Chapter 1 #2
“The fourteen point eight percent variance in gross contribution is caused by…” Andi went on to explain that the cost of production on five of the current products had been higher than expected because of a better than anticipated launch last month, but that there were also several weather related delays that created higher than anticipated costs.
She explained several more points, not going into detail unless the handsome stranger requested clarification.
As she looked into his piercing, dark eyes, Andi had to scramble to keep up with his fast-paced questions and ignore the pounding of her heart.
During the spare breaths between questions, Andi reassured herself that she was just excited about the challenging questions and the opportunity to prove herself in front of Harold.
But deep down, she knew that the fluttering in her stomach was something more significant. And more dangerous!
However, after several minutes of grilling, and scowls, Andi’s temper flared.
Why was the man irritated with her answers?
What was up with the angry expression? Her answers were spot on and she could even cite specifics to back up her explanations!
The man hadn’t challenged any of the other directors’ responses like this!
Every time she thought that he was finished, that she could finally relax like the others, he snapped another question at her.
While the other directors had answered questions for perhaps five or ten minutes, the jerk interrogated her for more than fifteen.
She continued to answer, even giving additional information when he asked a follow up question.
But with every harsh question, Andi’s anxiety grew.
Why was he asking for more information than he’d asked of the others?
Andi’s anger built with every question. Thankfully, she knew the data and was able to answer every question precisely and succinctly.
Finally, there was a longer pause. Andi held her breath as the man eyed her. She glared right back at him, frustrated that he’d interrogated her longer than necessary. Some of those questions had felt like a test, as if the answer wasn’t as important as seeing if she knew the data well.
Andi waited, tense and bristling, for the next round of questions. But the man at the head of the table merely stared at her. Thankfully, the scowl had vanished, but he continued to stare, almost as if he were mentally reviewing her answers. But towards what end?
Finally, those dark eyes moved on to the next person at the conference table.
Slowly, Andi deliberately released the stress from her shoulders. She must have passed the test, because Harold’s hand patted her arm before he leaned back in his chair.
After nearly ninety minutes, the meeting finally ended.
“Thank you, everyone,” the man said, his deep voice sending unwelcome shivers down her spine. He nodded to the group, then stood up.
Andi watched the handsome, arrogant stranger leave the conference room with a rising sense of…? What? This feeling wasn’t anger. Maybe a sense of injustice? Or perhaps…? Was this uncomfortable sensation…disappointment?
Impossible, Andi silently scolded herself.
She was just annoyed and had felt singled out during the meeting.
Sure, she was roughly twenty years younger than anyone else in the room.
But at the age of twenty-eight, she shouldn’t be considered a “young’un” anymore.
She’d done the research on the financial data, knew the answers, and had answered every question correctly and professionally. So, what was his problem?
Everyone left, obviously in a hurry to return to their offices and get answers to any unanswered questions.
Harold didn’t look at her, nor did he offer a nod of appreciation for saving his butt. Andi’s boss’s boss simply stood up and hurried from the conference room, leaving his coffee cup and dirty napkin behind.
Alone now, and a bit unsettled, Andi slowly gathered up her notes and stood, pushing the leather chair behind her harder than she’d meant to.
Who the hell was that man and why did he have to be so arrogantly blunt and impatient? Couldn’t he just…relax a little? The morale in this conference room would be much better if the ass wasn’t so…rude! And impatient!
It was equally surprising—and infuriating—that Harold, the chief financial officer, hadn’t even tried to answer the questions. He’d stayed completely silent, waiting for Andi to step in. And yet he was the one earning the big bucks!
Before she could decide her next move, the air seemed to crackle. The large, intimidating man from earlier stepped back into the room. He was halfway to the chair he’d occupied during the meeting when he noticed her still standing there.
For several long moments, she simply stared. Dark, nearly black hair. Strong eyebrows over piercing, expressive eyes. And his lips—hard and unsmiling. Everything about this man radiated hardness and intimidation.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his tone clipped.
"I’m Andi…uh, Andrea McCormick," she replied, lifting her chin as annoyance and resentment bubbled inside her. Who the hell did he think he was? Obviously, some big shot—but underneath the title, he was still a jerk!
Unexpectedly, his gaze softened, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "You did a good job, Andi-uh-Andrea McCormick," he said, a teasing glimmer lighting his dark eyes. "What’s your role here at Raife Industries?"
A compliment? Thirty seconds ago, she would have sworn this man wasn’t capable of one.
Straightening her shoulders, she met his gaze without flinching. "I’m a financial analyst on Marty’s team. Martin Bloomberg. He’s the director of finance."
The corners of his mouth curved higher. "I’m well aware of Mr. Bloomberg’s position within the company," he said, the hint of humor making him even more insufferable. "But why were you here instead of Marty?"
Fair question. She tamped down her irritation—barely. "He was in a car accident this morning."
"Okay," he said with a nod. "That’s a legitimate reason to miss the meeting. But that doesn’t answer my real question." His voice dropped, laced with quiet intensity. "Why didn’t Harold answer the questions today? Why did he drag you into this meeting and rely on you to carry it?"
Andi was stumped. She had no idea why Harold hadn’t been prepared.
As the chief financial officer, you'd think he’d have a basic grasp of the company's financial health. For a split second, she considered lying—but Andi was a terrible liar. The last time she’d tried had been in elementary school, and it had ended in disaster.
She pressed her lips together, then shrugged. "I’m not sure," she said honestly. "I’ll speak with him and let you know."
Without waiting for a reply, the man turned and tossed over his shoulder, "Come with me," striding out of the room like he owned the building.
Andi followed, silently hurling every curse she could think of at his broad, retreating back.
Stepping out into the executive hallway, she paused.
It was eerily quiet now. Where had everyone gone?
Not that she cared. Frankly, she wasn't in any hurry to find Mr. Arrogant.
He might be dreamy, with those wide shoulders and dark, brooding eyes—but she preferred her dream men with basic human decency.
"Andi-Andrea!" he called from the office at the end of the hall.
She spun, glaring at the open double doors.
Oh, she would have loved to tell him exactly where he could stick that bossy tone.
But she liked her job—and she was damn good at it.
This wasn’t just a paycheck to her; it was a chance to make a real impact.
Way better than her last job, where she’d just crunched numbers and handed them off like a human calculator.
Still, he could use a course or two in basic manners.
Not that she had the guts—or the stupidity—to try teaching him. Gritting her teeth, she marched down the hallway, her notes tucked firmly under her arm. She thought about forcing a polite smile but suspected it would come out closer to a snarl.
Courteous interest and cool professionalism. That’s the play.
When she stepped into the office, Andi forgot herself completely.
She stopped short, mouth falling open as she stared out the wall of windows.
The Philadelphia skyline glittered like a field of diamonds.
From up here, the snarled traffic on I-95 looked almost beautiful—no angry horns, no stench of exhaust, just twinkling streams of light heading north and south.
"You did extremely well in that meeting," his voice cut in, snapping her out of it.
She turned, startled—and wary. Another compliment? From him ?
"Thank you," she said stiffly, giving a slight nod. She hated the tremor in her knees. Hated the flutter in her chest. She had never felt like this around a man before—and she definitely didn’t appreciate it now.
He chuckled, reading her like a book, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "You don’t like me very much, do you?"
He poured wine into a tall glass and something darker into a short, heavy tumbler. Scotch? Bourbon? Whiskey? She didn’t know, and didn’t care. Her wine expertise ended at red or white , usually chosen based on a funny label or a pretty bottle.
"I don’t know you, sir," she replied coolly, carefully accepting the wine. She made a point of avoiding his fingers. When she glanced up into his eyes, there was a silent exchange—a flicker of acknowledgment that he knew exactly what she was doing.
What an unpleasant, dangerously attractive man.
"How do you possess such extensive knowledge about financial variances?" he asked, motioning toward a sleek seating area in the corner of his absurdly large office.
The sheer size of it irked her. Her office barely fit a desk and a filing cabinet. Forget extra chairs. Visitors didn't come to her—she went to them, usually after being summoned like an errand girl.
Andi tilted her head, surprised he even cared. "That’s my job, sir," she answered, sitting stiffly and placing her notes on her lap. She cupped the wineglass with both hands but didn’t take a sip. No way was she letting her guard down.
"And what exactly is your job?" he pressed.
"I’m a financial analyst on Martin Bloomberg’s team. We analyze the monthly and quarterly data, summarize it, and provide explanations for any variances to Martin. It was my understanding that Martin would then summarize that and pass it to Harold."
"All evidence to the contrary," he muttered under his breath.
"What’s that?" Andi asked, her curiosity pricking despite every instinct screaming at her to get out of there.
He was dangerous—not in the way she’d feared—but in the way he made her forget she was supposed to be careful.