my right, does the "business" talk commence, as he called it.

"Your manager reached out to mine with a—deal, of sorts."

I nod.

"I'm aware. I wouldn't be here if you weren't interested, though. Am I right?" Though I sound confident, I'm seconds away from tucking my tail between my legs and bolting to the nearest exit.

His eyes narrow as if a tad confused. "Right. So, how's this going to work?"

"Well—I haven't gotten that far yet," I pause as I gather my thoughts. "But this exchange would be mutually beneficial."

Jesus, I sound like I'm delivering a dreadful pitch instead of genuinely trying to convince this man, assuming he needs any convincing at all.

"Mutual, how?" He presses, his voice a velvet whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.

"You'd gain an ally, a friend who's just as hurt as you are." At this, his full lips pull slightly to the side, brows drawn together.

"Who says I'm hurt?"

I open my mouth and then shut it. He waits for my response, eyes boring into mine. All I can think about is how insanely attractive he is—and how unfair it is that I have to look at him while we talk.

"What exactly did my manager propose to you?"

He swirls his glass, holding it between his fingertips. His palm covers the top as the sound of ice faintly clinking against crystal meets my ears. How I'm able to hear it over the Future song vibrating through the air is a miracle in itself. I'm definitely hyper-aware of everything right now.

"I think Wilson forgot to tell you something. Either that or he just didn't feel like telling you."

Julia and I glance at one another. There's regret in her eyes.  A wave of sheer panic crashes through me.

She did say I owed Wilson a favor, but... what kind of favor? Not sexual—he would never.

The look on my face must give me away.

Derek's smirk turns undeniably wicked as he leans closer, closer, until his breath caresses the shell of my ear.

Lips brush against cartilage, and my throat tightens.

"As much as I'd love to have you all to myself in a far less social setting, with even less clothing involved," His feather light fingers trace the hem of my dress, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. "Business is business, and I don't fuck business. No matter how sweet the deal is."