Page 118 of The Don's Virgin Obsession
“Yes, sir.”
He looked toward marketing next.
“I want Crown Heights looking untouchable online before opening day. We’re selling aspiration before keys even touch hands.”
Everybody was writing fast, trying to keep up with him.
I sat there quietly admiring him.
Not just because he looked good.
He looked alive again.
At one point, his eyes found mine across the table and held for a second too long before he continued talking like nothing happened.
That little moment alone almost made me blush.
“Bennett Interiors,” he finally said, looking toward me directly now, “still ahead of schedule?”
I cleared my throat quickly. “Of course.”
He smirked. “That’s why y’all here.”
Laila kicked my foot under the table immediately.
I ignored her.
The meeting kept going for another hour, but honestly, I barely heard half of it after that.
All I could think was: Vaughn St. Clair was finally coming back to life.
Sade
“I spent the whole night trying not to think about Vaughn while everybody else slowly figured out exactly who he wanted.”
Marcus and I were still technically together, but I was seeing him less and less. Not on purpose.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
Vaughn and I had gotten closer after the Ritz. Way closer. We texted throughout the day now. Not even always flirty either. Sometimes he would just randomly text me pictures of furniture, buildings, food, or ask me which color shirt looked better. We spent so much time together at Crown Heights that the line between business and personal had completely blurred.
I liked it.
Marcus noticed too. He started asking more questions. Calling more often. Wanting more time.
One night while we were eating tacos in his kitchen, he looked at me and asked,“You seeing somebody else?”
The way he asked it caught me off guard.
Aggressive almost.
“No,” I answered quickly.
He stared at me a little too long before nodding.
But Vaughn’s voice stayed in the back of my head anyway.
Drop that nigga, Sade.
