Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales #1)(31)



He sighed. “So you keep saying. And as I keep saying, you’ll do fine. Did you use my card to get your outfit?”

“Yes. But—”

He rubbed his jaw. “It’s red, right?”

“Yes.”

A quick nod of his head. “I’ll wear my red bowtie.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” She stood and tossed her glasses on the desk. “I’ll make a fool out of myself, and you, and you’ll regret ever asking—”

He held a hand up, his jaw flexing. “You can stop that sentence right now, because I already told you I don’t regret a damn thing. Go home. Start getting ready.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“And you’re procrastinating by trying to pick a fight.” He straightened her computer, and folded her reading glasses on top of it. He hated when things were out of order—she’d learned that about him, too. “It won’t work, because you’re too adorable to annoy me.”

She smiled for the first time that day. She couldn’t help it. “Benji.”

“Not even that annoying nickname will work tonight.” Lowering his head, he straightened her pens in color-coded order.

Licking her lips, she watched as his long fingers moved over her stuff. Her breath quickened, and her pulse sped up. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

He snorted. “The hell I can’t.”

Not answering, she stared at those fingers with a thirst that wouldn’t be quenched, and more than anything, she wanted them on her—not her pens. The more time she spent with him, the stronger the thirst became.

“Now go—” When he lifted his head again, he froze. “Stop looking at me like that.”

She tilted her head. “Like what?”

He leaned in even closer, and her heart picked up even more speed. His eyes sparked, igniting a primal urge inside of her, and he whispered for her ears only, “Like you want to get me naked, and once and for all stop this ‘just friends’ bullshit we’re both suffering through.”

She grasped the edge of her desk so hard it hurt. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you are. I—” He glanced over his shoulder and stiffened, because everyone was watching them. Big shocker there. “Just go home and get ready. I’ll pick you up in two hours, and you’ll look gorgeous.”

“But—”

He pointed to the door. “Go.”

“Fine.” Frowning, she picked up her jacket and purse, her legs trembling. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He didn’t reply, just scowled at her like the beast that people assumed he was. She huffed one last time and left, his stare burning into her back. As soon as she was in the elevator, she pulled out her phone. On my way home.

Becca texted back quickly. I just left the office, too, and picked up some new makeup with that card. Meet you there.

How was work?

Again, her phone buzzed with Becca’s response. Boring. Some * wasn’t sure what he wanted for his campaign, and I spent hours discussing the merits of billboard advertising versus online.

Maggie winced. Sounds fun.

Oh yeah. So much. The little bubble with three dots appeared. I can’t wait to go out with Patrick later. I need a distraction.

Still seeing him?

For now. I’m not bored yet. Still avoiding admitting you want your billionaire?

The elevator doors opened. Yep. Okay, I have to go. See you there.

By the time she actually got to their apartment twenty minutes later, Becca waited for her outside their door. She had a brown bag in one hand, and a makeup kit in the other. Her long red hair blew in the breeze. When she saw Maggie, she straightened and held up the hand with the brown bag. “I brought vodka to go with the makeup.”

“Good. I need it. Why are you outside? You live here, too.”

“I was enjoying the sun. It’s been a while since we had a nice day, and after being in the office all day…” Becca shrugged. “It felt good.”

She looked up at the blue sky. The sun shone through the skyscrapers and clouds, right onto them. “It is really nice out.”

“Yeah.” Her best friend pushed off the wall and unlocked the door. “And you were too busy panicking to notice. Why are you so nervous, anyway? It’s just a stupid party.”

“It’s not just a party. It’s the first test—we have to sell this whole thing tonight.”

Becca shrugged. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like they’ll be giving you a lie detector to see if your relationship is legit. All you have to do is drink free booze, hold his hand, and act like you’re in love with a guy you haven’t stopped blabbering on about all week long. It shouldn’t be too much of a stretch.”

“No, it’s not, and that’s exactly why I don’t want to go.”

Becca blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Benjamin and I are only friends, and I really need it to stay that way, no matter what my stupid ovaries want. But we haven’t even kissed in four days—which is why I need the drink,” she said, snatching the bottle from her friend’s hand and heading into the kitchen. “Because, God, I want him, Becca. I want him bad.”

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