Page 100 of Bidding War

I'm sure he'd love that. “A little over-caffeinated, but thanks for your concern.”

He strolls in, confident I'm not going to turn him away. It's annoying. “I understand Andre has had you on some big secret project.”

“I understand you're supposed to be working on your things before the end of the quarter.” I paused pointedly. “But you're here.”

He steeples his fingers. “Let me worry about me. I have everything under control. But I was curious to know something about you.”

I have nothing for him to be curious about. “Oh, you know what they say about curiosity. And the cat it killed.”

“What I would like to know is what your plans are for Saturday night.”

Could tell him I'm going to my boyfriend's parent’s house for supper. That way, he would know to leave me alone. But I want him to leave me alone because I want him to leave me alone. Not because I'm taken. “And why is that, Carlos?”

“You spend a lot of long hours in the office, don't you?”

“Don't we all?”

He grins. “I suppose that's true. That's why I should take you out tomorrow night. You need to relax. You work too hard.”

“And somehow going out with you tomorrow night would be relaxing?”

He lifts a shoulder and smirks. “I cannot promise relaxation. But I can promise a good time.”

“Thank you anyway, but I make my own good times.”

He runs his finger along the edge of my desk. “I know you take care of your boyfriend at home. An injured man. That is a lot of work. It is admirable.”

I didn't realize that the gossip mill had spread around this far during my absence. “If you know I have a boyfriend, then why did you ask me out?”

“I meant it only as colleagues. But I am flattered you think that I would ask you out.”

Whatever mind games he was trying to play, I refuse to play them with him. I can't tell if he is trying to get into my head before the presentation or if he's trying to feel better about me turning him down. It doesn't matter either way. I am done entertaining him. “Carlos, unless you have business with me, there's no reason for you to be in here right now. I am busy.”

“Alright, alright. No harm in asking if I can help you out, right?”

“Don't get lost on your way back to your office.”

“I know my way around here. Just like I know my way around a woman. If you ever get tired of playing nurse to your broken boyfriend, give me a call sometime. I'll be happy to loosen you up.” He saunters out of my office, and I just want to strangle him.

He is nowhere near pretty enough to be that fucking egotistical.

Checking my laptop, I see that I am running late. Shit. I pack everything in my bag that I'll need for the presentation and haul ass over to the executive side of the building. That side of Andre's office building is prettier than my office. On this end of the building, there are light wood floors and big open windows. It's a cacophony of brightness and a little too much for my eyes. It feels like being in a spotlight everywhere I go.

I hit the restroom, and it is just as nice as the rest of the place. The executive world really is different from everybody else's. Polished surfaces in every direction. Flattering lighting. The hand soap comes out of a warmer. There are mints in a basket. The paper towels are the softest I have ever felt.

Like they say, it's good to be the king.

Once I get out of the restroom, I head over to the boardroom waiting area. The waiting room has seating and a woman who orchestrates everybody going in and out of the boardroom. I would have thought she was somebody's executive assistant, except I've only ever seen her in this area. She wears a headset and presses her hand to it for a moment before telling me, “Two minutes.”

I give a brief smile and nod and try to suck in all the oxygen in the room because it feels like it's leaving my lungs as I step into the large wooden double doors. I've got this. I know I do. This isn't any different from any other work I've done. Except that it is. But I made all the connections that I needed to get the information that I wanted. I was able to pick apart the shareholders' agreements and find some holes in them. I can do this.

My phone chooses that exact moment to vibrate, and I almost drop it when I see who is on the caller ID.

Mitch Devlin. My father.

Why in the fuck is he calling me now? Maybe it's Mom. If something happened to her, someone might have called him. I have to take the call. But I really don't want to.

“Hello?”

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