Page 22 of Rival Desires

His words pricked like a cactus, making me bristle. The thought of Rylee with other men stirred up a storm of emotions I’d rather avoid.

I tossed my crumpled napkin on my empty plate. “No point in dwelling on it,” I said, standing to tidy the table. “Mrs. Seaworth’s playing her cards close to her chest. She hasn’t made up her mind yet. But I’m gearing up for a showdown for her account. Been working my butt off since Monday, crunching numbers and whipping up spreadsheets. It’s all on your desk, ready for your big meeting with her.”

Fury knitted his brow, “Why am I meeting Mrs. Seaworth? You’ve already got a foot in the door.”

I gave him a look that could kill. If I weren’t elbow-deep in dishes, I would’ve flipped him the bird.

He chuckled, “I’m just yanking your chain. I planned to step in unless you two were really hitting it off.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered.

“Could’ve happened. You scrub up good,” he teased, flashing a grin. “When you actually put in the effort, that is.”

“You know what’s bugging me about Rylee?” I interjected, eager to steer the conversation in a different direction. “It’s not just that she’s easy on the eyes, but she’s got some serious brains too. Starting her own company? That takes some serious smarts. Or is she just the pretty face of it all? I seem to recall reading something about her dad’s firm in Sacramento being a big deal.”

This whole thing had been bugging me. If Rylee’s flirtations were just a ploy to score accounts without delivering the goods, we would’ve heard some grumbling by now. But nobody was saying they were losing money. It was still early days, but she seemed to know her stuff.

And that annoyed me to no end. It meant she didn’t need to play those games to succeed. But I couldn’t entertain Fury’s suggestion that Rylee might not be playing those games at all.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like her, you sure do talk about her a lot,” Fury said, flashing a grin.

“I’m talking about her because she’s fucking with our business,” I retorted as I snagged the dish towel to dry a plate.

Fury shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe, maybe not.”

I was about to lay into him with my rebuttal when a knock on my door cut me off. I tossed the towel at Fury and headed out of the kitchen.

I swung the door wide open, wishing I could hit the rewind button the moment I did. There was Becky, beaming brighter than the sun and holding a batch of cookies like she was thequeen of baked goods. I just stood there, stunned, trying to wrap my head around her nerve and the fact that she’d brought sweets.

“Well, hey there,” she chimed as if finding me at home was the most unexpected thing in the world.

She didn’t waste a second before her eyes landed on Fury. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had company, Cory,” she said, trying to act all casual.

I’d been hoping to dodge any uncomfortable moments, but Fury had other ideas. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself ‘just company,’” he said and stood, a smirk playing on his lips. “Cory and I are family.”

Becky gave me a look, and with a sigh, I nodded. Explaining our tangled family tree was more of a hassle than it was worth.

“Fury Gracen,” he introduced himself, offering a handshake to Becky. Still beaming, Becky set the cookie jar on the table and shook his hand. “Becky Scheinberg. I’m always right under Cory.”

Fury choked back a laugh that he tried to pass off as a cough, and I shot him a glare that could kill. My scowl only seemed to amuse him more. Not wanting him to embarrass Becky by pointing out her unintentional double entendre, I moved to the table where she’d placed the cookies.

“Here, let me find a box for these,” I said, trying to keep things from going sideways.

“No worries, just keep the jar,” Becky replied with a dismissive wave. “I know where to find you if I need it back.”

I grabbed the cookies and hurried off to clear some space on the counter.

“So, you’re just downstairs?” Fury asked, clearly intrigued.

“Yep, apartment 202. Right beneath this one,” Becky confirmed, tapping her foot on the floor. “Thankfully, the soundproofing’s top-notch, or I’d be privy to all Cory’s wild parties.”

Fury snickered. “Wild parties? You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same Cory?”

Becky let out a full-bellied laugh. “I see what you’re saying. The other day, I tried talking him into a swim, but no dice. All work, no play with this guy.”

Fury shot me a sly wink. “Swimming, huh? I haven’t seen Cory dive in since we were both ankle-biters.”

Becky suddenly lit up. “Oh, wait a second, Fury Gracen. As in Gracen & McCrae? That’s you?”

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