Page 14 of Flirting with My Billionaire Enemy

I nod and jotFergusonon my notepad. It’s tempting to start doodling little hearts with Kaison’s name at this point. But I promptly put my pen down before my hand can betray me.

“So the Ferguson files?” I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with them.

“Is there a problem with that?” He raises an eyebrow at me.

“Yes, um, would you mind going over one more time what you’d like me to do with them?” I say in a tiny voice. This isn’t like me. I don’t do this. I’m usually on top of everything, but this man is going to be the end of me. I’m falling apart here, and I have no idea what I can do to pull myself back together. Imagine what might happen if he actually were to kiss me.

Stop, Ariana! I can’t go there. As much as my mind is begging me to fantasize about a kiss with Kaison, I just can’t. I’m in the middle of a business meeting. It doesn’t matter that this man is delectable and kissable, and smells like a crisp morning in the woods after a rain. All fresh and clean. None of that matters. The Ferguson files are what matter right now. Focus.

My cheeks are on fire. I hope he doesn’t notice. I look up from my paper.

Great. He’s staring at me. I sit up straighter and lift my chin like the business professional that I know myself to be.

“You’ll need to look over the files to find the places where we’ve been bleeding out money. Make a list of them and I’ll do the same with my files. Then we’ll get back together and compare notes.”

Oh, I’d gladly compare notes with him. Wait. What does that even mean?

I clear my throat. “Sure. That sounds good to me.”

He stands up. “Great. We’ll get started there. I don’t think we’ll need any other paper files. We should be able to access everything else digitally.”

“What about the Linford files?”

He pauses and looks back at me with an impressed expression on his face. “Good catch. We’ll need that file pulled as well. You’ve been paying attention, Ms. Hashemi. Well done.”

If only he knew the truth.

* * *

“Why are you packing?”

I nearly jump out of my worn-out flip flops. “Good grief, you can’t sneak up on me like that. Way to give a girl a heart attack.”

My cousin comes into the room in yoga pants and a sports bra with her hair pulled up into a sleek black ponytail. “I thought you just started a new job. You’re leaving already?”

“I have to head to Blue Mountain with Kaison tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, so it’s going that well already.” Farah has an annoying triumphant look on her face.

I wrinkle my nose. “Not like that. It’s purely for work,” I insist. While that’s true, there’s this tiny rebellious part of me that I’ve been trying to smack into silence that won’t shut up about wanting to take my relationship with Kaison from a work one to something a bit more personal.

“So you’re saying you don’t have the hots for him?”

“I’m not going there.”

Her eyes light up. “That sounds like a yes to me!” she squeals.

“Weren’t you the one who warned me to stay away from him?” I point out while shoving a comfy pair of stretchy work pants into my suitcase. It was one of those impulse buys where you see an ad on social media and you can’t help yourself but click on it since the sales pitch sucked you in.

Yeah, I’m that person. But to be fair, the pants were as comfortable as the ad promised. It was worth the hefty price tag they slapped onto it. But I’m willing to pay more for comfort. I’m not the type to sacrifice my level of comfiness in exchange for looking hot. I’m not looking to hook a man with my outer appearance. Sheesh, I’m not looking to hook a man, period, for that matter.

Farah leans against my door frame looking like an ad for workout clothing. “There’s no reason why you can’t have a little fun on the side.”

“There’s a long list of reasons why I can’t do that. Especially with Kaison.” I walk over to my closet and rummage through the sensible businesswear, pulling out a few blouses.

“You’re welcome to borrow some things from my closet. You know, change things up a bit.” Farah has an all too eager expression on her face that I don’t like.

“My clothes are perfectly fine.”

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