“We do need an answer soon. Let’s see if I can’t convince you, but for now, I have another phone call to make. I’ll be in touch soon,” he says and ends the call, confusing the hell out of me.

I stare at my phone and shake my head. Damn men who think they can click their fingers and make women come running. I’m fairly sure I won’t be taking his job now.

A knock on the front door distracts me from thinking about Diesel. A couple of moments later, I open the door to discover a guy holding a huge bunch of red roses.

“You Presley Hart?” he barks out his question.

“Yes.” I’m wondering how he got through the security downstairs but at the same time am distracted by the gorgeous roses.

He shoves the flowers at me and says, “Here you go,” before turning and jogging down the hallway to the lift.

I ignore his rudeness and smile as I look down at the flowers. Jett’s scoring points today with his coffee, croissants and now the flowers. However, my happiness is short-lived. When I open the card to read it, I’m disappointed to discover the flowers are actually from Lennon.

“Baby, please forgive me. I was wrong about everything and I want us back where we belong – together.”

This day is slowly turning to shit. I don’t need another smooth-talker to harass me into taking on a job I don’t think I want, and I sure as hell don’t need Lennon messing with my thoughts. I’d just gotten to a place where I was okay with our marriage ending. Hell, I was at a place where I’d finally admitted to myself that he was so wrong for me. And that was a hard place to get to because I’d loved Lennon with my heart and soul and everything else from almost the moment I met him. I wanted the works with him and he broke me when he didn’t love me the same way.

Damn it, I’m not looking back!

My life doesn’t include him anymore and I won’t even entertain the thought. I dump the flowers in the bin and text him.

Me: DO NOT send me flowers anymore. We’re done. And you’re wrong . . . we don’t belong together and never did.

Once I’ve sent the text, I switch my phone to silent and crawl back onto the couch to continue watching TV. Hopefully, the hot guys on Nashville can distract me all bloody day.

* * *

“Do you like it?”

I smile at Jett and then look back down at the beautiful silver bracelet he gave me on the way to dinner. “I love it, but you didn’t have to get me anything.” The bracelet looks expensive and knowing Jett, I bet it cost a fortune.

“I wanted to. Hell, the lady at the store was beside herself because I had twenty pieces of jewellery lined up ready to buy for you.” He jerks his chin at Hunter and says, “You can blame him for only getting one thing. He said you’d have a fit if I gave you all that.”

Oh God. I look at Hunter and express my gratitude, because, seriously, if Jett had turned up with all that jewellery for me, I may have lost my cool. “Thank you, Hunter. It sounds like you know how to woo a woman.”

Jett rolls his eyes as Hunter laughs and says, “The guy has no idea, Presley. I’m sure he’ll go back on his own and get everything else tomorrow, so be prepared for that.”

I turn my head quickly to capture Jett’s attention. “Don’t you dare! I won’t be accepting anymore jewellery this week, okay?”

He shrugs and reaches for the drink in front of him. “No more jewellery. I got it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t find something else to buy you.”

“Oh my God, Jett, no!”

His laughter caresses me and once he’s finished his drink, he leans his body closer to mine, his arm across the back of my chair, and murmurs, “I hear you, baby. One present a week, yeah?”

I turn to him. “Seriously, I just want your time and attention. I don’t need gifts.”

The smile that lights up his face is magnificent.

It’s dazzling, and I’m almost blinded.

Jett’s a master hypnotist and he has me under his spell.

“You’ve got my attention,” he promises before kissing me and pulling me even deeper into his trance.

“Hey! You two wanna get a fucking room?” Van yells across the table at us.

I try to pull away from Jett, but he refuses to end our kiss straight away. Instead, he slowly finishes what he’s doing and reluctantly lets me go before scowling at Van and throwing back, “If I want to kiss my woman, I’ll fucking kiss her. You got a problem with that, you can leave, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of them face off silently until Tom wades into the conversation. “Jesus Christ, can you two let up for at least a couple of hours so we can all enjoy our dinner? Your arguing is getting tiresome.”

“Hear, fucking hear!” West toasts his drink to that suggestion and downs half of it in one go.

“So, did you guys have a productive day in the studio today?” I ask the only question that comes to mind at this point. Anything to try and change the subject.

West gives me a look of relief. “Yeah, we did, actually. I think we might have our first song for the album. Tomorrow, we’ll record it and see how it sounds.”

“That’s great.” My enthusiasm is a little waning because I’m watching Jett and he doesn’t look as impressed as the rest of the guys about this.

Still frowning, he interjects, “We might have a song, but I’m not convinced it’s the right song.”