Page 42 of Bringing Out Her Bad

I’ll let you go now, I know you’re busy.

Please tell the person who chose the new outfit that they did good. Your PA?

Oh ye of little faith. I chose it.

Lies

Seriously. I did.

And I’m taking over my events management duties, so I basically had to fire the whole team because I’m planning my own social life now.

You did NOT.

You’re right. Looking forward to holding your hair back later.

When I approach the sushi bar, I hear a wolf whistle. I spin around to see Becks waiting for me at the window. I laugh and stride towards her, enveloping my best friend in a huge hug.

“So glad we’re doing this!” I cheer.

“Me, too,” she says, face glowing, then looks me up and down. “Holy shit, woman, you clean up good!”

“I've always thought that phrase was more of an insult than a compliment,” I say primly. “Like, usually I look like shit, but not today.”

“Oh, shush,” Becks retorts. “You know you are drop-dead gorgeous every day.”

I deflect the compliment with ease. I’ve had loads of practice. “I can’t wait for sushi. Been thinking of it all day.”

“Me, too. I see you've brought your bodyguard." She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"That's Henderson,” I say. “He’s here to watch over us like a benevolent angel."

“What are you not telling me?" asks Becks, eyeing me suspiciously. “What kind of business does your sexy billionaire man actually do?"

“Good question,” I hedge.

Becks frowns at me. "You mean you haven't asked?"

"No. I mean, I probably wouldn't understand it, anyway."

"That's a strange way to look at it," she says. "I'm not sure that you realize how intelligent you are, Ives.”

"I'm not saying I'm dumb. I did well in school.”

“And you read a shit-ton of books.”

“I’m just saying that I'm not a corporate type. I'm not in business. When I hear business jargon like derivatives and financial yield, my eyes glaze over. I just don't find it interesting. And apart from that, we hate capitalism, right?

“I get it,” she concurs. “Greedy corporates are the enemy.”

“Exactly!”

“But I still think you need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

An ember of anxiety lodges in my throat. “Let’s get a drink. It’s on the sexy billionaire man.”

“So,” Becks drawls once we’ve been installed at a table with artisanal sake matcha cocktails. “Spill the tea.”

I shake my hair back. “What do you want to know?”

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