Page 48 of Start With A Slap

His eyelids fluttered, and he trained his gaze elsewhere.

Smug, Ivy congratulated herself. Any second now...

“You’re not fooling anyone, Miss Tyler.”

Her face fell. That’s not what he was supposed to say. “Huh?”

“Keep it up if you like, but it’s not gonna work.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sever put it to her bluntly, “Are you coming on to me?”

“No!” Ivy said, defensive under his level gaze, realizing too late that an answer like that would sabotage her entire plan. And a ‘yes’ would give him an all-access pass.

So much for trying to beat him at his own game.All hail the undefeated champ.

“Cheer up, love,” he held up his water glass. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”

Shoulders sagging, she glared at him. As he laughed, she grumped, “Ruin my fun.”

“If it was fun for you, by all means, carry on. I didn’t hate it myself.”

She nearly swatted him again, and her heart pounded as she envisioned the consequence. A harsh reminder that on theiréchiquier de la vie, she was the only one in danger of being mated.

There was a buzz in the ballroom, and expectant glances were cast their way. Ivy caught the words LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT flashing over the big presentation screen in several languages.Oh. That.

“More ass kissing,” she said through a smile as a presenter took to the stage. “Just what your ego needs.”

“Good job I got you to keep me humble.”

After the presenter spoke, a multimedia intro cued up. He didn’t watch it, but she did. She welcomed the distraction, especially when photographs and video clips of early Sever filled the screen, traversing the world with his sparkly blue eyes and his model-pretty face and Hello again, picture of Sever’s long tongue...

He whispered in her ear, “Mirror mirror.”

Tongue picture. Ear whisper. Evil combination. “What?”

“Your job, Miss Tyler?” He sat up straight. “How do I look? Remember, the fall-back word is ‘radiant’.”

“You look...” Seeing the spark dance in his eyes, she smiled and said, “young.”

Giving her a look of flattered surprise, he cocked his head.

The presenter finished with, “The incomparable Sever Mark.”

“That’s you,” she said over the applause, but he was still reading her for motives that weren’t there. Or possibly thinking about kissing her. “Sever?”

“Mm?— Oh.”

“Wait.” She brushed a bread crumb off his lapel with a paper napkin. “Et voilà, jobaccompli.”

“Merci, mon employée.” He opened her palm, took the napkin, and got up to accept his award.

At the podium, his body language slipped easily into that of an assured, charismatic leader. The applause still going, he sized up the award, a conceptual sculpture of a golden wing, and weighed it in his fist. “Cheers, Jim.” He put the award down before him, and the room hushed.

Sever leaned into the mic and set his sights on Ivy. For a few torturous seconds, he considered her in silence. Then he took a breath and said, “It started with a slap.”

Her eyes widened, and her face flushed.

---