Chapter 478 - Missed Me?

Chapter 478: Chapter 478 - Missed Me?

Roxie spotted the black SUV parked a short distance from Crestline’s entrance. A man in a dark suit stood beside it, and when he saw her approaching, he immediately opened the rear door.

"Ms. Jones."

"Thank you."

She ducked inside and found Zac sitting on the opposite side, dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, casually scrolling through his phone.

God, the bastard looked ridiculously handsome.

He glanced at her. "Hey."

Roxie settled into the seat, adjusting her handbag as the driver closed the door. "That’s all I get? You show up at my workplace without warning, make me rush downstairs, and all you have to say is hey?"

"Dinner."

She stared at him. "What?"

"We’re having dinner."

"Zac, you could’ve asked me. I have a job, and I was actually doing something when you called. What if I had plans tonight?"

"Do you?"

Roxie opened her mouth, then closed it.

Well, fuck you too.

"That’s beside the point," she replied. "I happen to be free tonight, but that doesn’t mean you get to decide how I spend my evening. What if I was in the middle of a broadcast? Were you planning to sit outside and wait until I finished?"

"Yeah."

She stared at him.

The nerve of this man.

She’d spent most of the day wondering whether he’d call, and now he was sitting beside her acting like picking her up for dinner was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Why had he even come personally? They could’ve discussed the interview over the phone. And dinner? Really?

She’d left him in a rather embarrassing situation last night, and now he’d suddenly decided to take her somewhere expensive.

Suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Roxie studied him for a moment. He was still scrolling through his phone, apparently uninterested in whether she was annoyed with him.

A smile slowly spread across her face.

"Missed me?"

"Sure," he muttered without looking up.

Roxie blinked.

Well, that was disappointing.

She’d expected him to deny it, perhaps become irritated enough to remind her about something she’d said last night. Instead, the bastard had casually agreed without even looking at her.

Fine.

She shifted closer and placed a hand on his arm.

Zac sighed before finally looking away from his phone.

Wow, the nerve.

He was acting like she was the one bothering him, even though he’d practically ordered her downstairs.

"Last night," she continued, letting her fingers move slowly down his forearm, "you seemed pretty..." She paused near his wrist, watching his expression. "...worked up. Did you miss me that much?"

Irritation filled his eyes.

Roxie smiled, tracing the veins on the back of his hand with one finger. She still remembered his expression when she’d given him her underwear before leaving. The memory was so satisfying that she almost started laughing again.

"You know, you could’ve called me if you wanted to see me. I might’ve even answered. Although I suppose showing up at my office makes a much bigger impression."

"You’re talking too much, Roxie."

"Well, somebody has to talk. You’ve barely said anything since I got into the car. For a man who went through all this trouble to take me to dinner, you’re being remarkably poor company."

His mouth curved slightly.

Roxie narrowed her eyes.

Oh, the bastard.

She considered asking whether he’d kept her underwear, but decided to save that particular subject for another time.

Besides, she was hungry.

"So, where are we going? Because I came straight from work, and I’d appreciate knowing whether I’m dressed appropriately. I was planning to go home and eat whatever Angela had prepared."

Zac glanced at her blouse and skirt.

"You’re fine."

"Thank you for that detailed assessment. I was beginning to worry you’d have some ridiculous requirements about what I’m supposed to wear too."

He returned his attention to his phone.

Roxie sighed dramatically.

"Fine. Since you’re apparently determined to ignore me, I’ll just entertain myself."

"Then shut up, Rox."

She frowned.

The fuck was his problem?

She was about to pull her hand away and give him a proper lecture about his attitude when his fingers suddenly closed around hers.

Roxie froze.

Wait.

What?

Her hand was enclosed in his, his larger fingers wrapped around hers as he continued scrolling through his phone with the other hand.

He’d actually taken her hand.

And apparently, he had no intention of letting go.

The warmth of his palm made her cheeks heat up almost immediately.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She’d been deliberately touching him to irritate him, and now he’d turned it into something embarrassingly familiar.

When they were teenagers, Zac used to reach for her hand whenever they sat together. Sometimes he’d be watching television, talking to his friends, or complaining about practice, and he’d take her hand without even looking.

He was doing exactly that now.

Roxie stared at their joined hands.

His thumb moved absently across her knuckles.

God.

She remembered that too.

She’d loved how naturally he used to do it, especially when they were around other people. Sometimes he would hold her hand throughout an entire conversation, rubbing his thumb over her skin while barely paying attention to what he was doing.

And now, after ten years, he was doing the same thing.

Roxie swallowed.

Perhaps this was another attempt to make her uncomfortable. He’d noticed her trying to provoke him and decided to return the favor.

Well, she wasn’t giving him that satisfaction.

She settled back against her seat, determined to behave as though having Zac Prescott hold her hand was perfectly ordinary.

For the next several minutes, they remained quiet while the SUV moved through Manhattan traffic. Zac continued reading something on his phone, occasionally typing a response without releasing her.

Meanwhile, Roxie became increasingly conscious of his hand around hers.

It was ridiculous.

They’d done considerably more intimate things than this, and yet she was sitting there getting embarrassed over holding hands.

She glanced at Zac and he looked perfectly comfortable.

The bastard.

By the time the vehicle stopped, she’d almost convinced herself that she was unaffected.

Then Zac released her hand.

Roxie looked down at her fingers before catching herself.

He slipped his phone into his pocket and got out of the SUV. A moment later, he appeared on her side and opened the door.

Roxie hurriedly adjusted her handbag before stepping out.

Her face was still warm, and she was beginning to resent the entire evening.

The restaurant was tucked away on a quiet Manhattan street, with a discreet entrance and a doorman waiting outside.

A staff member greeted Zac by name and escorted them through a separate hallway into an elegant dining room overlooking a courtyard.

"Your usual private room has been prepared, Mr. Prescott," the man said. "We arranged everything through the side entrance as requested."

Roxie glanced at Zac.

Oh.

So he’d planned this.

There were only a handful of tables in the room, spaced far enough apart that the guests could enjoy their conversations without being overheard.

She looked around with interest. The place was beautiful, with soft lighting, expensive furniture, and enormous windows overlooking the courtyard.

"So this is how you manage to eat dinner without somebody posting pictures of you online," she said as they took their seats. "Must be nice having restaurants practically hide you from the public."

Zac accepted the menu without commenting.

Roxie was actually grateful for the privacy. The last thing she needed was someone photographing her having dinner with Zac Prescott and starting another ridiculous rumor about her personal life.

She’d already endured enough public humiliation at Crestline.

When she opened the menu, however, her attention quickly shifted to something else.

Jesus.

She’d eaten at expensive restaurants before, usually during industry events, but the prices here were considerably higher than what she’d normally spend on dinner.

She glanced across the table.

Zac was studying the menu without the slightest concern.

The man probably spent more on dinner than she spent on groceries in a month.

When the waiter returned, Roxie ordered a steak and accepted his recommendation for a glass of red wine. Zac placed his order with considerably fewer words, and after the waiter left, she decided it was time to discuss the reason she’d visited his mansion in the first place.

"So, about the interview."

Zac looked at her.

Roxie nearly bit her tongue.

God, why did asking him for something still make her feel uncomfortable? She’d spent an entire evening explaining her proposal, and after everything that had happened between them, surely she could ask a simple question.

"I still haven’t received a definite answer from you, and Victor’s already asking about our next guest. Are you actually agreeing to appear on my show?"

"Yes."

Roxie blinked.

"Yes?"

He gave her a look.

She sat straighter.

"Wait, you’re serious? Because I have the proposal ready, and once we confirm the filming dates, Victor can coordinate everything with your management team. We’d probably need a few days to prepare, but if your schedule allows it, we could release the episode before the end of the month."

"Have him contact my office."

Roxie stared at him.

Then a smile spread across her face.

God.

She’d actually done it.

An exclusive interview with Zac Prescott.

She’d spent weeks trying to secure guests for her struggling YouTube program, and now one of the biggest names in professional football had agreed to participate.

Victor was going to lose his mind.

She could already imagine him rushing toward her desk with his tablet, asking about filming dates, locations, and promotional material. They’d finally have something impressive to present to the network.

And Graham?

Oh, she couldn’t wait to see that bastard’s expression.

He’d spent weeks complaining about her program and refusing to provide a reasonable promotional budget. Now she’d managed to secure a guest who could attract more viewers than any of the celebrities they’d approached.

She wanted to message Victor immediately, but decided to wait until she’d sent the proposal to Zac’s office.

Still, she couldn’t stop smiling.

For the first time in days, the future of her show seemed considerably brighter.

"And our arrangement," Zac said.

Her smile faded.

Right.

That.

Roxie picked up her water glass, suddenly remembering the ridiculous conditions she’d agreed to just to spite him.

Regular meetings. Answering his calls. Making herself available whenever he wanted.

God, what the fuck had she gotten herself into?

She’d gone to his house intending to convince him to appear on her show. Instead, she’d agreed to sleep with him because she was furious that he’d tried to humiliate her.

Now she was sitting across from him, preparing to discuss an arrangement she’d accepted without seriously considering how it would affect her life.

Wait.

Had that bastard somehow manipulated her into agreeing?

Roxie studied him.

He was calmly drinking his water, looking entirely unaffected by their conversation.

She remembered his reaction when she’d said yes. His smirk had disappeared, and he’d immediately become irritated. He’d made increasingly ridiculous demands and repeatedly offered her opportunities to change her mind.

No.

He’d wanted her to refuse. She was certain of that.

He’d been trying to humiliate her, and she’d ruined whatever plan he’d had by agreeing.

But that didn’t mean she’d made a sensible decision.

She was perfectly aware that sleeping with her ex-boyfriend, who apparently resented her enough to make such an insulting proposition, could create problems she had absolutely no intention of dealing with.

Especially after Italy.

Roxie took another drink.

Well, it was too late to pretend she’d made the decision for sensible reasons. She’d agreed because she was angry, and now she needed to figure out how to handle the consequences.

At least she knew something Zac seemed determined to hide.

He was still attracted to her.

He could behave as though he barely tolerated her company, but she’d seen how he reacted when she challenged him in his gym. That arrogant bastard had been just as affected as she was.

And judging by his expression when she’d agreed, he hadn’t expected her to turn the situation against him.

Roxie set down her glass.

She’d have to establish some boundaries, of course. She had a career to protect, and she wasn’t about to let Zac rearrange her entire life whenever he felt like it.

But if he intended to keep acting like the superior one in this ridiculous arrangement, she could certainly make things difficult for him too.

Perhaps that would make the whole situation a little more entertaining.

Their food arrived a few minutes later, and Roxie took her time enjoying the steak. It was excellent, although she would never have admitted that the ridiculous price was justified.

Zac sat across from her, looking completely relaxed as he cut into his meal. His phone vibrated once, and he glanced at the screen before setting it beside his plate.

Roxie watched him.

The man had personally come to Crestline, taken her to one of the most expensive restaurants she’d visited, and then practically stopped talking.

Was this his idea of entertaining a woman?

He was getting rusty.

She remembered him being considerably more talkative when they were younger. Back then, he could spend an entire dinner complaining about his teammates, teasing her, or explaining whatever ridiculous thing he intended to buy once he became a professional football player.

He used to complain that she talked too much, but he’d spend hours telling her about his day.

Now she was lucky if she got three complete sentences out of him.

Roxie took another bite of her steak.

At least the food was excellent.

"So, Prescott, are you planning to spend the entire evening looking at your phone? Because if I’d known you were going to be such terrible company, I would’ve brought my laptop. At least I could’ve finished some work."

Zac slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Happy?"

"Very. See? We’re making progress already. Now we can actually have a conversation like two civilized adults."

He gave her an unimpressed look before returning to his steak.

Roxie smiled into her wineglass.

God, he was difficult.

She took another bite of her food and noticed him glancing at her. Instead of looking away, she held his gaze for a moment before slowly drawing the fork from her mouth.

His eyes remained on her.

Oh.

That was interesting.

Roxie smiled slightly and reached for her wine. She’d spent half an hour yesterday watching him exercise, getting distracted by the sweat on his body and the sounds he made while lifting weights.

It seemed only fair that she should have an opportunity to return the favor.

When she lowered her glass, Zac was still watching her.

She felt a small rush of satisfaction.

He could pretend to be bored with her company, but apparently he was paying attention after all.

She decided to use the opportunity to ask something that had been bothering her.

"Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about our arrangement."

Zac put down his fork.

Roxie noticed immediately.

Well, she’d finally found a subject that interested him.

"You were very specific about when I’m supposed to answer your calls and how quickly you expect me to come whenever you want to see me, but you were rather vague about everything else."

He watched her without speaking.

Roxie leaned back against her chair.

"I mean, we probably need some actual rules. I have a career, Zac, and you have your football schedule. We can’t just assume everything will work out whenever you decide you want company."

"Then what do you suggest?"

She raised an eyebrow.

Oh, so he could participate in a conversation when he wanted to.

Roxie took another sip of wine, considering how to phrase her next question.

She knew perfectly well what their arrangement involved. She simply wanted to hear him explain it without hiding behind those arrogant remarks of his.

And if she could make him uncomfortable while doing it, even better.

"So, how exactly do you imagine this working?" she asked, placing her glass down. "You call me whenever you’re in the mood, I come over, we fuck, and then I go home? Is that the entire arrangement?"

Zac stopped moving.

Roxie smiled.

Finally.

She’d managed to get his complete attention.

He slowly put down his knife, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and looked directly at her. But something in his expression made her smile falter.

Oh.

She knew that look.

She’d seen it in Italy.

Roxie straightened slightly, suddenly aware that he was watching her far more closely than he had throughout dinner.

She’d wanted to provoke him, and apparently she’d succeeded.

Zac leaned back against his chair, studying her for another moment.

Then he spoke.

"Who said you’d be going home?"