Page 25 of A Billion Dollar Romance
“I covered it,” I said. “Personal expense.”
“Sir, are you sure–”
The door swung open just as Alice’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker.
“Mr. Martin here for you, sir.”
“Send him in,” I said, staring the man in the face.
“Jamie,” he said, striding into the room. He nodded politely at Bridget and held out his fist for Lyle to bump his against. “Bridget, you look great. Lyle, you too. And Jamie. James. What’s this I hear about you gettingengaged?”
Bridget’s eyes widened unsubtly.
“Don’t tell me you actually did it,” he continued. I pursed my lips. “Youdid.”
Bridget’s eyes looked from him, to me, to him.
I put her out of her misery: “He knows.”
“Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Okay. This is fine.”
“This is great, are you kidding me?” Charlie said. “I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’d gone through with it!”
“There’s an NDA–” I started, but he talked over me.Me.Damn brothers.
“When do I get to meet her?” he asked, and I was already shaking my head no when the intercom buzzed again.
“Miss Scott is here to see you, Mr. Martin.”
Charlie’s eyes darkened. “Samantha?” he asked. “What’s she doing here?”
“I don’t know, Charlie, probably the same thing you are,” I said. “Showing up unannounced in my office while I’m trying to work.”
“Sure, but this is a family business; I’mfamily–”
“Send her in, Alice, but no one else, alright?”
The door opened once more, this time to reveal a tall, slender woman dressed impeccably in a navy-blue suit. Her blonde hair was similarly impeccable.
“Sam,” I said, sighing as she looked around the room with one eyebrow arched. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Don’t do that, James–act like I never come and see you just for fun.”
“Do you know how to have fun, Samantha?” Charlie muttered from the corner, and her eyes lit on him. He gave a stupid little wave.
“Charlie.Believe it or not, some of us also know how towork.Now. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I said, sighing. “She has her own life, you know.”
“You don’t know where your own ghostwriter is, James? Is that how you run this place?”
It was Bridget who sprang into action; my brain had ground to a halt and was still working on starting up in the opposite direction. “She should be at her desk, second floor, Miss Scott. Ghostwriting department.”
“Aghost, James,” she continued, ignoring Bridget. “You didn’t even think to ask me for a suggestion?”
I rubbed my hand over my brow, feeling the wrinkles deepen there with every passing second.
“I’m sorry, Sam, I should have–”
