Chapter 9 #2
My heart climbs into my throat.
He caps the bottle, stands, and looks at me with something unreadable. Something that shouldn’t make me feel seen.
But it does.
And that’s the most dangerous thing of all.
“Only a few murder plots? You’re slacking, Thunder.”
An almost-smile tugs at my lips, but reality slams into me. “Shit. My presentation. I’m late.”
I stand up, but the sudden move reminds me of my knee, and while the pain isn’t as strong as before, I stumble.
Liam grips my elbows to steady me. My eyes focus on his tie, the silk smooth and cool, just like its owner.
“I came to tell you it’s been postponed.”
I snap my eyes to him. Have they already decided they don’t need my input? Is postponing it only a step away from being canceled?
“Why?” My question sounds like an accusation.
“Corm got called in for some house-pet emergency.” Liam shrugs.
I relax, a bit. That sounds very plausible. Ever since he married Saar, who keeps fostering dogs and cats from the shelter where she volunteers, Corm has been running to a vet as often as he attends a board meeting of one of his companies.
“That happens a lot,” I murmur.
He is still holding me close, supporting me at my elbow. I can smell the clean starch of his shirt, hear the steady inhale-exhale that’s far calmer than mine. My body awakens again.
I shouldn’t even fight it anymore. Clearly, somewhere between the sex club and meeting this man, I lost the ability to control my libido.
I step back, finally able to breathe with more ease.
“Are you okay?” He searches my face with such intensity, I almost flinch.
But I have years of training in not wavering under a scrutinizing, intimidating, or threatening gaze. Another thing I have my father to thank for. This one is perhaps an asset.
The thought of my father snaps me out of whatever spell Liam cast over me.
“I’m okay,” I say curtly. “Thank you for your help.” I point to the door, dismissing him.
He doesn’t move as his lips curl into a satisfied smile. “And she is back. You got me worried there for a minute, Roxy.” His voice dips, warmer than he probably intended.
I need to get my shit together here, for fuck’s sake. “Just because you witnessed a vulnerable moment and patched me up, it doesn’t mean we’re friends. If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
I take my seat and shake the mouse, pretending to act with purpose, not even sure what I see on the screen as it comes to life.
“And here I thought we were finally bonding.” He chuckles as he leaves.
Me too. Me too. Unfortunately.
“Enjoy, Joey.” Liam hands a cup of coffee to the IT associate, patting his back.
“What the fuck?” I murmur, signing a form at the reception desk. Something sharp tugs in my chest. I ignore it.
Liam pats Joey’s back like they are BFFs. So that’s how he got himself a tablet without my sign-off. Bribing people.
For a person who is as warm as Antarctica, he knows how to use people to his advantage.
“Isn’t he dreamy?” Alina sing-songs.
“Who? Joey?” I frown at her. I know exactly who. I just want her to say it.
She laughs. “Well, he’s adorable in a brotherly way, but Mr. Stone? He makes you regret that the company has a fraternization policy.”
My ovaries share her disdain. All the other parts of me want to fire her. Perfect, now I’m jealous.
No. No. No. It can’t be jealousy. I hate the man. I’m just being professional. Alina’s comments are inappropriate.
Yeah, go with that version, Roxy. God, you’re disgusting.
“It’s a no-fraternization policy. And you shouldn’t voice your fantasies unless you want to explain yourself to HR.”
She snorts. “No worries. He lives up to his name. That man is as cold as stone. He barely acknowledges most of us.”
“Good morning.” Cal steps out of the elevator, annoyingly cheerful. Alina hands him his coffee, and he frowns at me. “You look pale, Roxy.”
That’s another unfortunate development. It’s been five weeks since I started competing for the partnership.
While Liam’s first presentation offered new solutions, Corm and Cal appreciated my approach as well. To my surprise, they actually took only one of Liam’s suggestions and presented my version to the client.
It felt unwarranted. Undeserved.
As a result, I’ve been pushing extra hard, trying to make up for it. The stress is taking its toll, and my stomach is floating most of the time. I oscillate between waves of nausea and binge-eating donuts.
To add to my general well-being, I haven’t been sleeping well, studying, researching, and preparing for the daily battle that is working with Liam Stone. Or proving I’m worthy of the partnership.
I’m wearing extra makeup to counteract the effect of stress on my skin, but I guess it’s not enough.
“It’s a new foundation I’m trying,” I lie.
He eyes me with suspicion, but doesn’t comment. “How is the presentation coming along?”
“We are ready. And we didn’t kill each other in the process.”
Just barely. Since my knee injury, Liam has been acting like the biggest jerk. Having just witnessed his interaction with Joey, being an asshole is a pastime he loves to practice on me alone.
As much as I fight back, it’s like trying to break into a high-security vault. He doesn’t react to my attempts to put him in place.
It’s frustrating.
Infuriating.
Puzzling.