Chapter 4 Playing With Fire

TAYLOR’s POV

I read the words in tiny type on the invite that I’d skipped before an unhealthy number of times. I had to swap my therapist for an optician.

From the corner of my eye, Zay got up from where he was sitting.

I turned away and tucked loose strands of my hair behind my ear a few times. A chill spider-walked down my spine and it had nothing to do with the salty, ocean breeze racing through the deck. I couldn’t see him, but his eyes bored holes in my back. I fisted the invite I’d taken out of my purse and my dress at my side, my heart thrumming.

I was here to get acquainted with as many people as I could, here to get Romolo to notice me fitting in with his staff, and here to do everything humanly possible to not get fired from my job. Nothing bound me to wait for Zay to come over here and hound me about being unsuitable.

I had a Master’s degree in Film production, and years of experience with freelance documentary work. My credentials were unmatched at the office, and Ava knew that. I was not replaceable. I deserved this. 

Though I’d almost messed up my whole career when Caleb’s mother was ill and I had to take leaves to watch her at the hospital while he supposedly went on a life-changing business trip. I still deserved to be regarded by Zay fucking Anderson.

“Good evening,” I said, thrusting myself into an ongoing conversation between two random men.

They paused, turning and taking me in.

I grinned despite the web of nerves in my throat. “Gentlemen, I’m in dire need of company and this seemed to be where all the fun was going down.” I stood beside the one with a mop of black hair on his head, batting my lashes at them. “No?” 

He laughed. “Maybe. What do you say, Garcia?” 

The other man, Garcia. He was brawny, tall, and not a day over forty. 

“Considering we were just talking about statistical data, I would say no.” He offered me a hand and a smile that made my bones sigh. “Luke Garcia. The race engineer around here.”

I shook his hand and unconsciously sidled closer to his friend, whose face strongly reminded me of someone I had seen before. I just couldn’t place where.

“My name is Taylor. I make documentaries.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful person. I’m Neo, but everyone calls me Saint.” 

“Oh.” My head tilted. “Why? Are you catholic?”

He was speechless.

“I like her. She’s fun.” Garcia fisted his mouth, chuckling as he walked away to get a refill of his drink. 

My lips pursed and I winced. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” He almost grinned. “I know you did that on purpose.”

“I couldn’t resist.”

We laughed together as the last of the fireworks fizzled into the deep, cloudless sky. Conversations were in full swing left and right. 

But Neo wasn’t a stranger. I also knew he didn’t work for Romolo. I once heard Ava mention his name over the phone and just remembered I saw him coming out of her office last month. Could she have sent him here to spy on my progress? Did she suspect I didn’t have things under control? Or has Pinnacle Motors already reached out to her about a change?

“I got the name Saint because in business, I’m a fixer.”

“Speaking of business, I work for Ava Winnow.”

“The Ava Winnow of Phoenix TV?” His surprise seemed genuine. “That’s pleasant news. I wasn’t expecting to run into one of her journalists out here.”

I was trying to get a read on him while making a mental note to find out everything there was to him once we were back on land. 

“Well, happenstance seems to be a theme in my life these days—“

Someone chuckled dryly behind me, and Neo and I looked at the same time. People were approaching. 

It wasn’t their guard uniforms weakening my knees, it was the furious-looking star driver leading them. 

Strands of his perfect hair swirled with the breeze. The muscles in his thighs strained against his straight black pants as he walked. 

“Seize her,” Zay crooned, and if gazes could burn, I’d be a pile of ash against the wind by now. 

“No, I refuse to go anywhere,” I snapped. He’d done nothing but undermine me since our meeting earlier, and had even tried to bruise my wrist. “Care to explain what this is, Mr. Anderson?”

A few eyes were on us and trouble seemed to be brewing. I began to sweat.

Zay’s jaw rippled. “It’s a staff-only event.”

“What’s he doing here then?” I folded my arms, keeping my weight on one foot in a bid to assert the control that was quickly slipping from my grasp.

Neo’s hand brushed over the small of my back. “Actually, I’m a sports reputation consultant for Astra Global. We are currently in business with Pinnacle Motors—though, I think we should all calm down.” He extended both hands, looking minuscule compared to the burly builds of the bouncers behind Zay and the star driver himself. 

His job was a thing. I knew that much. 

But it made sense why he’s been in touch with Ava. I was so wrong about him being a potential spy from the office. What if there’s something wrong with Zay’s reputation underneath all the hype? What if this documentary was Neo’s genius idea to save the day?

“Okay, I see… but I have a sense of pride. I wouldn’t go where I’m not wanted.” I took out the invite from my purse.

“Where did you get that?”

“Why, Mr. Anderson? You think I picked it up from a dumpster?” I cocked my head and smiled tightly. 

Zay did that thing he would always do;

Crush the gap between us until he was at the center of my vision and mind, until the rest of the world vanished into thin air, until I couldn’t decide if he hated me or wanted me. 

“Answer me,” he whispered, and his breath literally grazed my lips. 

“I’m not bound to do so, Mr. Anderson.”

He shot me a look I would remember for the rest of my days on earth. So dark and swaddled with heat I shuddered. 

“That mouth of yours is trouble.”

Yet you kissed it. 

I swallowed the words immediately and glanced at the lonely, crescent moon above, an erosion of pain drilling into my heart.

“Zay, come on.” Neo cleared his throat, a respectful hand still on my back. “What if we say Taylor is my plus one? We can all go back to enjoying the night. Problem solved, right?”

“No.”

“What?” Neo laughed.

“She will never be your plus one because she’s leaving,” Zay growled just as Blaze and Nellie made their way through the crowd. “I will escort her myself… respectfully.”

He stepped back, holding out his hand like the gentleman he was not. 

I studied it for a moment, and my thoughts derailed to what his strong fingers had felt like on my skin.

The contract was signed, but I was not the journalist chosen, and Romolo would reach out to Ava soonest to correct that. I’d be done for in a matter of hours. This was my last chance. 

“The only way you’d get me off this yacht is by tossing me into the sea… respectfully.”