Page 13 of Power Twist

I shake my head and pick up my pacing once again. “No, I don’t want that kind of responsibility. Hell, I’ve barely survived a month into the VP role.” My stomach twists with the simple reminder of all the shit I have on my plate. “That said, he still needs to go.”

“Can't have both,” Todd mutters and crosses his legs. My gaze falls to his crotch, and not in a good way. I never understood how men could sit like that. Doesn't it squish important man bits? Or maybe it’s that his bits are too small for him to notice the squishing.

“Not that I want to find out,” I say, pulling my attention from his lap to the large overstuffed bookshelf. Half are mine, and the other half I inherited with the office. I scan the rows and rows of hardbacks, a sense of comfort settling over me.

“What was that?” My loose dark hair swishes along my upper back as I shake my head, dismissing his question. It’s not like I was talking to him anyway. “Anyway, as I was saying before you got lost in your head”—whoops—“we're leaving for the G7 summit in two days. Are you prepared for the various meetings?”

“Yep,” I say, giving him two thumbs-up. No idea why I did that.

His eyes widen, and a hint of a smile pulls up the corners of his lips.

I like Todd. He's a nice guy, but that's where it stops. We've worked together side by side preparing for the upcoming summit for the past week, and he’s been the perfect gentleman. Which is great since he’s a hard no in my book. It's not that he's bad-looking, just not my kind of good-looking. His super-thin frame makes me think his pant size is smaller than mine, his delicate fingers have a slight tremble to them when he's nervous, and his petite nose and wide eyes are not what I find attractive.

What I do find attractive just walked into the office without knocking.

Damn, he's sexy. Tailored suit that fits his muscular frame, dark thick hair I'm dying to run my fingers through, honey brown eyes that somehow twinkle when they meet my own, and of course that smirk. That damn sexy, mischievous smirk that hooked me from the moment he pulled me out of the burning limo last year.

I narrow my eyes at Trey, which only makes his smirk grow into a full megawatt smile. The past few days, he's done this several times. Interrupting the meetings with Todd for lame reasons, most of which could've waited, almost like he's just checking up on me. But that’s crazy, because we’re just friends now, and he’d have no reason to be jealous of me spending time alone with Todd.

Right?

“The consultant I suggested is here to meet with you, ma'am.”

My lips purse, making his split into a full-on smile. Bastard. He knows I hate that ‘ma'am’ shit.

“Thanks, we're almost done.” I hold back from sticking my tongue out.

With a single nod, his eyes roam to Todd, who’s too busy studying the papers in his lap to notice Trey’s scrutiny. I raise both brows and tilt my head, flicking my gaze between the two men. A smug look washes over Trey’s features as he tucks his hands behind his back, widening his stance like he'll be here a while.

Pushy bastard.

I shouldn't say that about him, considering said pushy bastard is saving my ass by introducing me to this consultant, Jessica Hawthorne. Hopefully, fingers and toes crossed, she can assist in getting things moving in DC while I'm flying around the globe meeting with various world leaders and trying not to use the wrong dinner fork.

“Do you want to have dinner tonight?” Todd asks, his words quick, voice tight.

“Sure,” I mutter as I scavenge my desk for the list of items I created earlier this morning to cover with Miss Hawthorne. “Know any place good? I'm still learning where to go in this city.” After pulling a slim manila folder from the stack, I thumb through the few pages tucked inside.

“I do. Pick you up at eight?”

I'm about to say “sure” when someone clears their throat, drawing my attention away from the task at hand. Trey stands beside Todd, his hands fisted at his sides while his face is a mask of stone.

“Send the information to her secretary and we'll get her there,” he says, eyes boring holes into my own. Hints of flush dot his normally flawless cheeks, and the muscles of his jaw pulse like he's holding back from saying more.

“Whatever he says,” I mutter to Todd while pointing the folder in my hand at Trey. “He's the boss. See you tonight, Todd.”

Mindlessly, I maneuver around the desk and fold into the comfortable upholstered armchair. The cushion sinks down, molding around me as I adjust my weight trying to get comfortable. Behind me, the door clicks closed, signaling Todd’s departure.

Focused on preparing for the next meeting, I don't notice anything amiss until a looming presence snags my attention. Slowly I slide my gaze up Trey’s lean frame.

“Can I help you?” I raise both brows, not understanding the obvious frustration pulsing off his tense body.

“You said yes.” The words were more of a hiss than syllables.

“Yeah, and?” Seriously, what is wrong with him today? It's dinner. Everyone eats, and honestly, I need to get out of that house. This past month has been nothing but worry and work and more work. I deserve a good dinner and a bottle or two of wine. Actually, the more I think about it, of course I said yes, I need a few hours of not feeling like the world is pressing on my shoulders.

“You actually like that beanstalk?”

A deep line forms between my brows. The muscle along his clean-shaven jaw twitches. “What's your problem? It's dinner. Do I not get a night where I don't have to worry about all the shit going on around me?”

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