Page 119 of Billionaire Bachelor
I glanced around and sure enough, Antonio, the head receptionist, was snickering. Luckily for me, he was my other best friend.
I pointed at him. “Not a damn word.”
He mimed buttoning his lips and batted his eyelashes. “My lips are sealed, honey. Although, if you’re going to continue this conversation, you bitches better include me.”
I glared at him. “Is he here yet?”
“Who?” Antonio asked innocently. “The owner of the cock in question?”
My eyes narrowed farther. “No, you idiot. The delivery guy from Stumptown.”
“Oh, don’t get your La Perlas in a bunch. He just left five minutes ago. Everyone will be sufficiently fed and caffeinated. Now, tell me more about Mr. Maxwell’s D. The greater the detail, the better.”
I growled, making both Antonio and Sylvie laugh, as I made my way down the long hallway leading to our main conference room.
Maxwell Hotels had recently acquired two gorgeous properties in Hawaii, and today we were meeting to discuss our new marketing campaign for the launch. When Sylvie and I got to the conference room, I immediately started rearranging the pastries so the muffins were on the left, the bagels were in the middle, and the Danishes were on the right. Our CEO, Ronan Maxwell, or as I liked to refer to him, the billionaire bosshole, was the most anally retentive person on the planet. I had no idea why, but the man had practically had an aneurysm the last time the pastries had been all mixed together. I had no desire to find yet another coffee vendor, so I was arranging them by height, just the way he preferred.
Sylvie switched on the projector, cueing up her PowerPoint presentation. She had been with the company for about four years as our creative director of marketing and I had been here just over two as Mr. Maxwell’s executive assistant. Between you and me, she’d definitely gotten the better end of the deal. My salary might seem obscene to outsiders, but if they knew what I had to deal with on any given day, they’d think I was underpaid.
I walked to the front of the room and exchanged warm greetings with several members of our executive team as they filed in, taking their designated seats.
“Thank you for being here today. As you know, renovations for our new Hawaiian locations are near completion.” I nodded to Sylvie. “Miss O’Hare’s team has created a brilliant marketing campaign to capitalize on the upcoming high season. She’s going to review each phase of?—”
Mr. Maxwell then entered the room. As usual, he was dressed impeccably in a charcoal designer suit—Prada, I was guessing—with a crisp white shirt. The overhead lights glinted off his signature platinum cufflinks as he looked at his watch.
His light blue eyes met mine and for a moment, I forgot about how much I loathed this man. His focus was so intense, it was a miracle I could finish my sentence. Ronan Maxwell was so beautiful, yet masculine, it took my breath away. Every inch of him was undeniably attractive, but my gaze always got hung up on his ridiculously full lips.
I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d fantasized about tugging that lower lip between my teeth. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he got injections. As much as I’d like to deny it, my lady bits were instantly ready for action any time he was near. Hell, the man could practically make me come just with his deep, rumbly voice. It also didn’t help that you could bounce a quarter off his ass and he always wore his dark brown hair in that freshly fucked way that I loved.
I looked away, deliberately ignoring how his perfectly tailored suit stretched across his broad chest. Once, I’d walked in on him changing, and I swear on my life, I almost orgasmed on the spot. Mr. Maxwell stood in the middle of his office, completely shirtless. For someone who worked so many hours, you wouldn’t think his muscles would be so defined, but I could personally attest to the fact that they were. He even had that elusive V that turned smart women into dumbasses.
I had no idea when he fit time into his schedule for a workout, but I wouldn’t lie and tell you that I wasn’t grateful. It was only a matter of seconds before he pulled on a new shirt—one that didn’t have a giant coffee stain on it—but that brief moment in time had inspired more than one X-rated dream. If nothing else, the man was good for that.
“We all know why we’re here,” Head Asshole barked. “Now, since you make amuchbetter door than a window, if you’ll move aside so we can actuallyseethe slides, that’d be fantastic, Miss Montgomery.”
Well, that certainly reminds me how much of a jerk he is.
I took the seat closest to Sylvie and gestured for her to begin her presentation. I was only half-listening since I’d already seen all the slides, which was probably a good thing since Mr. Maxwell was being his usual condescending self. Sylvie fielded his questions like the marketing badass that she was, and when she reached the end of her PowerPoint, the other executives were looking at her with admiration, clearly pleased with her presentation.
Mr. Maxwell, of course, was never satisfied with anything. “Miss O’Hare, is this truly the best idea your team could come up with?” He gestured to the projector screen. “Surely, you can think of a more original slogan than ‘A Taste of Paradise in Paradise.’”
Sylvie cleared her throat. “Mr. Maxwell, as I mentioned in my presentation, that slogan is what our panel of testers responded best to.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t give ashitwhat testers responded best to. I care about what’s going to max out our occupancy. What’s going to boost sales for spa services and guest excursions. I care about what’s going tomake me and our shareholders money. And this slogan isnotit. Understand?”
She blinked rapidly. “Yes, sir. We’ll come up with more ideas and get those to you by the end of the week.”
“You have until Thursday, or you’ll all be looking for new jobs. Am I clear?” Mr. Maxwell folded his arms over his chest.
Sylvie nodded and began closing down her laptop. “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Maxwell looked around the room. “Well, what are you waiting for? The meeting is over. Get out of here.”
Ugh, he is such an ass.
As I headed toward the door, Mr. Maxwell said, “Not you, Miss Montgomery. I’d like a word.”
Sylvie mouthedgood luckas she stepped out of the room.
