_God damn it_
Jeremy sat in the back of the midnight-black Rolls-Royce with his eyes closed. His body was tense, his muscles flexed, and his fists were clenched. He wasn’t used to losing deals. In fact, Jeremy wasn’t used to losing, period. His countenance was daunting, with a strong jawline emanating confidence, piercing blue eyes that could eviscerate even the strongest of minds, and short, untameable strands of hair that always seemed perfectly styled. He was bedecked in a sharp, dark Armani suit that emphasized the formidable muscularity of his shoulders and waist. Even his black leather shoes glowed with an elegantly polished radiance. Jeremy’s simple presence was an object of envy, a fact he had always taken pride in.
But today, his tailored suit felt heavier than usual, and his hair felt limp on top of his head. This trip to New York had been a disaster. He clenched his jaw and beat a closed fist against the leather cushion beside him.
_God, if only that fucking asshole…_
Suddenly his phone rang, shattering his concentration. His first thought was that it was his wife, Olivia. She had a habit of calling him soon shortly before he returned from his business trips. But when he reached for his phone, he saw Andrea’s name flash across the screen.