Brandon's POV
I hated waiting.
Especially when the clock was ticking so loud in my head that every second felt like it might crush me. All I could feel was the steady thud of my heart against my chest, every beat louder than the last.
Seth sat in the makeup chair like a king being polished for his throne, chin lifted, eyes half-lidded as the artist dusted powder along his cheekbones. I'd been leaning against the wall for what felt like hours, trying to keep my cool, but my foot wouldn't stop tapping against the floor.
I thought he was done — finally. But before I could even breathe out the relief, Bob appeared, smooth as ever, sliding in with that wide grin of his. God I hated his gut.
"There you are," he said to Seth, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, I want you to meet some very important people in this company. It'll only take a moment."
My stomach sank. Of course.
