Billionaire With a Twist(26)

I eyed the cup, my brain torn between confusion, lust, and suspicion. Was he actually feeling this casual? He couldn’t be. I just wished I could think clearly, instead of fighting through the headache and the insistent urge to check out his abs.

“I think I’ll stick to coffee,” I said, my face flushing. I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Why did he always catch me at my worst?

“It’s your head,” he said with a shrug. He leaned closer, his eyes dancing. “Seems like your research methods have been a lot more fun for me than you, on the whole.”

R-rated images danced a tango through my head, and this time, it was my turn to make my excuses and flee.

#

Since I was, somehow, not fired, I took refuge under a willow outside the library, where I could look over my notes with no risk of the elements damaging the original texts safe back inside. There, hidden beneath its copious leaves, I managed to get some work done.

Until Hunter managed to track me down three hours later, and I forgot everything except how yummy he looked in a tight white t-shirt.

“I’ve got something to show you,” he said.

And it probably wasn’t his abs. I braced myself for the ‘it’s just not working out, I’m going to get someone new from your company’ speech…

But he pulled out his cell phone instead.

“You’re making a bad habit of taking calls while talking to me,” I said. Maybe reminding him of our night together wasn’t the smartest move, but what the hell, how much more trouble could I get in?

His lips quirked for a second before he passed me the phone. “I wanted to show you this.”

It was a text conversation from Chuck. At first I didn’t get it—Chuck was just talking about some kind of meeting. Then he mentioned something that was supposed to be in my purview. And then he mentioned a name.

Harry.

Chuck was at a meeting with the Douchebros, and they were going to try to steal my project away from me.

I looked up at Hunter, speechless.

He nodded grimly. “They’re trying to cut you out.”

Emotions warred in my chest. I was touched that Hunter was sharing this with me, but confused. He didn’t care about the ad campaign, he thought it was all worthless. And after last night, why would he care if Chuck brought in new blood? “Why would you show me this?”

“Because if Chuck thinks he can get away with this, he’ll cut me out next.” He looked away and kicked at the dirt, his face vaguely embarrassed. He muttered, “Besides, your idea is worth a hundred of theirs.”

That was probably less a measure of how much he liked my idea and more a measure of how much he hated theirs, but it still gave me a warm glow inside.

I stood, and met his gaze, letting him see my determination. “Well, then we just won’t let him get away with it.”

#

Hunter and I didn’t bust into the meeting so much as stroll in casually, but Chuck and the Douchebros still started guiltily in their seats like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Chuck recovered first, barely pausing to shoot an angry look at Hunter before going into full smarm mode: “Allison! I’m so glad Hunter decided you should join us. I’m sure you don’t mind that we’re exploring multiple options, do you? It’s so important to consider all perspectives, don’t you think?”

I gritted my teeth as I smiled, wishing he wasn’t so powerful within the Knox corporation, so I could tell him to his face what I thought of his patronizing crap. But he was powerful, and so I couldn’t give him an excuse to dismiss me.

“Of course,” I said. “Let’s hear those ideas. I’m all ears.”

Between my bitterness and my hangover, the forced smile on my face was actually starting to hurt, but if they wanted to bro it up, I was going to be right there with them.

Chuck smiled ingratiatingly. “Excellent. Let’s get to it, then. But it’s looking a little crowded in here, so why don’t we reconvene someplace a little more…comfortable? I know just the place.”

#

I pushed away the fried pound cake, the few bites I’d been able to take sitting heavy in my stomach. The Douchebros had pitched all during dinner, Hunter’s face unreadable, Chuck visibly excited, and it was worse than I’d thought: apparently they’d taken Hunter’s earlier critique to mean that their previous pitch hadn’t been sexually exploitative enough. They now wanted, among other things, to hire “Knox knockers,” professional strippers who’d visit college campuses and dance in showers of bourbon while free samples were given out. Gag me.

I’d spent most of dinner wanting to throw up, and it hadn’t helped when Chuck accidentally-on-purpose slipped his hand over my knee.

I may have accidentally-on-purpose stabbed him with a salad fork.

“Aw, Ally, you sacrificing your dessert for your diet?” Harry said. “Don’t worry, I like my women with a full figure.”

I smiled at him in a way that I hoped communicated that he shouldn’t feel safe just because he was out of stabbing range at the moment.

“Now, now,” Chuck admonished Harry. “Allison’s not like that. She’s one of the boys, isn’t she?”

He glanced slyly at all the Douchebros, and there was hastily suppressed sniggering all around the table. I flashed back to the whispered conversation I’d seen Chuck and Harry having when I came back from the bathroom. Those *s were planning something.