He slowly nods. “Did I intimidate you?”
“No,” I answer quickly as his hand reaches up and pushes my hair behind my ear. “What are you doing?” I ask in a panic as a wave of chills stumble down my arm from the graze of his finger over my cheek.
“Everyone can see us,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “And since we’re in my office, wouldn’t you think everyone would need to see us together, see us interact, because the main point of this entire farce is so that I can score a deal?”
“Huh,” I say, thinking about it. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
“One thing you need to get straight, Lottie—I always make sense.”
My eyes connect with his. “You’re so narcissistic.”
“Confident,” he replies.
“A cockhole.”
His brows raise. “What the hell is a cockhole?”
“Cocky asshole. Therefore, you’re a cockhole.”
His hand smooths down my ass and back up. I need to hate how that feels, but for some abhorrent reason, I don’t. I don’t mind the feel of his large palm skimming over my backside.
Jesus, Lord help me, there’s something wrong with me.
“So, because I know what I want, how I want it, and when I want it, that makes me a cockhole?” His eyes shift to my mouth and then back up.
Tension builds in the hollow of my chest, a tingling, heavy, throbbing sensation. One I’ve never experienced before.
“No.” I swallow, and for some reason, I look at his mouth for a second, as well. He has great lips. Not too full for a man, but just enough that I know if he ever had to place his mouth on mine, it wouldn’t be a bad kiss. Just from the way he speaks, with such command, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’d be a good kisser. “Not that it matters, because it doesn’t. You’re a cockhole because you don’t treat people with kindness.”
“I see.” His stare is unwavering. “So, let me get this straight, I don’t treat people with kindness. So, what would you say making sure you have a solid mode of transportation is? Or what about the flowers I sent to your mom and Jeff, congratulating them on an empty house?”
He sent them flowers? Mom didn’t say anything.
“Or how about the lengths I went to in my house to ensure you’d be comfortable?”
What lengths?
“Or the meeting I took with your sister today, completely rearranging my schedule so she could pitch to us? What would you call that?”
Uhhh . . .
I’m about to answer, when the conference room door opens. Huxley looks over my shoulder as a female voice says, “I’m so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Cane, but Bower is on line one.”
He nods and says, “Thank you, Karla. I’ll be right there.”
The door swishes shut and Huxley lets go of me, helping me settle on the ground before he stands from his chair and buttons his suit jacket.
Eyes boring into me, he says, “I’ll see you at home.”
He starts to walk away, and I ask, “Wait, what about the meeting?”
“Looks as though you’ve used up my time.”
“What?” I chase after him and move in front of his large body. I can feel eyes on us, eyes from around the company, so I make sure to keep my frustration at bay as I slide my hand up the lapel of his suit jacket. “Huxley, my sister has been preparing for this meeting all day. She’s going to be devastated if she can’t pitch to you.”
“Something you should’ve thought of.”
He goes to move again, but I stop him. “Please, Huxley.”
His eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I see a hint of human inside them. This man really does have a soul. It’s right there, behind the dark chocolate of his hollow eyes.
“I’ll see you at home,” he repeats and moves to the side. “And by the way, if you’re going to help your sister succeed, you should always do your research on every client you go to meet.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“The men sitting with me. They’re my brothers, not associates. And they know everything going on in my life.”
My eyes narrow, and I try to keep it together as I ask, “So I didn’t have to put on an act at all?”
“No, you didn’t. They know exactly who you are and what you’re doing for me, but you’d have known that if you were truly prepared. Perhaps I’ll take another meeting with your sister when you show that you can actually conduct yourself professionally in a business setting.”
Anger shoots to the top of my head as I feel my cheeks darken with embarrassment. “I hate you,” I say with such venom that I can taste my hatred for him on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m well aware of your feelings for me. No need to constantly repeat them.” And with that, he heads out of the conference room, past Kelsey without a second glance, and into the depths of his office. I glance at Kelsey, who stands there alone, her laptop and portfolio in hand, looking absolutely defeated.
And that’s when it hits me hard. I fucked this up for her.
I fucked up really badly.
Kelsey reaches to leave the car, but I grab her arm and stop her. “Please, Kelsey. Please just talk to me.”
She lowers her head and shakes it from side to side. “I don’t even know what to say to you at this moment. I’m so upset, I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”
“I’m sorry, Kelsey. I really am.”
She looks over her shoulder, and I can see the disappointment in her eyes. It cuts through me like razor-sharp glass.
“I understand you’re in a weird position right now. You were fired by someone you thought you trusted, thrust into this odd deal with a very domineering man, a man you don’t particularly get along with, and you’re trying to find your way through this mess. But that doesn’t give you the right to be a martyr.”
“A martyr?” I ask in surprise. “I’m not a martyr.”
“No?” she asks as she turns in her seat to face me. “Because from where I sit, you’re looking pretty cushy at the moment. Not many people are granted the opportunity you’ve been given. Not only are you living in some mansion with an extremely hot man, but you had your college loans paid for, you don’t need to worry about any expenses, and you were granted a chance to live with a businessman who’s a wealth of knowledge. You realize he’s worth billions, Lottie? BILLIONS. He’s built his business from the ground up with his brothers, and instead of capitalizing on that, on his experience, on his expertise in what you spent four years studying in college, you’re inciting him to anger. And you’re hurting the people you love while doing it.”
“It’s not that easy,” I say.
“It’s not easy to lower your guard, see this incredible opportunity at your feet, and be grateful?” she asks. “Because if I were in your position, that’s exactly what I would be.”
“You say that, but you don’t know until you’re in my shoes.”
She nods. “You’re right, I would have no idea what you’re experiencing, but what I do know is that we had a big meeting today, and instead of pushing your ego to the side, it spiked, and you let it take an opportunity from us. When I say this could’ve been big, I meant it, Lottie. Not only is Cane Enterprises worth billions, but they own businesses and real estate all over Los Angeles, and in other states, as well. Meaning, if I were to land an opportunity and they liked what we did, they could have used us not just for their office, but for every property they own. But you didn’t think about that when you were trying to put on some show in the conference room, did you?”
“I had no idea how to act,” I shoot back. “He’s in my head. I don’t know how to approach him, how to . . . treat him.”