Page 14 of Merging with the Billionaire

“Can we talk? I figured it would be best do so alone without so many prying eyes.”

All the work Tiffany had put into preparing herself for the rest of the party was ruined the moment she heard Conrad’s voice. Her body started shaking, the hall started to tilt, and the air was sticky and hot around her. How was it that Conrad had this effect on her? Was he stressing her out so much, she was going to pass out? Was this a stroke? Whatever was going on, she needed to get as far away from him as possible to make it stop. “There’s nothing to talk about. I need to get back inside,” Tiffany asserted, trying to step past him.

Conrad moved to the left, stopping her escape route. “Why did you take off like that? I thought we were having a good time?”

“That dance was Celeste’s and my mother’s stupid idea. I should have never let it happen,” Tiffany snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

“No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to dismiss what was happening between us, what could have happened if you hadn’t run away. I’m beginning to see that’s a pattern of yours, when you don’t like how something is going, you walk away from it. I’ve seen you do it at work. I won’t let you do it with me.”

“Listen, I have to go, Conrad. If you want to continue to scold me about how unprofessional I am, you’ll have to do it at the office on Monday. It’s Christmas for goodness sakes.”

Tiffany pushed past Conrad, angry at him beyond belief. She wasn’t sure why, but he irritated and intrigued her in equal parts. One moment she wanted to slap the conceited expression off his face, and the next she wanted to kiss it away.

“Not so fast,” he barked to her retreating figure. Tiffany felt his hand reach out and grab her, forcing her to turn around and face him. “I have something else to say to you. I resent your uppity demeanor; like you shouldn’t have to deal with anything you don’t want to.”

“Well, I resent your take-charge attitude; how you try to own the room whenever you walk into it,” she spat back at him, twisting her hands into the lapels of his suit jacket and looking up into his eyes.

“And, I resent your rich girl ways. How you’re constantly oblivious as to how lucky you are to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth,” he retorted, roughly pulling her towards him and letting his lips drift down until they were mere inches from her own.

“Well, I resent your smugness; how you think you’re superior to everyone around you,” she snidely rebuked, closing the final distance between them.

She wanted him to kiss her. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself.

His lips came down on hers, hard and strong. Not a tender kiss, but one built strictly from pent-up passion and desire. It had been a long time coming, both resisting what had been simmering below their supposedly platonic business relationship.

Tiffany felt herself give into Conrad, her body yielding to his as he deepened the kiss. Sparks of electricity ignited around them, pushing everything else aside except her need to be wanted by this man.

Suddenly, the sound of clapping brought Tiffany back to where they were. If she were caught like this with Conrad, it would ruin any respect she had gained at the company. She had worked too hard for that to happen.

Yanking back, she whispered, “We shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”

Not waiting for Conrad’s response, she took off from the shadows of the hidden hall and made her way into the Christmas party without looking back.

6

To Conrad’s regret,Tiffany had avoided the office between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, choosing to do her work from home and only coming in when Conrad was unavailable. He also knew it was his fault; that he had caused the distance that was now between them. Conrad knew he shouldn’t have said the things he did, and he surely shouldn’t have kissed Tiffany. He wasn’t even sure what possessed him to do it accept that Tiffany was able to get under his skin in a way no other woman ever had. He had been attracted to her before the kiss, but now that he had a sample of how wonderful it felt to have her in his arms and to claim her mouth with his own, all he could do was think about doing it again.

Conrad figured she would get away with avoiding him again for the next couple of days since tomorrow was Roger and Celeste’s New Year’s Eve wedding. As a bridesmaid, he assumed she would be busy helping with last minute details and running interference for the bride and groom.

In the meantime, Conrad had been summoned to see Boswell Senior at his home. The man no longer came into the office, and rarely left his penthouse.

Conrad entered the swanky Upper East apartment building and tried not to shake his head at the old money it exuded, from the starched uniforms of the help, to the pictures of the co-op board made up of old white men. He noticed as he walked through the building, heads turned his way and disapproving looks followed. Conrad was a billionaire, but self-made, and places like this try their best to keep his kind out.

The elevator took him to the top floor of the building. He made his way down the hall and knocked on the door. A uniformed maid answered, ushered him in, and escorted him to a large room filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books and prestigious awards, large overstuffed chairs, and an ornate mahogany desk. Scattered throughout the room were pictures of the Boswell family with notable celebrities and politicians.

In the chair directly behind the desk was Boswell Senior. Conrad recognized him from their previous video conferences about the energy technology merger, though now the oil tycoon looked much older and thinner than Conrad remembered from a few months back.

“Come over here and take a seat,” Boswell Senior ordered. “I’m not sure how long I have before things get foggy again. I want to take care of this before I forget why you’re here.”

Conrad did as he was directed, sitting in a chair across from the older man.

“I heard about what happened between you and my daughter at the Christmas party,” Boswell Senior stated bluntly. “And before you try, there’s no point in denying it. I got my information from a very good source.”

Immediately, warning bells went off in Conrad’s head. Did Boswell Senior call him here today to cancel his contract with Boswell Oil because of what happened between him and Tiffany? Did someone see them? Or worse, did Tiffany tell him?

“I think a man has a right to confront his accuser. Whatever they told you, there’s always two sides to a story.”

“I know that, and for the record, it was my wife. She was heading to the ladies’ room when she saw the two of you kissing.”

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