Page 16 of Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire

"I’m standing here." She sounds annoyed. "You can ask me again if I work for you. You’ve only met me like—"

"Don’t tell me I’ve met you a billion times." I cut her off and smirk as I give her a once-over. "I’m not even sure I’ve met my parents a billion times."

"You were in my office this afternoon." She’s squinting now, and I wonder if I need to implement drug tests at work. I take a step closer to her and breathe in a dainty rose scent. Her face is glistening with a glow of perspiration, probably from dancing on the table, and her cleavage looks like it’s ready to pop out of her top. Her dark hair is tousled and frames her face in a wild way, and I know this is a woman I would not have forgotten meeting.

"I was?" I cock my head to the side. I have never seen this lady before in my life. I would put a hundred dollars on it. "And don’t you mean my office? I do own the building."

"I know you own the building. I know you’re the CEO. You’re the big bad wolf of Rosser International. Who doesn’t know you?" She’s definitely pissed, and I’m not sure why. What have I done to this woman? She’s acting like I slept with her and left her without saying goodbye or something. Had I slept with her in a past life and not remembered? I stare at her face carefully to see if I recognize her. She’s very pretty with big, well, sometimes big, violet-blue eyes. Her hair is a long dark brown and cascades in waves down her shoulders. She’s wearing a bright red top with a very low V. She’s generously proportioned, and my eyes take in her heaving bosoms. I know I shouldn’t stare, but she’s obviously cold or not wearing a bra because her nipples look hard under the tight material. I ignore the sudden hardening in my pants. Surely, I would have noticed this lady if she worked for me?

"Are you going to offer me an autograph or something? I bet you want to because your head is so big." My lips twitch as she continues to berate me. She sounds angry. Like I’ve done something to her. This is a woman who is not impressed by a newspaper article calling me eligible. She certainly is not trying to get on my good side.

"Are you mad at me for something, Ms.…" I wait for her to supply her full name.

"Sarah." She presses her lips together and then squeals as the muscular guy that lifted her off the table slaps her ass. I wonder if that’s her boyfriend. I frown as she moves away from him and glares. Maybe he’s not her boyfriend.

"Don’t be so modest, Sarah." The bulky guy slides his arm around her waist. "Gentlemen, this is Slutty Stripper Sarah, the hottest stripper in Manhattan." He stares down at her cleavage rather obviously and licks his lips. "How much for a motorboat, Slutty?"

"Don’t call me that," she gasps, and I understand why. What woman would want to be called slutty?

"Five hundred?" he offers, and I watch as he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. The man is not seriously going to offer her money to motorboat in front of her boss. Granted, I had no idea who she was, but it seemed inappropriate, and I could tell she was offended. This was definitely not her man.

"Sarah, you okay?" I step toward the man and block his view from Sarah. I position myself in a guarding position and stare down at her. "What’s your last name?"

"Kahan." She seems reluctant to tell me.

"That’s it!" Jackson exclaims. "I knew you were from copywriting. I’ve memorized every employee’s name in every department."

"I am." She looks surprised as she stares at him. "You remember that well?"

"I also never forget a pretty face." He’s flirting now.

"Jackson!" I chastise him. He knows the fraternization policy at the company.

"What?" He grins. "Everything okay here, Sarah?"

"She’s good. I’m here," a blonde girl interrupts and steps forward. "I’m Sarah’s best friend, Isabel. Well, I’m Ella’s best friend, as well, but we’re all really close." She hiccups. "Oops, silly tequila."

I frown as she continues hiccupping. I really hope she doesn’t say she works for me, as well. I’d have to speak to HR about their hiring policies. I don’t want the company full of drunk women, no matter how pretty they are. I can’t stop looking back at Sarah. She’s staring at Isabel and blushing again. The bright red hue is cute on her face. She’s playing with her hair now, and I wonder if it’s because she’s nervous. I don’t think it’s a bit to try to turn me on. For some reason, I’m captivated by her. What’s her deal? And why was she dancing on the table?

"Dude, you’re interrupting a business deal," Bulky guy starts up again and tries to brush past me.

"Let it go." I stare him down. "Step back and have a seat. Your time with Sarah is done."

"Fine." He shrugs. "Not like I can’t go to the titty bar later anyway. Dime a dozen." He moves away, and I turn back to Sarah.

"So, what’s the deal here?" I ask her, frowning.

"We’re leaving now." Sarah grabs her friend Isabel’s hand. "Nice seeing you both. I’m sure you have other women you want to talk to. Women you will remember in the morning."

"You don’t think I would remember you?" I ask her, not wanting her to leave just yet.

"I don’t really care if you do or don’t." She shrugs and moves to the right but trips over something and rubs her eyes. "It would be the first time that you did," she blurts out, and I frown.

"Have we dated?" I ask her bluntly. She’s acting like we’ve fucked and I never called her again. "Have I been inside of you and didn’t know it?"

"No." She blushes and shakes her head vehemently. "Of course not."

She’s so taken aback by my question that I can’t help but laugh at her reaction. She’s acting like that would never happen. Like she would never be interested in me. Which is frankly hard to believe because I’ve never met a woman who wasn’t interested in me.

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