Page 35 of A Billionaire Between the Sheets

Pushing down her anger, Olivia sat down in Michael’s chair. The reminder of Michael was painful, but not as painful as what she was about to do. She set her coffee cup on the table in front of her, keeping her hands curled around it. The cup appeared to be emitting the only warmth in the room. Everyone’s expression was cool and expectant.

She cleared her throat. “Good morning.” There was a chorus of “Good mornings” followed by a heavy silence. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I was hoping to come here today and offer up a bright new future for French Kiss. Unfortunately, I was unable to—”

The door opened, and Deacon came striding in as if he owned the place and everyone in it. He looked like he did. He wore a gray designer suit, pressed button-down shirt, and purple tie. His hair had been combed back from his forehead and only a hint of dark stubble shadowed his square jaw.

“Sorry I’m late.” He walked to the front and stopped next to Olivia’s chair. And she was embarrassed to realize that in their gray suits, they looked like a matched set.

She glanced at the confused board members before whispering under her breath, “What are you doing here? I thought you left.”

“I probably should have, but sometimes you have to go with your gut instead of your head.” He nodded at her chair. “I believe this is my seat, Ms. Harrington.”

“Excuse me?”

“My chair. Aren’t you sitting in my chair?”

Suddenly she didn’t care if everyone in the room heard her. “You signed the contract. I saw it.”

His smile got a little wider. “Yes, I did sign a contract. But not the one you gave me. I had Jason draw up a new one. And until you agree to and sign that one”—he tipped his head—“you’re sitting in my chair.”

“But how did your brothers—”

The door opened again, and Nash and Grayson walked in. Unlike Deacon, they looked like they had come straight from a hunting trip—or an episode of Duck Dynasty. They wore camouflage pants and worn T-shirts that matched perfectly with their scruffy hair and beards—Grayson’s only slightly thicker than before.

Nash took the first seat he came to and reached for one of the pastries in the center of the table. After a big bite, he nodded at Olivia. “Hi, Cuz.”

She sent him an annoyed look before turning to Grayson, who gave her an encouraging smile as he sat down next to his brother. Every eye turned to her for some kind of explanation. But before she could speak, Deacon cleared his throat.

“Anytime this week, Ms. Harrington.”

Shooting him daggers, she got up and moved to the chair on his right. Once Deacon was seated, he wasted no time with introductions.

“I’m Deacon Beaumont.” He held out a hand. “And these are my brothers Nash and Grayson. As you may have heard, our dear uncle Michael willed us controlling shares of this fine company.”

A mumble of surprise ran through the board, and Anastasia spoke first. “But I thought Ms. Harrington bought your shares.”

Deacon nodded. “She’s in the process of buying us out. But for the time being, my brothers and I are…in control.” When the mumbles started again, he cut them off. “Now I’m sure you have some concerns, and I’ll be happy to address those after Ms. Harrington’s presentation.”

Olivia felt her stomach drop. What was Deacon doing? Wasn’t it enough that her beloved company was failing? Did he have to embarrass her in front of the entire board? Obviously the answer to these questions was yes. But unwilling to give him the satisfaction of humiliating her, she tipped up her chin.

“I’m afraid that I don’t have—”

Kelly came hurrying in the door with a laptop. “Sorry it took so long, but I have the PowerPoint presentation all set up, Ms. Harrington.” She set the laptop in front of Olivia and handed her a remote before pushing the button on the wall that lowered the projector screen. Deacon got up and motioned to his chair.

“It might be better if you sit here after all.” When she just stared at him in confusion, he walked over and pulled out her chair, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You’ve got this, Olivia. Let’s show these clowns what you’re made of.”

At the moment she was made of fear, confusion, and anger that Deacon was putting her on the spot. But there was something in his tone—conviction and kinship—that had her tapping the button on her laptop that started the PowerPoint presentation, before getting to her feet.

A title popped up on the screen in scrolled purple letters. She stared at the words for a moment before clearing her throat and reading.

“The Legendary Lovers Line.” She clicked the remote. The next frame gave her pause, and she shot a glance at Deacon, who only shrugged. She turned back to the screen and read the words. “The Valentino Collection.” She clicked, expecting to see Babette’s flamboyant designs. Instead she was shocked to see one of her own designs. The drawing was much better than hers had been. The woman’s full breasts and curvy hips were the perfect mannequin for the sheer nightgown and matching peignoir. She glanced at Grayson, and he winked.

Her hand tightened around the remote, and she spoke in a hesitant voice. “I got the inspiration for this collection from the 1940s Hollywood starlets.” She clicked to the next drawing. “The colors are dark and dramatic. The material sexy and feminine.” It was strange, but by the time she clicked to the next drawing, everything had just sort of fallen into place. She knew the story behind every drawing—what had inspired it. Why she thought it would sell.

She wasn’t surprised to find two more collections after Valentino’s. Lothario’s consisted of her edgier, more erotic designs, while Romeo’s were younger, softer, and more romantic. What did surprise Olivia was how perfectly her designs had been organized into collections. And how perfectly the names went with each one. Deacon might not know the lingerie business, but he knew marketing. With simple organization and titles, he’d changed Olivia’s designs into something special—something salable. Halfway through the presentation, she knew it. And by the time she set the remote down on the table and turned to the board members, her heart was beating so loudly in her ears that she was worried she wouldn’t be able to hear any questions people might have.

Fortunately, no one seemed to have questions. After only a moment’s pause, Deacon started clapping. And everyone in the room soon joined in the applause. Everyone but Anastasia, who looked slightly ill. Although she quickly started clapping when Deacon arched an eyebrow at her.

He stood and reclaimed everyone’s attention. To her surprise, Olivia was more than relieved to give it to him.

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