Page 29 of Vixen's Guide to Christmas
Oh, this man is pressed…which can only give me an advantage in the long run.
“That's why I reached out to Logan,” Declan continues. “He raved about you when we met at the Under-40 Business Conference last year. How you single-handedly took GameTech from the kitchen table to a billion-dollar enterprise is…it’s absolutely fascinating. And, well, I don't know if we’re ever going to have the word billions in our title, but I’d sure like to see what you can help us with.”
“Never say never. When Logan came up with SpaceCraft, we were two dumb kids eating bad Chinese food on a wobbly kitchen table. If you have the dream, I say the sky’s the limit.” I turn to give a soft smile to Howard. “You and your family really have built something amazing here. I'm just going to help you come up with the best way to make sure everybody knows about it.”
Grayson loudly clears his throat at my deliberate choice of words. He’s so sensitive. Good to know.
“By the end of the day on Monday, you’ll have the absolute best options for whatever your needs are,” Grayson says. “Whether that’s the brand-new idea from a person you just met, or your tried and true—and proven—option—either way, you’ll be in the best hands possible.”
For the first time since Howard and Declan have sat down, Grayson and I really look at each other, and not as people whoare going to rip each other’s clothes off later. Foes. Rivals. One winner. One loser.
Sure, there’s heat between us still. But now it’s about winning. I might not be overly competitive in day-to-day life, but when I know there’s a prize at stake, there’s no option of me not getting it. So sorry, Grayson…you might’ve made me squirt. You might look sexy as hell with that perfect scruff. And I might’ve had thoughts about taking that dark green button down you’re wearing and slipping it on while you fuck me in it. But when it comes to winning and losing, I don’t lose.
Ever.
“So are we still planning to meet on Monday?” I ask. “You said something earlier about the weather?”
“Yes, the original reason that we rudely interrupted your dinner,” Declan says. “The snow is supposed to do its worst overnight Sunday to Monday. We were seeing, since you were both here, if we could move the meetings up to tomorrow so we can get you both out of here and not ruin your holiday.”
“Of course.”
Grayson and I say the same thing in unison, but he’s not quick enough, so I get the next word. “Tomorrow is great.”
Sure, I had plans tomorrow of being naked for most of the day and working on my presentation in between rounds, but that’s now out the door.
“Excellent,” Howard says, clapping his hands as he stands up. “Thank you both again for coming. Enjoy your dinner tonight. It’s on us.”
I tell both Howard and Declan goodnight, and Grayson does the same. We both sit back down and there’s silence between us. Neither of us are blinking. No one wants to break first.
No one wants to lose.
Oh Grayson…this weekend just got a different kind of fun.
9
grayson
“What the fuck,Kat? Or is it Katherine? Apparently I don’t even know your name!”
Because the hotel door slow closes on itself, I don’t have the privilege to take my frustrations out by slamming it, but I wish I could. I feel like I’ve been losing it for the past hour. Between finding out that Kat is, in fact, Katherine Smith, the woman who I’ve declared my nemesis; Howard and Declan inviting themselves to our meal; Declan looking at Kat likeshe’shis next meal…I was about to fucking blow. I don't like feeling this out of control. Sure, I'm all for spontaneousness and a good, unpredictable adventure, but that's because it'smy choice. I'm the one who says it’s okay to see where the wind takes me. But this right here? This is just fucking insanity.
“Newsflash: Kat is short for Katherine. So you do know my name. And now you know both of them.” She steps closer to me, clearly ready for the battle that she and I both know we’re about to have. “Also, I feel like the generic question of ‘what the fuck’ could mean many different things. How about we get a little more specific? You know, because I wouldn’t want you to become anymoreconfused than you clearly are.”
I’m still breathing heavy, trying to calm myself to the night’s events. But then there’s Kat, or Katherine, whatever she wants to be called, who looks cool, calm and collected. She’s taking off her earrings one by one and slipping out of her heels. The sarcasm is oozing in her voice.
She’s my rival. My adversary. The woman who’s beaten me on many occasions.
And yet, I still want to fuck her. Which is a really, really, big problem.
“How about we start with you not telling me who you were?” I ask, plenty of snark and anger in my tone. “Or should I just call you Vixen, since that’s what you are?”
She laughs at that. “When did I lie to you about my identity? Please, lay out your defense. Also, why the fuck am I a reindeer?”
“Not that kind of vixen,” I say, getting more frustrated because of how much she’s throwing me off my game. “Like a fox. Sneaky. You know. A vixen! Because you weren’t up front about everything.”
Her eyebrows raise slightly as she takes a few steps in my direction. Her eyes are set on me, and it looks like she’s locking in for battle. Good, because this is what it’s about to be. “When we met, I told you my name, which is the shortened version of my full name that I go by in social settings. My apologies for not knowing that at a speed-dating event where we had seven minutes to get to know each other, that I didn’t give you my full government name, Social Security number, and my mother's maiden name. I’ll remember that for next time. Should I include my first pet to be safe?”
“But you weren’t there for speed dating,” I say in a huff. “You were there to impress Hazel.”
