Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(62)
That whole story—what a doozy.
The moment they stepped out of his office together three months ago, it was clear that any past misunderstandings had been cleared up—or at least forgiven for the time being.
“Quinn Campbell!” said Harlan Pierce jovially, and I shook his hand with an air of joyful confusion.
“You don’t seem very surprised by this news, sir,” I couldn’t help saying.
He winked at me. “It’s hard to surprise a man who’s known you your entire life.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
From then on, Christian and his father were genuinely close. Once a month, they’ve been attending therapy sessions together. I can’t imagine having to do that with my own father, who has thoroughly enjoyed his life in a small town in Northern Michigan. The last time we argued was when I was in high school and going through a rebellious phase.
“Hello, lovebirds,” he calls now, striding across the lobby. He can’t wait to stand next to his son while he makes this announcement. It’s not likely to be the last of the press coverage about the strange story of Elijah and Christian Pierce, but at least it’s a relatively happy ending.
“Mr. Pierce,” I say, greeting him with a smile.
“Is this one all ready to go?” he asks me, putting an arm around Eli’s shoulders.
Eli shrugs him off good-naturedly. “I’m standing right here,” he jokes.
“He’s as ready as he’ll ever be,” I say, then take Eli’s arm and turn him toward me. I give him a once-over, making sure his outfit is in pristine condition, then straighten his tie.
I glance out the door. The press looks to be fully assembled, and it’s supposed to rain later this afternoon—they won’t stay long if we don’t give them something to pay attention to. “Let’s go entertain our guests.”
“As you wish,” Eli says, raising my hand to his lips and kissing it theatrically.
“My goodness,” I say, teasing. “Keep yourself under control. We are at work.”
Not long after that insanely hot kiss on camera brought down the wrath of HRM’s management upon my head, I got to build a press release announcing my new position at Pierce Industries as Vice President of Reputation Management. I forced Harlan to put me through the full interview process, even though he created the position for me.
I don’t feel guilty about any of it. I’m damn good at my job. I can’t help that I’m in love with the boss’s son, and that Pierce Industries can use a top-of-the-line public relations professional on their staff.
I lead the way out onto the sidewalk. The fall air is pleasant—not too hot, not too cold—and the cloud cover is easy on the eyes.
I step up to the podium with confidence and wait for the chatter among the reporters to stop.
“Thanks for being here, everybody,” I say, scanning the crowd. “Harlan and Elijah Pierce of Pierce Industries.”
Then I step back, ceding the podium.
The two men step up in front of it together, Harlan slightly to one side, and Eli takes a folded piece of paper from his pocket and smooths it against the polished mahogany surface of the podium. “Hello, everyone,” he says with a half smile that has me wet in an instant.
A shiver of pleasure goes through me when I think of what we’re going to do in bed later…
Snap out of it, Quinn. You’re on camera!
Eli is halfway through his statement. “—pleased to announce that I have been cleared of all wrongdoing. I thank you all for your support during this difficult time, and I look forward to sharing the future success of Pierce Industries with you.”
Unsurprisingly, there are no questions. Almost to a one, everyone gathered in front of the podium waits to see if Eli is going to announce anything groundbreaking. This is not nearly as exciting as his last press conference.
Harlan and Eli exchange a look, and then Harlan steps off to the side.
I’m instantly on edge. This isn’t the plan. Harlan was supposed to make a short statement in support of his son, and then take a few questions. What is he doing?
Eli pulls another piece of paper from his breast pocket, unfolds it, scans it for a moment, and tucks it into the podium. Then he turns and gestures for me to come forward.
I arrive at the podium just as he steps to the opposed side, in plain view of the reporters.
“Eli—what—”
“Quinn Campbell,” he says, his voice clear as a bell. The three anchors who have assembled each thrust their microphones another inch closer to us, desperate to pick up every word. “There’s so much I want to say to you that I can’t possibly fit it all in during this press conference.”
What is he doing?
“I loved you almost from the moment I saw you,” he continues, and it dawns on me.
This is a proposal.
Oh, my god.
My heart soars.
“I never want to spend another day without you by my side.” Eli gets down on one knee and pulls a small velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a diamond set in a ring of sapphires. It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen, and perfectly unconventional. “Will you give me the chance to spend the rest of my life telling you, every day, how much I love you?”
A happy tear spills out of the corner of my eye, and with a trembling hand I wipe it away.