Chapter 2: Scandalous Park Avenue Prince: Chapter 1

Present day – Late November I GLANCED AT the time in the corner of my computer screen to see it was closing in on seven p.m. The rest of the office had long since gone home, but my workload was overflowing, and as CEO of CTA— Carrington Talent Agency—I didn’t have the luxury of clocking in and out. I wished someone had told me that fun fact when I decided to branch out on my own. Between managing talent and contracts and then heading up the Elysium, it was…a lot. Probably too much, but for the moment, I could handle it. It wasn’t like I had other commitments outside of work, especially with Serena having moved out a few weeks ago.

It was just me, my work, and I.

Fuck, that was depressing. But it kept me too busy to think about it much, which was another reason I kept piling on more responsibilities.

There was a knock on my door, and when my assistant, Sasha, poked her head inside, I frowned.

“I thought you’d gone home already. It’s late.”

“You know I wouldn’t leave you with appointments still lined up. Your last one is here now.”

My fingers stilled on the keyboard. “Another one? With who?” I hadn’t bothered to check my schedule, but I’d assumed I hadn’t been crazy enough to book anything late on a Friday.

Apparently not.

“Preston Abernathy. Would you like me to send him in now or have him wait?”

I didn’t hear anything she said after the first two words because every fiber in my body froze. Fuck. I couldn’t meet with Preston. Not here. Not alone. I’d only seen him in passing or with Serena since the night of the charity ball, when I’d lost my ever–loving mind.

Shit, shit, shit. What the hell was he doing here? And how could I get rid of him without making it too obvious?

“Mr. Carrington?” Sasha’s brow furrowed, and I forced myself to shake off my unease and give her a tight smile.

“Did he say what he needed? Maybe it’s something you can take care of, since I’m swamped.”

“Actually, sir, you scheduled this appointment a while back. Regarding the Elysium’s Winter Ball.” When I inwardly cursed myself, her frown deepened. “Should I reschedule?”

“Yes. No.” Fuck. What were the odds he’d forgotten about that night? I still had no good explanation for what had come over me. Christ, just thinking about kissing my daughter’s boyfriend now made me cringe, even as my traitorous body heated at the memory.

Which was why I’d shut down all thoughts regarding Preston in the weeks since. Nothing good could come from remembering his lips on mine⁠—

I rubbed my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut, and sighed. Despite this not being a good idea—at all—I couldn’t deny I needed the help for the Winter Ball. And he was already here…

“Send him in,” I said, before I could change my mind.

“Will do. Is there anything else you need before I go?”

My head jerked up. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ve got dinner plans with Harvey.” She smiled at the mention of her husband, but then it dimmed a little. “Unless you need me to stay?”

“No, no, of course not. I appreciate your working late, but go enjoy the weekend.”

She nodded but hesitated in the doorway. “Are you sure?”

I tried to ignore the panic in my chest and forced a smile. “Yes, now go. And tell Harvey I said hello.”

“Thank you. Don’t work too late.”

“No promises.”

As she left to go get Preston, I saved the file I’d been working on and ran my sweaty palms over the top of my tailored pants.

God, get it together. You’re the adult here.

I stared at the half-cracked door, my heartbeat counting down the seconds as I did my level best to compose myself. I was a professional, for fuck’s sake. The owner of this damn company. If I couldn’t handle a conversation with a college kid, then I might as well throw in the towel right now.

The quick rap of knuckles on the door did nothing to slow my pulse before Preston appeared. He filled my doorway dressed in a pair of tailored grey pants, black turtleneck sweater, and peacoat, and the whole “kid” angle flew right out the fucking window.

When he stepped inside my office and went to shut the door behind him, I got to my feet. “You can leave that open.”

Preston’s arm froze and dropped to his side, and his caramel-colored eyes narrowed a fraction.

“Okay.” He grabbed the strap of his messenger bag, but otherwise didn’t move. “Should I also stay standing over here?”

I wasn’t sure if it was my paranoia or something else, but I could’ve sworn there was a hint of…mocking in his tone.

No, it had to be me. Preston was nothing if not polite. Always respectful. Like me, he had put that moment of insanity in a box and locked it, and, like it was some unspoken agreement, we had never mentioned it or talked about it since.

Granted, I’d been doing everything in my power to avoid any time alone with him. But the couple of occasions we had seen one another, it had been cordial…normal. Now would be no different.

“No, of course not. Come in, take a seat. I was just wrapping things up for the day.”

“For the day? You do see it’s night out there, right?”

I sat back down and busied myself with nothing in particular, because that was safer than watching Preston cross my office and sit down opposite me. Serena had been dating him for how long? And suddenly I couldn’t look at him without noticing things like how long his legs were, how thick his windswept hair was, and how full those lips that I’d had pressed up against⁠—

No. I was not going to think about that.

“I do, actually.” I glanced out of my office window to the city lights surrounding our building. “If I’m being honest, I was about to head home. I’d forgotten we even had a meeting.”

“Ouch, talk about a blow to the ego.”

My attention shifted back to Preston to see a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“And here I’d been counting down the days.”

My breath caught as that smile spread to his eyes, and I realized that box I thought we’d locked and set aside had just been reopened—by him.

Not about to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole, I decided to do the mature thing and ignore it altogether. “We really do need to get things up and running for the Winter Ball, so it’s a good thing I scheduled it after all.”

Preston crooked his head a fraction, eyeing me closely, and I made sure to keep my expression neutral.

Then he nodded. “That’s why you’re the boss. Tell me what you need.”

Jesus, why did everything he said seem to have a double meaning? Or maybe that was me? Fuck. I felt like some confused, nervous teenager.

What did I need? I needed a stiff drink and to get Preston Abernathy out of my office before I said something I would regret.

“Archer?”

At the sound of my name—my first name—coming out of Preston’s mouth, any talk of Winter Balls and schedules left my head.

This extra familiarity he seemed comfortable taking with me needed to stop. It was exactly what I was afraid of. Time to put my foot down.

“You mean Mr. Carrington, don’t you?”

He blinked once and then gave me a polite nod. “Of course. My apologies…Mr. Carrington.”

Shit, now why did even that somehow sound sexual?

I cleared my throat, desperately needing a glass of anything, but drinking was how we’d ended up in such an…entanglement before.

One click of a button and the folder Sasha had organized for me appeared on the screen—all the details for the Winter Ball segmented out by who’d volunteered. No one received compensation for their roles, choosing to help out to win my good graces, be considered for a position on the board during the next election, or to suggest their own companies for what would be a massive payday, if they were chosen.

Preston had none of those reasons for being here, for volunteering to help with any of our past events or this one, other than his parents putting him up to it. He’d never acted like it was a chore, though, even though I knew how much time it took away from things he’d much rather be doing. No one in their junior year of college was dying to spend hours putting together an event for a mostly older crowd.

I printed the list that Sasha had marked with Preston’s name and then sent it to his email as well. It wasn’t like this was our first time working together, but it felt different now.

Preston reached for the printed papers before I could. “Thank you.”

As he scanned the long to-do list, I scanned him. His chestnut-colored hair was swept back from his face in a perfectly polished way that, along with his very Upper East Side attire, said he wanted to be taken seriously. Dark brows pulled together as he read over the list. My eyes trailed down his face and locked on his full bottom lip.

Before that night, I’d never really looked at Preston before. Not that way. Obviously I’d noticed he was a good-looking guy, but only in the way that you’d appreciate someone as you passed them on the street. He’d always been so well mannered when I saw him, even when he was at my house with Serena. More on the quiet side, no hint of the immoral behavior his group of friends were known for.

Though we were who we hung out with, weren’t we?

And after that night, it was clear Preston wasn’t just a shy, deferential type. Not with that wicked flicker he’d had in his eyes when he walked in here tonight.

I was so fucked.

Needing something to do with my hands, I clasped them on the desk in front of me and tried to remain unaffected by the change in energy I’d felt since he arrived.

“Does that work for you?” I said. “If you’d prefer to hand this event off to someone else, I’m sure I could find⁠—”

“No.” He looked up at me. “I can handle this.”

I should’ve been relieved, since he was one of the people I could count on to get things done, regardless of his age, but having him in such close proximity, working together on this for the next few weeks…it would be complicated.

Unless it didn’t have to be.

“As you lock down quotes, I’ll have you report them to Sasha, and she’ll go over them with me⁠—”

“Wait, I’m not reporting directly to you?”

I gestured to my meticulously stacked, but at capacity, desktop. “As you can see, I’m a little busy.”

A hint of a smirk crossed his lips. “Riiight. A little busy for me, you mean.”

“That’s not what I⁠—”

“You’ve never been too busy before.”

It was all I could do to keep my calm, because he knew exactly the why of it all, and I wasn’t going to spell it out for him.

Keeping my hands clasped, I kept my tone friendly and casual. “This is the event of the year for the Elysium. I’ll have to delegate if I want things to flow smoothly.”

“You mean you’ll have to delegate me because you don’t trust yourself to be alone with me.”

My breath caught in my throat as my gaze bounced from the open door of my office back to Preston. “Excuse me?”

“What? Worried someone will hear?” He moved to the edge of his seat and slapped the papers on top of the desk. “No one else is around. You can be honest with me now.”

There was no way in hell I could be honest about what I was thinking, and definitely not about what I was feeling. But the fact he was calling me out on it meant I was in a world of trouble—because he was feeling it too.

“Look, I’ve had a long week, and I’d really like⁠—”

“Me to leave? To stay? To kiss you again?”

“That’s enough.” I pushed to my feet in an effort to regain some control of the situation. “I think you should leave.”

Preston slowly got to his feet, his gaze unwavering as he eyed me across the desk. “I’ll leave if you’ll be honest with me.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“You pretending we didn’t kiss? Or that you didn’t enjoy it?”

I gritted my teeth and sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of my nose in an effort to calm myself. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

“Why not? I’m the one that was there.”

“I know.” The two words came out much harsher than I’d anticipated, but what did he expect? I was doing my level best to get through this meeting and get him the hell out of my office. But he kept pushing and pushing.

“Then why can’t we talk about it?”

“Because you’re my daughter’s boyfriend,” I snapped, letting out a sigh as I ran a hand through my hair. The weight of what I’d just said, the guilt of that one confession, twisted in my gut like a knife.

“Am I?”

My head jerked up, and I glared at the gorgeous face watching me with laser focus. “What does that mean?”

Preston’s lips curved into a smile I didn’t quite understand as he scooped up the papers on my desk and then turned for his bag. As he slung the strap over his shoulder, he slipped the papers inside and turned back to where I still stood, frozen in place, waiting for…

Fuck if I knew.

“What does that mean, Preston?”

“It means that before you start delegating me to others, you should talk to your daughter. Because if that’s all that’s stopping you from taking what you clearly want—and yeah, I know when a man wants me—then maybe Serena should come clean about what’s really going on between us.”

What was he talking about? Him and Serena had been a couple for years. None of this made any sense. How would he know if a man wanted him? That I wanted him?

I was confused, irritated, and undeniably turned on as he patted his bag.

“I’ll get to work on this list and see you on Monday to talk figures, Mr. Carrington.”