Black Ties and White Lies(38)

With my plate now clean, I wrap my fingers around the stem of my wine glass and take a large sip. I take a deep breath, knowing I need to bite the bullet and start a conversation I’ve been dreading all day.





She doesn’t have to say a word for me to know exactly what she wants to talk about. I’ve been expecting her to want to talk more about our conversation at the office. In fact, I’ve been eager to discuss the terrible terms she set for herself and this agreement.

I’ve always been someone who gets what they want. And what I want is Margo Moretti.

One taste of her was not enough. My appetite for her only grows stronger, nowhere near satiated by the brief encounter in the dressing room. There’s so much more I want to do with her—to her—and it all begins with her accepting the mutual attraction between us.

“Say whatever you’d like to say, Margo,” I clip. My hands cross in my lap as I wait for her to yet again piss me off and downplay the chemistry between us.

Margo shifts in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs nervously. She’d be terrible in the boardroom by the way every emotion can be seen on her face. Her eyes look to the city skyline behind me, like it can give her some magical answer.

“I’m going to be honest here, I hadn’t expected things between us to get so heated. Especially so fast. For there to be so much…tension.”

My finger runs up and down the stem of my wine glass as I process her words. Quirking my head, I process every emotion on her face. “You didn’t?” My tone comes off a bit incredulous as I remember that night at the beach. There’s no way she didn’t expect tension.

The slight narrow of her eyes at me tells me her mind is replaying the same exact memory as mine. She lets out an aggravated sigh. “No, I didn’t, Beck. You’re you and I’m me. Yes, I was going to be your assistant and yes we were going to pretend to be engaged, but I’d expected it to end there.”

“No one’s to blame for that but you. I thought I’d made my attraction to you pretty clear when I laid out my offer.”

She gulps down half of her glass of wine, and I’d given her a pretty generous pour. “You’re literally known to be this womanizing playboy billionaire, I thought that was just how you talk to women in general.”

“I find that often with the women you’re referring to that there isn’t much need for conversation.”

A small amount of white wine falls from her lips, landing on her thin tank top and creating a small wet stain. “Do you always just say what comes to your mind?” She wipes at the dribble of wine still left on her chin.

I shrug before taking a sip of my own. “Occasionally. Typically, the things running through my head are much worse.”

“I don’t even want to know.”

“Going back to your earlier statement, yes, I’ve never been one to beat around the bush with women. I haven’t had to. I came to you with an offer that benefited the both of us. It’s an added bonus that there’s clearly mutual attraction between us. I don’t see the point in fighting or denying it.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re known for being cold and calculating, some people also speculate if you even have a heart.”

“Have you been reading articles about me, Margo?”

Her eyes roll. “It's just an observation. People think you don’t form attachments outside of your company.”

“Well people don’t really know me. I prefer to keep it that way. I can form attachments just fine, I’m just picky about doing it. I don’t particularly see anything wrong with that. Shouldn’t we all be that way?”

“Okay, noted. Either way, I can’t say the same for myself. I know myself. After being hurt by Ca—my last boyfriend—I don’t want to go mistaking lust for something else. I like to feel wanted, I want to feel wanted, and I’m flattered someone like you could ever want me. However, I also know how easily it would be for me to misinterpret the relationship.”

I have to think carefully of what to say. A large part of me wants to point out that not all men are pieces of shit like my brother, but on the other hand, a large number of men are exactly like my brother. There’s definitely a line of women who could say harsh things about me if they wanted to. Not because I cheated, I’ve never been in an established relationship for that to happen, but many have faulted me for taking what I want from them and leaving them. I’ve always been up front. I’d never care about them the way they desired. But in the end, if I didn’t give them what they wanted—a relationship—then I was the bad guy. No matter how many warnings I could give.

“Are you just going to sit and brood and not tell me what you’re thinking?”

“You know, I find myself being more upfront with you more than anyone else,” I point out, meaning every word.

“I don’t believe you.”

I hold her eye contact, running my thumb over my lip. “Then I guess I need to do a better job of proving that to you then, don’t I?”

She looks stunned, clearly not expecting that to be my answer. I use her silence to my advantage. Leaning forward, I grab one of the legs of her barstool and drag it closer to me. Her hands find the armrests to help steady herself. I pull her closer until our knees bump against one another. “Here’s the deal, Margo. I’m attracted to you. I’d planned on going forward with our deal either way, but I’m going to be honest when I say the fact that there’s clearly chemistry between us is an added bonus. We both have needs, and while we agreed those needs won’t be taken care of by other people, it’s only logical we can use each other instead. But I’d never force myself on you, and I’m not going to beg for you to admit what I know is happening between us. So, if you say you don’t want to kiss me again or do far more fun things, then that’s your decision.” I give her one last tug, pulling her body so it sits between my knees. The inside of my thighs press against the outside of hers, her knees dangerously close to my cock.