Just the Sexiest Man Alive Page 87
Linda looked at her, confused. “Naomi? Naomi Cross?”
Distracted, Taylor ignored Linda’s question. Why would Jason do that? She turned and slowly headed back to her office and took a seat at her desk.
He had been lying about Naomi.
So? What did that mean?
Well, it might mean that he’d been telling the truth when he said he’d thought only of her since the moment they met.
Which then meant . . . what? What, exactly?
She was packed and ready to go. She’d be in Chicago tomorrow. She’d be a partner in Chicago tomorrow.
Taylor needed a minute to think.
He said she was amazing.
He said she belonged with him.
Maybe those weren’t just words.
But it was too late. She had already accepted the firm’s offer. There was nothing she could do. Fine—nothing she would do. Nothing she wanted to do.
Was there?
Taylor braced herself against the edge of her desk.
Her leg began to bounce nervously.
Oh god.
TAYLOR KNOCKED ON Sam’s door. He looked up and smiled. “Hey there, Partner.”
Taylor gulped nervously, hesitating in the doorway. “Got a minute?”
Sam waved her in. “Sure, sure. Come on in.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
Taylor chose to remain standing. She fidgeted nervously. “Um, so . . . wow.” She laughed shakily. At Sam’s odd look, she pulled herself together.
“I wanted to thank you again, Sam, for the partnership offer. I know you had a lot to do with it.”
“You did it yourself,” he told her in all seriousness. “You should be very proud.”
Taylor struggled with her next words. “But I’ve just been wondering, does it really have to be Chicago?”
Sam sighed, as if he had been expecting this. “The head of our employment group is in Chicago. You know it’s where you’re the most marketable.”
Taylor nodded. She did know this. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that took up an entire wall of the partner’s office and looked out at the view of Los Angeles. The city was right there at her feet. Waiting.
Sam approached her from behind. “I don’t want to play hardball with you, Taylor. I respect you far too much for that. But the firm has never before made an offer for early partnership to any associate. They’ve gone out on a limb here. If you don’t take this now, they’ll never offer it to you again.”
Taylor gazed out the window. “I know.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem . . . is that it seems I’ve become rather attached to this city.”
Sam wasn’t fooled. “I know what you’re attached to, Taylor. But you need to be pragmatic about this. You know his reputation.”
She remained silent.
Sam persisted. “Come on—what do you think? That it won’t be that way with you? That you’re different?” He shook his head. “You can’t honestly believe that.”
When Taylor still didn’t answer, Sam looked over.
“Do you?”
Taylor stared out at the city below.
Actually . . . yes. She did believe it.
Her voice was soft, barely audible. “I do.”
Sam’s head snapped back, surprised. “Do you really? Are you willing to risk your career on that?”
Taylor turned around. “I think that for him, I’d risk everything.”
With that, she apologized to Sam and walked out of his office. She felt as though an enormous weight suddenly had been lifted off her shoulders. And she felt steadier, more confident than ever in knowing exactly what she wanted.
Okay, Jason Andrews, she thought. Game on.
TAYLOR RUSHED BY her secretary’s desk on her way to the elevators.
“Linda—I need you to go to the mail room and put a hold on all the boxes we’re shipping to Chicago.”
Hearing the urgency in her voice, Linda jumped to attention.
“Why? Oh my gosh, what’s happening? Wait—does this mean you’re staying in Los Angeles?” She hurried after Taylor, following her down the hall.
When they hit the elevator bank, Taylor pushed the down button. “I don’t know—I guess that’s what I’m about to find out.”
The elevator doors opened and she turned to Linda. “Wish me luck,” she said, stepping inside. She stopped after taking two steps into the elevator. And stepped right back out.
Taylor glanced over at her secretary. “What day is today?”
Linda had to think for a moment. “Thursday. The fourteenth. Why?”
Taylor immediately checked her watch, then swore under her breath.
“What? What is it?” Linda asked.
Taylor turned to her, her eyes filled with horror.
“He’s at his premiere.”
Thirty-four
THE SPECTACLE IN front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater was unlike anything Taylor had ever seen.
Cameras, reporters, media vans, even a helicopter—every form of entertainment coverage and accoutrement thereto had shown up for the big Jason Andrews event, the premiere of his summer blockbuster, Inferno.
And the fans. Oh my gosh, the fans. Taylor warily checked them out as well.
An enormous screaming crowd had gathered in front of the theater, lining up along both sides of the red carpet. They cheered, they clamored, they swarmed. All in the hopes of catching just one glimpse of their hero.