Page 24 of A Billionaire Between the Sheets

“Hell, yeah, it mattered. And the jury thought so too.” He sat up. “You’ve got to let this go, Nash.”

There was a long pause. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let it go if you let French Kiss go.”

***

After his conversation with Nash, Deacon didn’t sleep well. He woke up still on Central time with a headache and a firm resolve. Nash was right. He needed to sign the contract. It was what his brothers and Olivia wanted. And it should be what Deacon wanted too. If he signed the contract, he could finish his condos, build a new house, find some sweet little Sunday school teacher to marry, and set his brothers up for life. He didn’t know anything about the lingerie business. His life was back in Louisiana. Certainly not San Francisco.

Getting up, he showered, shaved, and packed before paying his hotel bill and heading for French Kiss. When he entered the lobby, the pretty receptionist behind the large art deco desk greeted him.

“Good morning. Are you here to see Ms. Harrington again? Because I’m afraid she doesn’t get in until around nine o’clock.”

“That’s okay.” He headed for the elevators. “I’m sure her assistant can help me.”

Except Kelly wasn’t at her desk. But the door to Olivia’s office was cracked open. Thinking he would find Kelly inside, he was surprised when he peeked in and saw a thin blond woman in a red power suit bent over Olivia’s desk reading the contract he’d left there the day before.

“It’s a contract for hundred and fifty million, all right,” she said into the cell phone she had pressed to her ear. “What an idiot. Who would pay that much for a company that’s going under? So now what? You promised me the position of CEO if I helped you ruin French Kiss. I did everything I could on this end—including overlooking the money that was skimmed.”

The woman straightened. Deacon took a step back, but continued to listen.

“Be patient?” she said. “I have been patient. But I’m starting to get the feeling that you’re playing me for a fool. And I’m no fool—”

“Good morning.”

Deacon turned to see Kelly walking down the hall, carrying a stack of empty boxes. As she peeked around them, the top two went tumbling to the floor. He hurried over to help her, but kept his eyes on Olivia’s office. Sure enough, while he was bent over, the skinny blonde slipped out and moved around Kelly’s desk.

“I thought I asked you to take those boxes to my office, Kelly?” she said.

Kelly rolled her eyes at Deacon before answering. “I was planning on it, Ms. Bradley, but then I noticed Mr. Beaumont.”

Ms. Bradley’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Beaumont?”

After what he’d heard, he couldn’t help playing the part. “Michael’s nephew…and the new owner of French Kiss.”

Her eyes widened before she glanced back at Olivia’s office. “But I thought you had…”

“Had what? Ms. Bradley, is it?”

She pulled her gaze away from the door and collected herself. “Yes, Anastasia Bradley. I’m the vice-president of marketing.” She held out a hand, and he shook it briefly.

“Then I guess we’ll be seeing each other again.” He stacked the boxes and picked them up. “Let me help you with these. Where is your office?”

“She’s moving into your uncle’s office,” Kelly said with a gleeful smile.

Deacon lifted an eyebrow at Anastasia. “Really?”

Anastasia quickly took the boxes from him. “Thanks, but I think I can handle it.” Then, without an “It’s nice to meet you,” she turned and headed down the hallway.

She hadn’t even disappeared around the corner before Deacon turned to Kelly. “So what do you know about Ms. Bradley?”

“Besides the fact that she’s a class-A bitch?”

He agreed, but he wasn’t about to tell Kelly that. The young woman needed to learn a few basic rules of business. He took note of her inappropriate dress with the plunging neckline. Okay, so maybe more than a few.

“There are certain words that should be reserved for happy hours,” he said. “Which means that I would like you to answer the question without your personal opinions.”

She looked a little taken aback at first, but quickly recovered. “From what I’ve heard, she came to work here around the same time Ms. Harrington finished college. She graduated cumma sum la-di-da and thinks she should be CEO and not Ms. Harrington.”

“And I’m going to assume that she bullies Ms. Harrington.”

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