Page 26 of Scandalous Secrets

I looked up and saw her watching me. She looked pleased with herself. It was a confidence I hadn’t seen from her since the night she asked me “…your place or mine?” The memory of it made something churn inside of me. I gave her a single nod and went back to looking busy on my computer, when really I was trying to block the memories of her breasts in my mouth or the way her legs wrapped around me, pulling me deeper.

She hadn’t objected to the dinner.

A few minutes before 10 o’clock, she joined me outside my office and we strolled down to the conference room at the other end of the hall. I told her about the potential investor and everything I had read up on him, from dating history to life growing up to previous investments.

“How do you know all of this? You seem to know everything about every single client we meet with,” she said, raising a brow between taking notes.

“You have to do your research with these types of things. You have to know their past and present. What makes them tick. What gets them going. It’s the only way you’ll earn their trust, and once you have that, you have to know what gets them excited. Investing is not only about making smart moves, it’s about acting on feeling.”

She bit her lip as she soaked in what I was saying, unsure of it all. It took all I had inmenot to act on feeling.

“That.” I pointed to her mouth.

“What?” she asked, her brows drawing together.

“I thought I told you not to do that.”

It sounded like such an asshole demand, but it was for her own good. For my own good.

She pressed her lips together tightly and went back to writing notes on the yellow pad of paper in her hands, but I saw the corner of her mouth pull slightly into a smile. I couldn’t afford to be distracted in front of a possible new client. I also hated the idea of another man lusting after that perfect mouth, which was coated in a blush pink gloss today.

The meeting went well. We signed the client. He was a younger guy who unexpectedly came into money after his uncle passed away. It was a sad story, but it led him to me and I was all the more richer for it. Monica played her part of assistant well, listening and taking notes. It was important for her to see how these things worked. She also showed a sympathy I couldn’t when the guy talked about his uncle passing. He ate it right up, but I saw how his eyes wandered to the edge of her blouse. He didn’t look all that sad anymore.

“You did good in there,” I said as we walked back toward my office.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“I think you distracted him enough for him to throw in a couple more hundred grand.”

“Is that what I am? A distraction?”

“You might be sometimes. Not purposefully. Don’t take offense to it. I just don’t think men can help it when you’re around.”

I swore I saw her cheeks flush.

“You were smart, too. Professional. Thank you.” I wanted her to know she wasn’t just a pretty thing to look at, as I was coming to find out.

The rest of the day dragged on. Knowing there was dinner and time alone dangled like a carrot at the end of the day. When dinner did finally come, I got my usual corner booth in the restaurant, and Monica sat as far away from me as possible. There was a palpable tension between us in the black leather U-shaped booth. I watched as she intently looked at the menu, as if she was studying for an exam.

“The lobster is good,” I suggested.

“Mmm,” she said, not looking up from her menu.

“Are you up for wine?”

“We are still on the clock,” she said, finally meeting my gaze with a shake of her head.

I shrugged and gave her an innocent smile. “We deserve it. It was a long day.”

I watched something come over the doubt in her gaze. “Fine.” She rolled her eyes.

I waved over the waiter, not wanting to miss this chance, and ordered a bottle of white wine and two orders of surf and turf. When the food came out sizzling on two large plates, we were already a bottle deep. I guessed I wasn’t the only one with nerves.

Monica giggled as she tried to pry the meat from the gigantic lobster tail in front of her.

“Are you drunk?” I asked with a smirk.

“Never,” she answered, unable to hide her smile.

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