OUR LIPS AREN'T SEALED (#2 STEAMY CEO ROMANCE)

☼ fifteen ☼

The party continued into the wee hours of the night, though Axel sent me home much earlier. I'd begged him to—the longer I lingered, drinking, mingling, the less I trusted myself.

If I ended up being there last, not only would I be putting myself in a position to want to sleep with him again, but Estelle's suspicions would grow.

When I woke in the morning, the journalist we'd invited emailed a link to his article. I smiled as I read it. It was a glowing review of an upper-scale, L.A. party, where he praised the planning skills, the decorative crew, and wished luck to the brides in their new lives. Tasteful, mostly accurate, and no pictures that hadn't been approved by Axel.

Best of all, no pictures of me or Axel sending each other hungry gazes across the crowded room.

The article featured Paradox in a positive way—Olivia would be thrilled—but it also showcased me and L.A. Love Wedding Planners.

"The planner, Vivienne Clarke, pulled this all together at the drop of a hat, bringing a group of eclectic, expensive vendors to collaborate for such a star-studded night. Congrats to her, and kudos to her firm, L.A. Love Wedding Planners, for their extensive knowledge in the industry."

It wasn't fair; I hadn't pulled any of it together. I'd sent directions and told everyone to be at Axel's place to set-up.

I'd been too busy in the guest bathroom with my legs spread apart. There wasn't a single thing about the party that I should have gotten credit for.

But, knowing Axel, he'd want me to shut up and take that credit anyway, so I wouldn't lose my job.

A few hours later, as I was about to leave my studio to start my rounds, I received an email from Brent; a string of fake words that could only be construed as passive-aggressive congratulations.

I never would have trusted you with any of it, but I'm thankful you managed to get a reporter to mention us in a good way. Whatever you're doing, I guess it's working, so try not to mess anything up, okay?

I winced as I typed up a quick thank-you and a promise to keep working my ass off.

Little did he know, I'd done nothing for the engagement party. I was the errand-girl, meeting with vendors, negotiating prices that Axel would pay anyway, running about town touring all sorts of venues for other events leading up to the wedding.

It was draining, and the planned date felt like it was around the corner.

There was still so much to do.

I rushed around in a mix of Ubers and public transportation, trying not to think about last night. Trying not to let the notion of Axel and I's sneaking around bother me.

Because our sneaking around had drawn the wrong attention.

Estelle knew.

Estelle knew about us, and Axel hadn't denied it. But what did she know? Had she only perceived a hint of the attraction between us? Maybe thought it was innocent?

Had she gauged the lustful looks we believed were so discreet, and figured out they meant more than simple lust?

Or had she caught us at it in St. Tropez? Had she somehow caught us here in L.A?

I wanted to confront her, but Axel warned me not to. At the party, after our hushed discussion, he cornered me near the bar, and whispered that we weren't to speak to Estelle about any of our thoughts, ever.

"If she knows, she'll bring it up to me, and I'll tell you. So if you don't hear anything...assume we're safe."

Safe—I wasn't sure I'd ever comprehend the full extent of that word.