“Thanks, Tay. I need to print out some files I emailed myself last night.”

“I found out that you’re going to be dealing with two people: the assistant and another member of their team.”

I seriously couldn’t do this without her. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

The people at Raven Cosmetics are anxious to get a publicist on board quickly. The more I learn about them, the more my confidence grows. I know I’d represent them well. I know this demographic. Plus, with my vast amount of contacts in this particular industry, I’d be able to get them in the spotlight easily.

Taylor turns to me, giving me the remainder of the files and presentation boards she had mocked up. Her sweet, timid voice is now firm, making sure I’m ready. “Were you able to find out any more information on the CEO?”

“No. And I despise the secrets behind this account. I asked around again. All I found out was that Mr. Cole recently took over. Whoever was running things early on left, and the interim CEO didn’t want to stay on.” I let out a frustrated sigh.

Taylor and I scoured the Internet and questioned all our contacts to learn anything we could about Raven Cosmetics. The company is only about four years old, but they’ve changed CEOs three times already. Even so, they’ve grown extremely fast in the industry. They have a line of natural eye products that exploded and skyrocketed them to the top.

The rumors floating around are that when the first CEO and co-owner left abruptly, someone stepped in as acting CEO. I don’t know what happened with the acting CEO, but the silent partner, Mr. Cole, stepped in, apparently worried about the image of his company. As he should be. A young company needs to portray strength and consistency to its consumers and investors. That’s why they decided to seek out a publicist to help clean up their chaotic, and relatively unstable, image.

“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 f**king 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.