Page 27 of Billion Dollar Mistake

He better be prepared this time. Because I’m already wired up.

“I had the pricing contract drafted,” he says, gesturing to the seat in front of his large glass desk. I sit as he continues speaking, “Take a look and let me know what you think.”

He slides the papers across the desk toward me. I reach over and swipe them. Leaning back, I carefully read them.

He’s trying to talk, but I’m focused on reading the details.

When I’m finished, I ask for the spec sheet. I want more details of the speculums in writing.

“Do you have an updated spec sheet? This has last year's date.” I ask, readjusting my suit jacket.

“Let me look.” He frowns, taking the paper from me and reading it for himself. “Seems you’re right.”

“You doubted me?” I say darkly.

“No. No. Our wrong. My accountant went on leave, and she did this just before she left. So, it must have slipped through. No biggie, right?”

I nod. Not happy, but I can’t be angry with someone I haven’t met or allowed to explain themselves.

“I’ll get it updated,” he says, picking up the receiver. My phone vibrates and I glance at my wrist. I moved my meeting with the local hospital to earlier today to allow plenty of time for tonight, so I’m not leaving until it’s done.

“Excuse me, Mr. Spencer. While you organize the update, I’ve got a quick call to make outside,” I say.

He glances at me as he still holds the phone to his ear but reclines in his chair. “I’ll get her to do it now and bring it up.”

I rise from my chair.

“See you soon,” I reply coolly, turning without another look and striding out to make the call.

The call is a quick one with Kirstie. We run through tomorrow’s agenda with the managers at our biggest NYC hospital with the goals and budgets for their departments. When I’m about to hang up, I turn, colliding with someone. “I am so sorry,” I say as her stuff falls from her hands and spills onto the floor. I immediately crouch down and pick up…her now broken red lipstick. Noting the name of it is called Brave. Her head is down as she scrambles to pick up the other loose items. The strong waft of rose perfume fills my nostrils and sends my heart racing. I rise to my feet and blink twice, simply staring at her bewildered.

It’s Nova.

Fuck.

She has makeup on today. When we talked over video, she didn’t have a scrap of it on her face.

Her hazel eyes are so bright and unusual because they have beautiful flecks of gold in them. And when her red lips move they emphasize her brilliant smile, and I think I stop breathing for a second. “It’s okay. It’s my fault too.”

My brain finally begins to work. “Your lipstick,” I gruff out, handing it over. Admiring her adorable suit ensemble, a navy jacket and skirt paired elegantly with a white blouse.

She takes it back from me, and electricity hums through my veins as she holds my eye contact firmly. “Thanks,” she whispers.

She’s affected by this, by me too.

I clear my throat. “Your, ah, lipstick is…” I point to around my lips, and she takes the small compact mirror I hadn't realized she was holding and raises it.

“Oh, God. I shouldn’t have been doing touch-ups in the damn elevator. How embarrassing,” she whispers, but I catch it.

She dabs at the skin around her full lips, and I’m utterly transfixed. I can’t seem to get my feet to move. I’m frozen. Watching her with fascination.

When she’s finished, she gives me a shy smile. Her cheeks are flushed, and at that moment, it hits me square in the face. Nova’s the new accountant working on this. He said “she,” so I was expecting a woman. But I didn't expect a beautiful woman. Fuck, I should’ve expected her. I should warn her. She shouldn’t be working with that sleazy prick. She seems too good for him.

“You’re here,” I blurt.

My mouth moves before my brain can think straight.

She looks around before giving me a wry smile. “Where am I supposed to be?”

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