Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Since I had an armful of files, my laptop, and a venti Starbucks coffee, Sarah opened the door, and I stepped through first. I’d made it exactly two steps when the man Pittman had been talking to turned around. Then everything fell apart.
Literally. I froze.
Sarah, who was right behind me, walked into me, causing the files I held to slip from my hands. I bent to catch them. My coffee bobbled, and I gripped the container, which caused the lid to pop off. When I grabbed for it, the entire venti coffee spilled all over the carpet. The only thing I somehow managed to save from the conference room floor was my laptop.
Before I could collect my things or even right myself to standing, a strong hand found my elbow as I wobbled down at the floor. The man had crouched down directly in front of me, and all I could do was stare.
Yet I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Nor could I figure out how to use my big mouth to say a single word, and we were suddenly face to face. The intensity of our connection knocked the wind right out of me. My pulse raced, heart pounded inside of my chest, and I didn’t even attempt to pick up my files or splattered coffee.
Keeping hold of my elbow, he held out his other hand for me to take.
“Good to see you again, Freckles.”
***
I had no idea how I managed to make it through the beginning of the presentation. I’d originally thought I’d be nervous with Mr. Pittman and the other named partners in the room while I spoke. Then again, I’d had no idea Gray Westbrook would be staring at me from the opposite end of the table. His eyes were penetrating, and his smirk both infuriated and intimidated me.
Even worse, he was more gorgeous than I remembered. His skin was tanned, which made the green in his eyes that much more penetrating. Through his suit, I could tell he’d grown bulkier, that underneath the expensive, tailored clothing was a body just as chiseled as his jaw. And sitting at the head of the table, he exuded a power that hit all my hot buttons. I’d forgotten a man could physically affect me in that way.
I attempted to ignore him and stick to my slides. But he made it damn near impossible. From the moment I’d started, he’d forced me to interact by asking questions. My presentation was approximately thirty slides, and so far he’d interrupted on at least ten. At first it made me nervous, even though his questions were basically softballs. But after I regained my wits, his constant forcing me to respond to him had started to piss me off.
“Our securities division works closely with the SEC, FINRA, DOJ, and New York State Securities Division to monitor and—”
He interrupted me. Again. “Who will be heading up my team?”
“As I was going to say, the securities division is comprised of a senior partner who worked at the Department of Justice, litigating securities fraud for eleven…”
While I was speaking, Gray looked at his watch. He then proceeded to interrupt me for what had to be the twentieth time in less than half an hour. “I’m sorry. I have a meeting across town I need to run to.”
If eyes shot daggers, the man would have looked like a slice of Lacey Swiss. What the hell is he doing? Trying to get even for the way things ended?
I folded my arms over my chest. “Was it unclear that our presentation would take at least an hour?”
Though my eyes never left Gray’s, I felt heads swing in my direction. The senior partners were probably having a heart attack right about now.
I didn’t give a shit.
Gray’s lip quirked. He was enjoying himself. The asshole.
“We initially booked an hour, but something urgent has come up that requires my immediate attention.”
“Really? When did it come up?”
“Layla,” Mr. Pittman warned, stopping short of that’ll be enough out of you. But he didn’t need to say it; his tone said it all.
Then he turned his attention to Gray. “I’m sorry, Mr. Westbrook. Of course we understand that you’re busy. Perhaps we can reschedule, and I’d be more than happy to finish the presentation and answer any questions you might have.”
Gray stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “That won’t be necessary.”
Mr. Pittman began to talk, but Gray spoke only to me across the table. “Perhaps Layla can finish tonight over dinner.”
I squinted. “I have a previous engagement with a client.”
Pittman’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “I’ll fill in for whatever you have tonight, Layla. You’ll finish your presentation over dinner with Mr. Westbrook.”
The big boss wasn’t asking; he was telling. I had already pushed my luck as far as it could possibly bend without snapping, so I kept my mouth shut and silently glared at Gray.