The Billionaire Bargain #1(13)
It was afternoon that same day, and for all that things seemed to be going well, they also seemed like they could fall apart any minute. I had a million people to call about rescheduling meetings, a million personal thank you e-mails to send to my allies in the conference room this morning, a million networking opportunities to sort through and decide which would best advance Devlin Media Corp’s agenda and mission.
Not to mention the fact that I still had to hire an assistant to do my old job, and until that time, guess who was doing my old job too? A very reliable but overworked trio I liked to call me, myself, and I.
Still, there was something so exhilarating about taking the bull by the horns. Win or lose, no one was going to say I hadn’t tried my hardest, and that felt damn good. It was a big fat‘take that!’ at Jacinda, at the snobby rich kids in college, at the whole damn universe, and it lit up my veins with fire and adrenaline.
“Hello, Lacey.”
I looked up, startled, and my breath caught in my throat. Grant was leaning against my doorway so sexily it should have been a crime warranting life imprisonment or maybe just some temporary imprisonment in fuzzy handcuffs (nope, I was definitely not picturing him in fuzzy handcuffs, or me) He must have changed outfits for the photo op, and damn, he looked good. A well-tailored black suit that hugged his shoulders and his arms, a slate grey tie that made his eyes look like a stormy sea with secrets and treasures lurking beneath.
Somehow he hadn’t found time during that wardrobe change to shave, because why shave when you can just look ruggedly handsome all the damn time?
I looked away quickly before he could see my reaction.“How were the kittens?” I asked.
“Furry.” I looked back at the tone of his voice; he made a face and picked a white hair off his cuff as if it might bite him.“And they shed. Quite a bit. I think it may have gotten into the weave of the fabric permanently.”
“I’m sure you have other suits you can wear.”
“Not here.” He began to unbutton his suit jacket leisurely, sliding it off his shoulders.“So many people are allergic to cat hair. It’d be inconsiderate to keep this on while I’m at work.”
“Uh, I guess.” My mouth had suddenly gone dry. My lips too. I licked them.
“So glad you agree.” He smirked, and began to undo the buttons of his burgundy dress shirt, revealing a hint of sun-kissed brown chest hair and then some more and then oh God.
“What are you doing?” I squeaked.
“Being considerate,” he drawled, shrugging off the shirt to join the jacket. His bare chest was muscular, glistening slightly with the sweat of having walked up the stairs to the office, oh God I was staring at my boss’ chest— “Oh I just suddenly remembered that I have to copy these things!” I blurted, grabbing at the closest stack of papers I could find, who knew what they even were, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except escaping before I embarrassed myself further.“Goodbye well I guess I’ll go do that in the copy room which is not here and you’re here so goodbye!”
I fled to the copy room, and assembled the papers on the adjacent counter with shaking hands. They were actually things that needed to be copied, thank God. Okay, a few minutes here to regroup and figure out what the hell was going on and stop imagining other things he could take off— “Why are you doing that? That’s not your job.”
Grant was leaning—yes, sexily again, dammit, he was becoming a repeat offender—against the doorway, looking genuinely curious about the answer.
Also looking sexy.
He really needed to stop doing that.
“Because I haven’t hired an assistant yet,” I said curtly, turning away and trying to ignore that fact that when he crossed his arms like he was doing right now, his biceps looked like he could rip logs in half.
“Isn’t that why we have interns?”
I made the mistake of looking back at him to answer. He was stretching. Oh Jesus Christ on a cupcake, he was stretching, and oh hells yes this lady would like tickets to the gun show— “These files are full of confidential information.”
I tried to say this in a tone of voice that I hoped conveyed professionalism and not, say,‘get out of those pants right now.’ Judging by the way he began to saunter towards me, I failed.
“Phones!” I squeaked.“I just remembered some important calls to our charity opportunities which you really wouldn’t want to distract me with so—”
I tried to duck past him out the doorway, but he blocked my exit easily. How was he this bad at social cues?
Lacey, you seem flustered.”
Well, no shit, Sherlock!
“Can’t you take a break for a bit?” He added.“You’ll feel much better after a bit of conversation and some food in your stomach. I’d bet all my stock options you haven’t even had lunch today.”
A granola bar, but he probably wouldn’t think that counted.“I’m busy!”
“Too busy to take care of yourself?”
“Why do you care?”
“Well, you’re the one who told me to take an interest.” He leaned forward, radiating concern, his face inches from mine, his bare chest close enough that I could have reached out and— “In the company, not me!” I whirled back to the copier, slapping the records down as quickly and professionally as I could, and hoped he didn’t see my fingers shaking as I keyed in the number of copies. Oh god, his full, pouty lips, so close to mine, looking so soft and kissable, I could have— His footsteps padded softly on the carpet behind me. His hands encircled my waist and I felt his breath on the back of my neck.“Tell me, Miss Newman—are all those rumors I hear true? About young and high-spirited ladies who take a little perch on this machine, and—”