Page 63 of Return on Love

She hands me the glass and makes her way to the other side of the table. I have to do something. There’s only one thing I can think of.

I stand up with a jerk and drop the glass right on her blazer.

“Oh, no! What’s wrong with me today? I’m so sorry, Priscilla. Come, I’ll help you clean it up in the washroom.” I hold her hand and almost drag her out.

“It’s okay,” she says. I have a spare blazer in my car, and I’m just about to leave, anyway.”

“No. No. I can’t let you go like this.” The washroom is nearby. I take out a bunch of tissues and start rubbing her blazer. I know it sounds foolish. Trust me when I say that it felt even more dumb than it sounds. But I’m no spy. I can’t think of smart things on my feet when a mission goes wrong.

My phone pings. “Copied.” Message from Ryan.

I look at Priscilla. “I’m really sorry. It’s still wet. You can probably just change into the spare one you have. You were right. That’s definitely the better idea.”

She shakes her head. “Wow. And people say you’re smart,” she says, flicking her hair and stomping out of the room.

I follow her back. At the door, she turns around to look at me. “Anything else?”

“I think I left my purse in your office,” I say, and walk past her. She bends down to pick up the fallen glass and I remove the flash drive. “It’s not here. Maybe it’s on my desk,” I say apologetically and walk away, back toward the meeting room, my veins throbbing with fear and adrenalin and everything else that’s there to throb. Ryan is waiting for me. He looks at me and smiles. “You did it! What happened? You’re so white.”

“Don’t even ask,” I say and then tell him everything. By the end, he’s laughing his heart out. Seeing him laugh brings a tiny smile to my face as well. “It’s actually funny in hindsight, but I tell you, it was weird and embarrassing out there.”

He hugs me tight, and I rest my head on his shoulder. I hope no one’s in the office to see this, but I don’t feel like stepping away. Not immediately, at least. “Let’s take this home, shall we?” he asks. “Or would you rather take this to my hotel?”

What the hell. We’ve done it last weekend. One more time won’t change a damn thing. I know it’s just an excuse, but my hormones are doing the thinking instead of my brain.

“Hotel, definitely,” I say, remembering my hard, uncomfortable bed. “But first, I have to call Alex’s colleague, Mark, about CashCross.”

I dial the number. Thankfully, he picks up on the second ring.

“Eva, right?” he says.

“Yeah. Thanks for speaking to me. I know it’s Friday and I won’t take too much time. My firm is considering investing in CashCross. Alex told me you worked on the deal when they came for debt funding and rejected them? Could you let me know your reasons?”

“Look, I’m telling you because you’re Alex’s sister. But you can’t quote me for any of this.”

“Of course, I understand.”

“They came to us a few months ago for debt funding. But they already had an insane amount of debt, so they didn’t qualify for our parameters of safe funding. That was that. They didn’t even make it beyond the first level of analysis. In fact, I’m amazed your firm is considering them for equity funding.”

“They have some new clients now. Maybe they’ve paid off their debt.”

“Nothing’s impossible. I mean, I haven’t seen their latest financials, but I doubt it. If I’d be you, I’d watch my back with them. The founder of CashCross came to meet me and told me they could structure their finances differently, if that’s what it’ll take. I hope you get what I mean. Just check everything multiple times.”

“This has been super helpful. I’ll cross check everything again. Have a good weekend and thanks a lot for your time.”

“Not a problem. Anything for Alex. He’s had my back multiple times. This is the least I can do for him.”

I disconnect the phone and look at Ryan. “I’ve copied the CashCross financials from Weber’s system already,” he says with a wink. “You want to study them now?”

“I can do it tomorrow. Nothing’s happening between now and then.”

“Thank God. C’mon, taxi’s waiting downstairs.”

We take the taxi back to the hotel, which can’t come fast enough, and we’re already all over each other by the time we shut the door behind us. Our blazers are lying on the floor right by the door.

With our mouths almost fused together, I open his tie and spin it off, then begin to work on his shirt buttons. His nimble fingers have already unbuttoned mine. Finally I reach the last button and pull back for a moment to remove the garment that’s been hiding that perfect chest. I kiss his neck, then move down to his chest and then further down. I work the fly of his pants and he stumbles down on the bed as I go down on him.

His eyes go wide. “You don’t need to do it,” he says, softly and then he grunts as I lick his hardness.

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