It’s Just Business by Lauren Landish, W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
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“Dylan, it’s been too long,” Ollie replies, shaking hands enthusiastically.

This is a completely different introduction than all the others tonight. Dylan and Ollie sound like actual friends.

“You’re right. About what, thirty pounds lighter or so?” Dylan compliments him, and Ollie puffs his chest out a little.

“Doctor said I had to work on my blood pressure. Apparently, red meat and scotch aren’t good for me,” he sighs wistfully despite having just eaten a meatball that likely isn’t on his doctor’s nutrition plan. “I tried to tell him it’s not the food, but the stress. Unfortunately for me, it seems he was right because it’s working. Blood pressure’s down several points now, which means Wendy’s got the chef feeding me chicken every damn day.”

“Good for you,” Dylan says. “How is your lovely wife? She here?”

I watch the two of them chatting, and just as I begin to feel as if I’m intruding, Dylan’s thumb slips down the small of my back and then his hand is on my hip. He squeezes ever so slightly, telling me to be patient, and I lean into his soothing touch, smiling politely as they talk.

“She’s just fine, visiting our new granddaughter in Seattle,” Ollie says proudly. “I’d have gone, but with the quarterly meeting next week, I had to stick around. I promised I’d go over the holidays, though.”

“About that. I may have the best opportunity you’ll get this year to get away for a long winter break,” Dylan says, getting to business as he indicates to me. “Ollie, I’d like to introduce you to Raven Hill. She recently interviewed with me, so you know she’s smart, ambitious, and skilled, but I think she might actually fit better with you at your firm.”

“Oh, really?” Ollie says, turning interested eyes to me. Dylan’s introduction clearly shows how well he knows Ollie, and how much forethought he gave this introduction.

“Dylan mentioned you have a position at your firm for a fund manager, and I expressed my interest.”

“I do, in fact,” Ollie says as Dylan quietly excuses himself to get drinks. “I’m looking for someone who can do the research and make the calls on trades, letting me focus on the big picture operations of the firm. While leaving the office at five might not be in my immediate future, I would like to see the sunset from something besides my office window occasionally.”

“I see. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

“See the sunset from an office window?” he asks comically, and with my laugh, the conversation moves easily. It’s obvious that he’s passionate about business but wanting to slow down. I could see myself very easily working for him and filling a spot that could give him an opportunity to spend more time with family.

After several minutes of talking, Dylan reappears as if he senses our impromptu interview is drawing to a close. He bids Ollie goodbye, sending his regard to Wendy, and we continue working around the room.

I feel accomplished. This is what I’m meant to be doing and where I’m meant to do it. I’ve met so many people tonight, those in positions of power, not only in the stock markets, but in the world. I’ve done my best to make a good impression and engage in polite small talk, all the while trying to hide the fact that at times, I’m still shaking with nerves. I could see the measuring look in peoples’ eyes, but even the ones who were clearly just networking or meeting me because I was with Dylan were at least respectful of my skills and my talents.

How did I go this long without this? Sure, part of it was my own stubbornness about wanting to ‘do it myself’. But as I think back, I realize that something, or more accurately, someone else, was holding me back too.

Evan. He told me more than once that events like this weren’t worth it and he only attended because of his father. And after I mentioned doing things on my own, he latched on to that idea, making it seem like attending as his girlfriend would mark me as a gold-digging ladder jumper. Just thinking his name brings back that twist in my stomach.

As if thinking of him summoned the devil himself, I look up from a tray of champagne, picking up my third glass of the night, to find his sharp gaze piercing mine. Before I can turn, he calls out my name loud enough for everyone around us to hear.

I wish I didn’t look up. I wish I walked off as though I didn’t hear him. Instead, I plaster on a fake smile, one that hopefully reads as ‘fancy seeing you here’ and not ‘I hate you with the flames of a thousand suns’. I don’t go to him. I’m not that stupid. I know exactly how that would appear to those around us. But rather, I hold my ground and allow him to walk over to me.


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