Page 25 of With This Mask

But the moment the elevator dings, we spring apart. And as we walk out the front doors, neither one of us look at the other as we exit going two different directions.

Alec Vanderholt is my dirty little secret. One I have no problem keeping to myself.

chapter ten

The fluorescent lights buzz above as I stand next to Alec in front of the classroom. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I blush. Because the way Alec looks at me? Surely everyone here can read all the dirty things he’s done to me right from my reddening skin.

But Alec just gives a nod, and plugs his laptop into the adaptor. Suddenly, our presentation appears on the projected screen.

“Today, Salem and I would like to present you all the opportunity to break into the medical industry,” he begins, oozing all that rich by charisma I hated him for. But, coming from his lips, everything sounds like a golden opportunity.

He clicks the slide. “At first glance, this plot of land doesn’t look like much. Greenery. Wet. Hot. We all know what Florida is like. Heaven or hell, right?” He smirks as he looks out at the audience.

Damn him and that charisma.

“What is the hidden, golden opportunity here, is what grows naturally in this area,” I say, taking my turn. Alec clicks the slides again, and it shows a certain berry. “In the form of something the health care industry is scrambling to get its greedy little pawns on.”

And Alec and I proceed to absolutely crush our presentation. We present the data. The research. The numbers. And it’s all factual. It’s all realistic.

And I get the sneaking suspicion Alec may have actually invested in the real deal plot of land we based our research on. That’s how good our pitch is. Alec Vanderholt bought into it himself.

We work seamlessly together, playing off each other's points, our combined knowledge filling the room. As much as I hate to admit it, we make one hell of a team. As much as we might have wanted to kill each other at the beginning of this thing, we work. Guess that’s what happens when you put the two smartest people in the room on the same team.

I can somewhat admit it to myself now. Alec Vanderholt is my only rival in the room.

When our presentation comes to an end, I'm so damn proud.

The class is able to cast a vote. We’ve all been given the same allotment of fake money to buy each other’s projects. You’re to choose wisely because you only have so much money.

Alec and I set our price high. The highest of all the projects.

And when it comes time to “sell” off our project, sixty percent of the class raises their hand.

“Fuck yeah,” Alec says under his breath, quiet enough only I can hear it.

A smile creeps onto my mouth.

"Excellent work, Ms. Winters and Mr. Vanderholt," Professor Harlow says, marking something down in his grade book. "One of the best presentations this semester."

He’s trying to humble us. It’s easily the best presentation. But Professor Harlow never was one to give praise.

But as we return to our seats, beneath the table, Alec bumps his fist to mine. We both know we just slaughtered the competition.

I unlock my dorm room door, thoughts of the presentation still rolling through my brain. I can imagine logging in and seeing our perfect marks now. But the sight that greets me in my room stops me dead in my tracks.

A stunning gown lies draped across my bed, shimmering in the dim light. My heart races as I step closer, my eyes fixed on the gown. It’s a deep shade of emerald green, with intricate beading and lace detailing all over.

It’s the most stunning piece I’ve ever seen.

And looks like it cost more than this semesters tuition.

I grab my phone and fire off a text to Alec, not bothering to hide my irritation.

What the fuck is this?

Your dress for the gala.

He replies almost instantly. The smug bastard probably knew exactly how I’d react.

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