Page 32 of Billionaire Boss's One Night Stand

“I heard about your meeting,” she commented.

I nodded and sighed, bracing for her commentary. I knew how much she wanted Gammon as a client. She felt she should’ve had them years ago, decades ago, but DuPont was a family friend or something of the senior Mr. Gammon who had retired and lived playing golf and drinking bourbon now.

“Quite a few SNAFUs, it sounds like.”

“There were,” I agreed.

“But I also heard that a new hire pulled it off and smoothed out the rough spots.”

“She did.” It didn’t kill me to be honest and praise Loren. She deserved every word of compliments. I just wished I could also be free and uninhibited enough to let loose and tell her what I thought of her as well.

It seemed like any move to be congenial would backfire. What if one kind word led to the dam bursting and we fucked again? My concentration—and hers—would be shot regardingthis project, and I had to stick with the idea that mind over desire had to rule.

“I looked over the presentation,” she said, not shocking me. All data files shared from my team were accessible on her end, just like all other projects were from other teams in the company.

She raised her brows, seeming amused. “It sure wasn’t like that whenyouwere born.”

“What do you mean?”

“All those gimmicks and gadgets. It’s so different. When I had your father…” She smirked. “A bottle and a rattle were plenty.”

I smiled, realizing she wasn’t commenting on the presentation of uncoordinated colors, fonts, and wonky word choices. She was remarking about the content, the Gammon baby products they wanted rebranded and marketed.

“Ah. I see what you mean.” I rubbed my hand over my hair, then dragged my palm over my jaw.Should’ve shaved.I hadn’t only because of the memory of Loren purring with pleasure at the feel of my face against hers, that she enjoyed the friction of my stubble.

Stop thinking about her for one damn minute!

“It, uh, does seem like a lot of things to need just to keep a baby alive.”

“Oh, not only alive, but meeting milestones and being intellectually entertained while not setting them up to be biased.”

I smiled, intrigued that her sarcastic opinions about some of the Gammon mission statement mumbo jumbo matched my thoughts. “Don’t forget the bit about making sure the next generation raises ‘doers, not followers’.”

She huffed. “How a baby bottle can guaranteethatis a mystery to me.” Shaking her head, she studied me. “Seems like a lot of foreign products to sell, doesn’t it?”

I didn’t hesitate to nod. “It’s definitely not my wheelhouse.”

“Baby stuff?” She nodded. “I agree. A bachelor like you wouldn’t know the difference between a pacifier and a teether.”

Arethose different? They suck on both of them, don’t they?

“Have you ever considered it?”

I chuckled. “What differentiates a pacifier from a teether? No.”

“No interest in settling down at all, Matthew?” She cocked her head to the side.

Where the hell is she going with this?While we weren’t best friends, she knew me. She knew me better than to wonder whether I was hit with some spontaneous need to start a family.

“No. You know my goals. I want to take over as CEO.” I smiled charmingly. “When you’re ready to retire, of course.”

“Of course.” She pursed her lips. “There’s no guarantee when that’ll happen, though. Working keeps my mind fresh. You wouldn’t want to have my brain rot and look around for a nursing home already, do you?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re notthatold, Grandmother.”

“And you’re not that young anymore, either. Perhaps I could hang on to my title so you can add in a side quest for a family.”

What. The. Hell?I arched one brow, stupefied that she was even talking about this. “Looking at baby products made you suddenly obsessed with having grandkids?”

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