“It doesn’t matter, though. We’re the right firm. Despite the lack of information, we’ll still have the best strategies,” I say. I straighten my back, gathering my confidence as I go over my notes, making sure I’m fully prepared.

“Agreed. Time to get going. Your cab’s waiting. By the way, I wasn’t able to find out who’s representing Boyce PR. My friend said the original rep got sick and they’re sending someone else in their place.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. It doesn’t sit particularly well with me, but there’s nothing I can do about it at this point. I collect my things and head for the elevator. “As always, you amaze me. Wish me luck!” I say over my shoulder.

“Good luck! Even though you don’t need it. You’ll be great!” she shouts behind me.

On the ride to the lobby, I can’t stop my mind from wandering to the fact that Neil works for Boyce. Over the years, it was part of what solidified our relationship—us both working in the same field. We understood each other’s need to be number one and how demanding the industry is. There was friendly competition between us, but more than anything we supported and encouraged each other, even sharing tips and ideas. It was fun talking about our day and what accounts we were working on. At least, I thought it worked well. Maybe that was why Neil did what he did. Maybe his tiny ego couldn’t handle his future wife being better in business than he was. Or it could be he’s just a fucking cheater.

He sent another text yesterday about needing to get a deposit back from the reception hall. Apparently, they won’t refund him the money. I don’t know why he thinks I care. I lost money too. If anyone should be trying to recoup their losses, it’s me. I’ve been a bitch, then nice, then I ignored him, but the texts haven’t stopped. I’m beyond irritated. And, of course, my phone has been chirping all morning. Against my better judgment, I decide to check it.

Neil: We should talk. See you soon.

Me: No, Neil, I won’t see you soon. Stop messaging me.

Neil: I’m sorry, Cat.

I have no idea why he’s apologizing. Games—all he does is play games. I hate him for everything he’s done and all he keeps doing. I’d like to put this behind me, but he continues to infiltrate my life.

The elevator dings and I walk out toward the waiting car, pushing thoughts of Neil out of my head as I get in the cab. I have a good feeling about today. I’m dressed in my favorite outfit—a black pencil skirt that ends right at my knee, my white blouse tucked into my skirt, and my favorite pearl earrings and necklace. My red heels finish off the ensemble. They’re a power color, which is what I exude in the boardroom. As we near the building, I grab my purse and pull out my compact, checking one last time to make sure my makeup is flawless. The cab stops. I put my compact away, swipe my credit card, and head in to Raven Cosmetics’ headquarters.

Heading straight for the receptionist, I introduce myself, “Hi, I’m Catherine Pope from CJJ PR. I have a twelve o’clock meeting.”

“Yes, Ms. Pope, they’re expecting you. I’ll bring you right back.” She smiles and walks me to the conference room.

“Thank you so much,” I say as she retreats back to the reception area.

Steeling myself, I place my hand on the door handle. The scent assaulting my senses stops me dead in my tracks. I know that smell—clean soap and cologne. I’m instantly taken back to the night I fell into Jackson’s lap. It’s like I can feel his strong hands setting my body on fire, see his enthralling god-like face, as his eyes penetrate my soul. I shiver, trying to compose myself. I look around expecting to see him, but I don’t. Someone else must wear the same cologne. I’m dreaming. That’s what this is because there is no way in hell he’s here. I need to focus, but it’s kind of hard when my stomach is in knots. Shaking my head to release the memory, I draw a calming breath and open the door.

Entering the conference room, I look around, taking in the floor to ceiling windows, the long dark table, the small woman in a suit with short blond hair, and the two people talking over to the side near a refreshment area. All I can see of the two people is the man’s back, but as he turns his head his eyes lock on mine, and the past hits me all over again.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Please, God, let me get through this. Of all the people at Boyce PR, they chose Neil to take over this account. I should’ve known.

He gives me a smug smile before he shifts, revealing the person behind him.

Piper.

My stomach plummets as the floor drops from beneath me.

Her eyes peruse me as a snide smile forms on her plastic face. My chest hurts. It literally hurts to breath. I can do this. I have to do this. It’s only my ex and the woman he cheated on me with—easy day. Right. Just another meeting.

The small woman approaches with her hand extended. “Hi, I’m Danielle Masters, the assistant to the CEO of Raven Cosmetics. You must be Catherine. This is Piper Carlson. She’s consulting with us. And that’s Neil Mullins with Boyce PR,” she says, pointing toward Neil and Piper.

If karma is paying me back for something I did in a past life, I’d like to say after this my debt is fully paid. My professional sense kicks in immediately. I straighten myself, and prepare to kick some ass. If I fail, they win, and that’s not an option.

“Danielle, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I extend my hand and shake hers. She has kind eyes and a brief but genuine smile.

“Nice to meet you as well. I apologize that Mr. Cole isn’t able to attend. He had an emergency, which is why we called in Ms. Carlson’s firm to assist us in deciding the best publicist to help us achieve our vision,” she replies.

“Of course. I understand.” I smile and place my bag on the table. I’m going to lose my mind before today is over. I glance up, looking at Neil and Piper, who are now standing in front of me.

“Catherine, you look lovely as ever.” Neil smiles, but I know him well enough to see the underlying sarcasm.

“Neil, good to see you again so soon.” I’m biting my tongue so hard I swear I’m going to taste blood. Right now I’m anything but good.

Neil turns his attention to Piper, and I have to choke down the bile climbing up my throat. I try not to look at her. Though I knew she was an independent marketing consultant, I had no idea either of them would be at this meeting. A few years back, Piper formed her own company. Basically, she acts as neutral third party who evaluates an agency’s ideas and then helps the client find the one best suited for their vision. So, of course she’s here. I can kiss this account good-bye.

I turn to Piper and try to refrain from wrapping my hands around her neck. “Piper, I’m surprised to see you here.” That’s all I’m able to manage in terms of niceties.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be presenting,” she retorts.

Sure she wasn’t. I’m sure Danielle filled her in on the details of the account and was told CJJ would be here. I guess lying comes second nature to her. Seems she and Neil have a few things in common.

Neil places his hand on her lower back and she smiles at him before walking over to stand by Danielle. Gathering my confidence and all strength I have left, I smile and mentally roll my eyes. They deserve each other. Assholes.

Danielle points to the chairs, instructing us to have a seat as she and Piper sit opposite us. “Let’s begin. Who would like to go first?”

I quickly yet politely jump in to gain the upper hand. “I’m happy to go second, Neil. Since this is a last-minute meeting for you, I’m sure you have other clients that need your attention,” I say in a saccharine voice, putting on my best fake smile.

“That’s very considerate of you.” He knows he can’t argue, or he would look like an asshole. Well, more of an asshole than he already is.

Let the games begin.

Danielle steps in. “Yes, Neil, we don’t want to keep you. Please begin. I’m sure Catherine and I can continue without you if you need be somewhere.”

Neil takes over forty minutes to present—in my opinion—a mediocre presentation. He obviously didn’t prepare as much as I have, but that’s typical of him. He and Piper keep sharing tender glances, making me want to gouge my eyes out. Judging from their body language, I’d guess their relationship has progressed. Clearly they’re still together. I don’t want to be here and now I’m having difficulty focusing, but this is my chance and I can’t blow it. He drones on and on and I’ve mostly tuned him out, until I notice the words he’s speaking sound extremely familiar.

“The number one market segment we need to reach are the young girls starting to wear makeup. My company will use several targeted social media campaigns as well as television spots to engage these consumers. Girls between the ages of fourteen and nineteen spend at least 78% of their time...” This is exactly my pitch. He goes on, meeting my eyes and silently confirming that he’s somehow gotten my presentation. I look over at Danielle and Piper to see how engaged they are—Piper is hanging on his every word, but Danielle doesn’t seem impressed. He’s cocky and condescending, talking to her as though he’s above her because she’s only an assistant.

My head is spinning. I can’t believe this. How did this jackass get my files? How did he get my social media stats and all my graphics? I did everything at home and then emailed my graph and presentation to myself. There’s no way he could have gotten them.

I’m trying to contain my rage and maintain my professionalism, but right now I could tear him limb from limb. I’ve never wanted to inflict bodily harm on someone as much as I do in this moment—hell, I could kill him with the rage coursing through me. Once again, Neil has stolen something from me and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Thankfully, I always have a backup plan. My hands are shaking with barely contained anger as Neil finishes and sits.