Page 15 of Baby for My Billionaire Rival

“I refuse to accept this assignment,” I hear a voice say firmly from inside.

It’s Caroline. At least we’re on the same page about something.

“Now, Caroline, I think you’re underestimating yourself,” Fig replies in her droll tone.

“This has nothing to do with underestimating myself. Jake Simmons and I would never be in the same room together if we could help it.”

“I know. You two bring a lot of tension to the lecture hall.”

I can’t just stand here and listen in on a conversation about me.I’ll come back later.Who knows? Maybe Caroline will handle it all on her own. She’s more than capable. I turn around and head a few steps down the hall, but a tug in my gut makes me stop.

Just face it, Jake, it’s not going to go away.

God, I want to fight my own subconscious! Which is it? Stay or go!

The pull doesn’t go away. I sigh heavily.Fine. I’ll do it. I stand up straight, roll my shoulders back, and head back in the direction of Fig’s door.

“…impossible! You’re making it impossible on purpose!”

“You take me for much more of an evil mastermind than I am, Caroline,” Fig says. I can practically hear the grin on her face. I bet that’s pissing Caroline the fuck off.

I knock on the door.

“I thought I closed that,” Caroline murmurs.

“We’re busy!” Fig calls out.

I swallow.Do it. “It’s Jake Simmons.”

“Now, that’s what I call timing! Come on in, Simmons!” Fig cries out.

When I push the door open, it’s apparent that my appearance is not welcome to Caroline. She’s put her hand over her face, trying to hide the flush on her cheeks.

“We were just talking about you,” Fig says, leaning back on her desk, feet where the keyboard should be.

“Yeah, I kinda heard,” I say.

“Howmuchdid you hear?” Caroline asks, taking a determined step toward me.

Her passion makes me back up a little. “Easy there, missy.”

“Don’t youmissyme.How much did you hear?”

She has me pressed up against the door with her angry little glare.

“Easy, Gladstone,” Fig says, although she seems rather relaxed considering the situation.

“I heard enough,” I reply.

“Enough to what?!”

“Enough to know that we’re on the same page, now, Lord have mercy, won’t you back upplease, Miss Caroline Gladstone?” I say, gently touching her shoulders and pushing her ever so slightly that she couldn’t construe it as an act of aggression.

Fig stands. “Gladstone. Here.” She snaps and points to a chair. “And Simmons –” she does the same to me. “Here, please.”

Caroline and I take our respective seats. The chairs are far too close together and the room is far too small. I can practically smell her and she smells – well, she smells nice. Like a nice department store perfume. Not the kind you walk through that feels like toxic fumes in your lungs.

But that’s not the point, is it? We don’t get along, no way, no how.

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