Page 43 of Billion Dollar Dispute

She hesitates, then half-smiles. “You always try to play it cool, but I know what you’re up to, Mr. Lincoln.”

“Do you?” I smirk. “Well, then you’d know I was going to ask if you wanted to step out for lunch today instead of being cooped up in the break room.”

Her brow furrows at my suggestion, but there’s no anger in her eyes. “What’s wrong with the break room?” she asks, but the softening of her stance gives me hope.

“Nothing, if fluorescent lights and no fresh air are your thing,” I reply with a grin.

She exhales, looking around, like she’s deciding whether to make a sarcastic remark. But instead, she shakes her head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“You mean impossible to resist?” I smirk.

She laughs softly, and I swear I see her grip tighten on the files in her hands. “Keep dreaming, Lincoln. Meet you in the break room.” Spinning on her heels, she treks away.

I exhale a breath and wipe a hand over my face.

I finish up the final paper, file it, before rising, not bothering to do up my buttons, put my tie back on or roll down my sleeves. If anything, I undo an extra button, which is usually not my thing, but neither is a forty-two-year-old single mom.There’s just something about her…

So I stride out to drive Ms. Recaredo crazy. Or at least count how many times she checks me out. I can hear whispers from the break room, and as soon as I step inside, the girls stop talking, their eyes on me.

Chapter 13

Jemima

“Man, he’s hot,” Mollywhispers to me before taking a bite of her noodles. Not the cheap packet ones that I buy, but the yummy ones with thick, soft noodles and real pieces of meat and vegetables. I wish I could afford to buy the good stuff, but the weight of all our bills is weighing down on me.

I peer down at my basic sandwich, which has been my go-to for the last few weeks when I’ve needed to find something nutritious but also inexpensive.

His heavy footsteps come closer, I keep my eyes cast downward because I’m unable to look anywhere else but at that damn sculpted chest. As soon as he stood in the doorway, I could tell he had lost another button.

Did he do that on purpose?

I shake my head.Don’t be ridiculous.

We are opposites, and the biggest problem is, I don’t trust him.

His firm body, pine scent, and blue eyes that could lure me in, are all things that I don’t need to focus on.

“Where’s your lunch?” Molly asks.

It brings my gaze up; he’s pulling out a chair across from us.

Sitting at the basic white table, he answers, “I ordered it.”

“What’s your order,” Molly asks.

I take a big bite of my sandwich, pretending that I don’t care about his answer when, really, I want to live vicariously through him.

“It’s actually pre-made meals from my friend's company. I’ve ordered a week's worth.”

“So you can’t cook?” I ask.

“Of course I can. I can even bake,” he replies with a cocky grin.

Molly gasps, but it’s almost a moan. I hit her leg under the table.

Is she serious?

“And what do you bake?” I ask, wanting to catch him in his lie, even though I’m imagining him in an apron with nothing underneath.

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