Page 36 of Drunk on You

Dad

Missed you at dinner tonight. Julian said you were sick as a dog. Do you need anything?

I’m lying in bed, and I sit upright in confusion. Dinner? Sick as a …

Oh, that sneaky bastard! He never said he was meeting my dad for dinner.

Me

I’m okay. I think it was something I ate.

Dad

Okay, good. We’re meeting tomorrow at 9:00. Ronan mentioned at dinner tonight that he’d like to do something different with our collaboration, and Julian and I agreed. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.

Oh my God! I shoot out of bed, ready to murder my fake damn fiancé. Here I thought the sprinklers were payback for me deflating his tires.

Me

WTF?! You went to dinner without me?

A response comes in seconds later.

Julian

I asked you to go. You said you’d rather starve.

Me

Game on, asshole.

Julian

Red, I think you’ve proven you’re playing a game you can’t win. Probably should surrender before you end up in the doghouse.

I’m going to kill him. No, that would be too easy. I’m going to get him back.

I pace the room, trying to calm my heart rate and think of how to go about it when the perfect idea comes to mind.

I’m going to hell for this.

Straight down, flames a-blazing.

But it’ll be worth it.

Julian wants to play dirty and insinuate that because I don’t have a dick between my legs, I can’t play with the guys. Well, he’s about to learn that this woman can play with the big boys—and I’ll come out on top. And by the time I’m done, he’ll be begging to be taken out of the game.

Yep, I’m going to hell for this.

But it’s going to be so worth it.

chapter fifteen

JULIAN

Last night was fun, but I have to admit, I feel a bit guilty about not being completely honest with Anastasia about the dinner. In my defense, she started this. When I had gone behind her back regarding my meeting with Ronan, it had been for the good of the company. I wasn’t trying to play games. But then she deflated all of my damn tires, and I had no choice but to sink to her level. The sprinklers were probably enough payback, and I planned to tell her about the dinner—figuring she’d be forced to quickly get ready or show up, looking like hell—but when she told me she’d rather starve than eat with me, my pettiness reared its ugly head.

After our meeting this morning, I’m going to talk to Anastasia and see if she’ll be willing to call it a truce. We both want the CEO position, but there’s no reason we have to act like teenagers to get it.

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