Vindictive Heir - Page 9

I gather my wits and step into the hall, taking the few steps that lead me into the larger, primary conference room. I circle the end of the conference room table and set everything down in front of the first chair. The stack finally loses its balance and slides off the laptop with a clatter.

Using both hands, I rearrange everything to my liking. What would Bill think of me now? Oh, I need to get things rolling for Monday. “I need to take care of some arrangements for Bill, so I’ll need a few minutes.” I pick up my phone, doing my best to ignore him. “If you’d like to get yourself a drink, there’s a kitchenette down the hall where you came in and to the right.”

This time, I do see the knowing look in his eyes. “Trying to get rid of me so soon?” he teases.

The slight trembling of my hand irritates me to no end. “You can sit and wait, if you prefer.” I wave my hand to cover the dozen chairs on that side of the table. Any little bit of space I can put between us is a win. “But I’ve got to make these arrangements for Monday’s visit. Corporate invited staff and all our vendors to announce the sale and introduce the new owner.”

I’m not sure, but I swear I see him grimace.

* * *

Addler

Elena takes her sweet time working on the setup for Monday. Though it may not be through any fault of her own. When she gave them the head count, whoever was on the phone left her waiting. They didn’t put her on hold because I can hear the background noise all the way over here. The woman eventually comes back on the line.

“Then let me call you back in a few minutes to give you a chance to ask. That way, I can work on scheduling the venue.” Her lips tighten just enough to show she’s not happy with the reply. She pulls the phone away from her ear and dials another number. Her gaze is set somewhere to my left, likely to avoid looking directly at me. I have the urge to roll in that direction, just to have her glare at me.

I grab my cell. Going through email will distract from the fact I’m watching her. There’s no denying she’s not happy with having to deal with me. No question about it. But she’ll do what she has to because Bill will have asked her to fill in while he’s out. And she always looks after Bill.

A man in FRs, fire-retardant clothing required to work in the field, walks up to the doorway to the right. He stays a couple of steps away from the doorway, a stack of paper in hand. It’s not far enough back to hide the way his gaze runs down to Elena’s jean-clad ass. He has the balls to cock his head as he stares for an extra second.

More than long enough for jealousy to twist my gut into a knot.

Is this the kind of shit she gets every time? How many fuckers come through on any given day? And do they all come looking for her.

The son of a bitch strides in like he doesn’t have a damn care in the world. He nods in my direction then smiles as she turns to face him. “Miss Elena,” he says in a low voice, recognizing that she’s on a call, “I’m going to leave these invoices here for you.” He sets them down next to her computer.

How fucking accommodating of him.

“Thank you,” she whispers back.

“Call me if you have questions on the coding.”

“I will.”

Again, his attention lingers a lot longer than it should. Long enough for me to figure out three different ways to rip his head off and shove it up—

“This is Elena Santos, from Kelly Oil & Gas. I need to talk to you about reserving the community center for Monday…” Her voice is carefully neutral as she leaves a voice mail for whomever she’s trying to contact. Meanwhile, the guy turns and walks back the way he came in.

I don’t like it. Not the way he looked at her, not how many men she’s around, and not the fact they could think she’s up for grabs. That shit’s gonna get fixed one way or another.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, putting the phone to one side as she settles into the chair. “Sometimes it’s impossible to get ahold of these people.” She presses her lids closed, as if gathering patience, then gets up again. Leaning over the table, she pushes down on the wire management grommets to fish out a cable. The jerky movements offer a hell of a view of her chest, improving my mood.

“Would you like me to call?” I ask, completely serious.

She flips her gaze up to me, narrowing her eyes. “No. I’m fine.” She pulls the HDMI cable to her laptop and plugs it in. She glances to the monitors on the adjacent walls. Nothing happens. She blows out an exasperated breath. “Let me go find some help.” She’s halfway to the end of the table when the screens turn on.

“There you go.”

She glances around while I take a second to admire the view. Her stance offers a half-profile shot of that mouthwatering rack and an ass that would fill my hands. A quick flashback fills my mind. I wanted her to come stand between my legs while I was sitting on a stool. I’d have my hands full, and, with it being Elena, it was in every sense of the word.

Just like that, my cock is stiff. I guess some things never change when it comes to her.

Turning on a heel, she comes back to her chair. She takes a deep breath and picks up her phone again. “Let me check on the food order.”

Footsteps echo down the hall behind me. Another admirer?

“Elena,” Security says from behind me. “I have some invoices for you.”

Tags: Sahara Roberts Billionaire Romance
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