The Billionaire Boss Next Door(91)

“Using the same trick twice?” she tsks. “I would have expected more from you.”

The humor in her insult gives me just enough confidence to speak my truth, and to do it without caution or censoring.

“What are we talking about here? The mask or the song? Because I thought the mask was a necessary touch.”

“Yeah, I get the mask, Walt. I’m just surprised you have such a big crush on John Cusack.” She rolls her eyes. “Like, get a room already.”

“It was symbolic, just like in the movie. It’s the song that was playing the night we—”

She shushes me and puts a hand over my mouth. “I know what night it was.”

I smile a little, and for the first time, she seems to notice just how many people are watching us right now. I feel a little bad for doing this so publicly, but it was the only way. If I’d tried to confront her in private, she would have weaseled her way out, one way or another—even if it meant kicking me in the balls.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t rectify the situation now. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

“Other than here, in the fishbowl of human condition?”

I smirk and nod.

“Yes.”

“Then, yes. Make that happen quickly, and I’ll give you a bonus point toward your score on whatever argument you’re gearing up to make.”

I put a gentle hand to her back and lead her out of the crowd and toward one of the storage rooms. My mom winks at me from across the room, and I blush like I’m five years old.

Ideally, I’d be taking Greer somewhere more romantic than a closet full of shampoos and table linens, but with this being opening weekend, it’s about the only unoccupied ten square feet on the entirety of the property. And at this point, privacy is more important than show quality.

I step aside to let her in first and then follow her in and let the door click shut behind us. The silence is almost startling.

With a mind to that and how she must be feeling, I give her a minute to get her bearings. She looks at everything possible except me. And she doesn’t make eye contact with me even once. I’m actually impressed with the talent it must take to pull that off, seeing as I’m the net in the middle of her eyes’ game of ping-pong.

“Greer.”

“Hmm?” she asks, still taking inventory almost compulsively. I imagine this is the fifth time she’s counted the rows of shampoo on the shelf.

“Greer, look at me, please.”

When our eyes finally make contact, it’s like the spark her questions needed to explode all over the place and out of her mouth. I do my best to keep up—which, I guess, is all I ever really do with her anyway.

“How long have you known we kissed on New Year’s Eve?” she asks.

“Since shortly after you told me we were over.”

“How did you find out?”

“Cap and Quincy told me.”

“They knew?!” she shouts inside the small space, and I nearly laugh at the relief in hearing her so unfiltered, so Greer. It feels like it’s been an eternity since I’ve seen her. All of her. Like this.

“Yes. As did Emory. They set us up to live next door to each other.”

That answer stops the questions briefly, but only because I have to pin her to the door to keep her from tearing out of this place and committing triple homicide in the middle of the party.

“I know,” I console. “They’re assholes. But they’re our assholes, and without them, I never would have realized how perfect you are.”

She sags in my arms, closes her eyes, and lowers her voice to the barest hint of a whisper.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“I know you’re perfect. For me.”

“Even when I’m saying ‘motherfucker’ in public?”

“Even then.”

She loosens my hold with a squeeze of her own and lets her head fall back into the door. “Why? Why on earth do you find me attractive?”

“Because you are. You’re witty and funny and smart and beautiful. You have one of the best minds I’ve ever had the pleasure of exploring.”

“I’m sarcastic. And mouthy. And highly unprofessional fifty percent of the time.”

I shrug. “I guess I find all of that charming, then. Is that a problem?”

She laughs, just one sharp bark before shaking her head with a smile. “Yes. I think there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Only if you leave me here by myself. With you, it just means we go together better than ever.”

“Trent—”

“What? You said it would never work while we were working together, and we’re not. As of tonight, you are officially off the payroll.”

“And jobless,” she remarks sardonically.

I shake my head and lean in to press my lips to hers. She’s a smartass and she’s apathetic, but she can’t be either of those things to this.

Her eyes flutter closed as I run my tongue across her lips to open them, and then I touch the tip to hers.

When we pull away, there’s only one thing to say.

“There’s magic in the two of us. And we both know it.”

My voice is soft, but my words are loud. There’s no way she can’t hear what I’m saying.