Page 43 of The Billionaire's Beauty

I do my best to puff up and look threatening, but that’s tough to do when I’m so happy with the sudden change in my relationship with Bellamy that my feet barely touch the ground now. “You need to knock it off before I—”

One set of elevator doors chooses that exact moment to slide open, and there she is. My girl, wearing a pale green dress that looks as though it was cut specially for her curves. I freeze. Our gazes connect immediately. I’m aware of our avid audience in the form of my two jackass brothers, but I can no more stop my grin from exploding across my face than I can voluntarily elect to stop needing air to live. My only consolation? She seems just as happy to see me.

“You’d better pull it together, Griff,” Ryker says, sounding vaguely awed and alarmed as he follows my line of sight and whacks me in the belly with the back of his hand. “She’s going to take you out for the count if you’re not careful.”

Don’t I know it?

“You know what’s going to happen if you’re not careful?” I say, never taking my eyes off Bellamy as she walks to her desk and puts her things away. “I’m going to start in on you. Start talking shit about you and a certain pastry chef named Ella. How does that sound?”

“Now you’re just being nasty.”

We all head for the door, still laughing, until another set of elevator doors slides open and ejects Claire, whose sharp eagle eyes immediately register the way I’m grinning at Bellamy (and the way she’s once again looking at me as she slides into her chair) before I can whip my smile back into something neutral. I watch as Claire’s expression hardens into something that would turn Medusa to stone, my heart sinking.

“Uh-oh,” Damon says, taking the words out of my mouth. He’s seen Claire once or twice when she’s met me here at the office. “Isn’t that your little fuck buddy?”

“Yep,” I say grimly, picking up my pace and making a mental note to have a word with security downstairs to make sure this never happens again. “Excuse me, guys.”

It all unfolds like some twisted nightmare straight out of The Twilight Zone. Bellamy’s bewildered gaze swings between me and Claire. I see the exact moment the light of comprehension clicks on in her eyes, her smile fades and her face floods with color. To her credit, though, she keeps her professional façade firmly in place even if it is much chillier than it was a second ago.

Shit.

I spent enough time in her doghouse on Saturday night. I have no desire to return there, especially over some Claire bullshit.

“Morning, Bellamy,” I say, determined to tread lightly on this cracking ice beneath my feet.

“Boss,” she says pleasantly without making eye contact. “Looks like you have a visitor. Let me know if you need me to bump your nine-thirty meeting. I’m getting coffee.”

I watch her walk off, my heart sinking even further when I see the rigidity in her spine, then turn to Claire with murder in my heart.

“I could’ve sworn I said I don’t have time to see you today,” I tell her.

“Really?” Claire says. “Her? I’m disappointed in you, Griffin. I thought you’d be more original than doing your assistant.”

“You need to leave,” I say, barely able to get the words out through my gritted jaw.

“Honestly, Griff, it’s okay,” she says, edging closer and giving me her sultriest look. “We’re both free agents. I’m an adult. I don’t care who else you fuck. But don’t cancel on me. I’ve been looking forward to Friday for weeks.”

Well, there it is. Music to any man’s ears. Claire is a gorgeous blonde with big blue eyes, a smoking-hot body and stellar skills in bed. As recently as a couple of weeks ago, I would’ve taken her up on her offer without giving it a second thought. But now all I can think about is getting rid of her so I can make sure Bellamy and I are still on track. And when Claire walks out of here, I won’t give her a second thought. Just like I haven’t thought twice about any of the other women I’ve been with. A distant part of me wonders if I’d ever be able to dismiss Bellamy from my life this easily, then doubles up and busts a gut laughing.

“Sorry,” I tell Claire, making a mental note to block her on my phone as soon as she leaves. “It’s over. And I need to get back to work.”

I don’t know Claire that well, but you don’t have to be a genius to recognize the emotions that quickly scroll across her face. Hurt. Anger. Spite.

Lobbing a final scathing look at the dead center of my forehead, she pivots and strides off without a word. I manage half a sigh of relief and gratitude that nothing worse has happened when Bellamy emerges from the kitchen with her coffee. It’s just my bad luck that Claire sees her and veers in her direction, making a slight detour on her way to the elevator.

“Enjoy him while you can, sweetie,” she tells a startled Bellamy. “Just don’t make the mistake of thinking he has more to offer you than a few good orgasms. He’s always got someone waiting in the wings to take your place. Take it from me. Have a great day.”

With that, Claire glides onto the elevator like the Wicked Witch of the West whizzing off on her broomstick. My last sight of her, hopefully forever, is when the doors close on her triumphant face.

Then she’s gone, leaving me to pick up the pieces with Bellamy as best I can.

“Listen…” I begin.

But Bellamy seems determined never to look me in the eye again.

“Don’t forget to get me your expenses this morning, boss,” she says, brushing by me on her way back to her desk. “And let me know what you want to do about your lunch reservation. Also, if I remember correctly, Claire really liked the gardenias last time. So let me know if I should send those again.”

Her aloofness and crisp tone push all my buttons in the worst possible way. Which is surely her goal.

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