Page 19 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“Never heard of them.”

“I need to speak with Jem.”

“She’s out,” she rebuts quickly.

I know I heard two voices when I walked in.

“Are—” My question dies on my lips when the brunette walks out holding papers and talking. Jemima stops walking the moment her gaze settles on me.

“Hi.” I wink like the smartass I am.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“We need to talk.”

“I’m busy.” She holds up her papers.

“I bet.” She’s probably digging through everything to find a pot of gold. But this isn’tThe Wizard of Ozand I’m no Tin Man.

I’m known as the determined one, yet with this honey-eyed woman, I seem to be a little weak, especially when she wears an outfit like this. My gaze trails from her black pumps, up her longlegs covered in a black suit, stopping at the lace trimming her top. Drinking in her exposed neck, then her pink pouty lips, my eyes land on her hard glare.

“Is delivering flowers a lucrative side gig?” she says, teeth catching her lip as her brow furrows.

I chuckle. “No. They're for you.”

“Why?”

“Don’t women usually say thank you?” I grip the stems harder.

“I don’t.”

I laugh. I knew I should’ve picked up a thorny bush. It would’ve been helpful if Jeremy told me what to say to her because I have no idea what to do next, and I don’t want to fuck up this moment.

“I know. But still, take them and put them somewhere.”

“You mean a vase.”

I don’t care if she leaves them with her assistant, who is currently bouncing her eyes between us. I bet she’s enjoying the show.

“Can we talk in your office?” I ask, holding the flowers out to her. She hesitates before grabbing the bouquet from me, spinning on her heel, and storming into her office. She doesn’t sniff them or admire them. Following her, I watch as she pulls a vase, fills it with water, unwraps the flowers, and sets the stems into the water. She leaves them there without another glance. But before I take a seat, I grab them and place them on her desk.

She frowns. “Why did you do that?”

“You look like you need them to brighten your day.”

“What would brighten my day, Mr. Lincoln, is if you’d leave me alone.”

I smirk. “You know I can’t do that.”

She rolls her eyes and folds her arms over her chest. “You can.”

I pull out the chair and take a seat, easing back into the worn leather.

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” I bite back a grin.

She huffs and mumbles under her breath. It’s cute how flushed her cheeks are. I get under her skin. Well, she’s not the only one; she gets under my skin too.

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