The Billionaire Bargain #1(9)
I had just about evicted the roast duck from my throat, but that last sentence made me start to choke on it again.
“I was bored out of my skull last year,” Grant said bluntly. He took a bite of his own papaya salad without looking at her. He chewed slowly and thoughtfully, as if the taste and texture of his meal were a thousand times more interesting than anything any mere mortal could have to say to him.
Jenna paused for a moment, obviously thrown off her game by the existence of a universe in which she didn’t immediately get everything she asked for. She recovered quickly from this puzzling paradox, though, giving a little fake-laugh and backing off with the studied casual air of a cat who doesn’t want you to see that it didn’t land on its feet.“Oh, you kidder! No one can ever guess just what’s going to come out of that gorgeous mouth of yours, can they? Well, let me know if you do decide to join us!”
“I’ll think about it,” Grant said.“Perhaps if I can find company more…stimulating…than last year’s.”
Jenna’s face froze for a second, then with a visible effort she relaxed and gave Grant a smile so fake I was surprised that government inspectors didn’t sweep down on us and arrest her. Continuing to ignore my very existence, she swept away in the same blade-of-grass-being-lightly-tossed-by-the-breeze way she had come to us in the first place.
And I couldn’t help but notice that for all Grant’s declared lack of interest, his eyes followed her lightly swaying and bouncing figure all the way to the door.
So much for not finding her stimulating. Not that I blamed him.
I stabbed my fork at my noodles with the kind of avenging anger usually reserved for blood-feuding families in the Appalachians.
“What did those noodles ever do to you?” Grant said, that exasperating smile right back on his face like it had never left.“I haven’t seen such vicious stabbing since I watched a horror movie.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, and stabbed them harder.
Grant’s eyes darkened, stormy weather threatening in his gaze.“Don’t lie to me, Lacey. Don’t beat around the bush—you’ve been sitting there avoiding saying a word. You have opinions—well, share them. But don’t stew in your own resentment and act as though it’s my fault you don’t have the courage to speak up.”
That hit a nerve.
“This is why no one takes you seriously!” I snapped.“This is why the company’s in trouble! Today is supposed to be all about damage control, and you’re out eating and flirting with bimbos and accepting party invitations from your crazy ex that will just make things worse!”
He raised an eyebrow.“Did you hear me accept an invitation?”
That brought me up short.“W-well, no,” I stuttered.“But you implied—”
“I didn’t accept the invitation,” he said firmly.“I’ve certainly done some foolish things in the past, and you’re very welcome to bring them up for discussion, but don’t put things at my door that aren’t there.”
He set down his fork and squared his shoulders, looking directly at me like a man facing a firing squad. And after just now and last night, what else could he expect?
My face was burning; I was drowning in shame and regret.“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” he said lightly, and took a drink of water.“Of course, I did say that I could be persuaded to attend the gala if the right companion were to accompany me…”
I’d also taken the opportunity to take a drink of water, and at these words that water came spurting out of my mouth like Niagara Falls in righteous indignation at his about-face.“You don’t make sense! Don’t you care about this job at all?”
He handed me a napkin and dodged the question.“What about you, Lacey? What do you care about?”
I ignored the tingles racing through me at the way he lingered on my first name. When had he started doing that? Before today, he’d never even used my name. Whatever, this was all just a distraction; my heart was only racing because I was in an argument with my boss.
“I care about doing a good job. I care about following through on my promises, and the promises of the place I work for. I care about doing whatever little tiny things I can to make this world a better place, and even if they’re super tiny, they’re something and I can feel good about that.”
“An unusual attitude,” he said, signaling the waiter to refill the water glass that I’d turning into a Yellowstone geyser,“in this day and age. And particularly in this rather laissez-faire hamlet. Did you grow up around here?”
“I grew up in the Midwest,” I said impatiently,“land of so many damn lakes there was practically no land. I went to Stanford because they gave me some scholarships and some loans where the interest rate was a toe and finger instead of an arm and a leg. After I graduated I decided I wanted to stay in the state for the job opportunities.”
“Just the job opportunities?” He raised an eyebrow.“There weren’t any other…incentives?”
“Ha ha, you caught me,” I said sarcastically, ignoring his obvious implication. I wishthere had been some guy worth staying in this state for.“I really stayed for the high cost of living and the thriving avant-garde sushi scene. What does it matter?”