At least she’d spoken up for herself. It was hard, I could tell. Even when she’d been furious at me the day before when she’d found out that I was her anonymous hookup, she’d fought to leave instead of confront me. Because she was always afraid to stand up for herself. And why? That I’d like to know.
I wanted to smack the crap out of whoever had done that to her, made her feel like she wasn’t worthy of standing up for herself. Because whoever did it was a bastard, son-of-a-bitch or an asshole. Possibly all of the above. I stayed up long hours thinking about it—thinking about her—until I pulled out my tablet and queued up a movie to watch. Sometime around three a.m., I finally passed out.
The wake-up call came too early the next morning, and I washed the sleep out of my eyes and got ready. The next time I saw her was in a room backstage as other speakers went through their spiels. She was wearing a sheer white blouse that clung to her curves and a pair of form-fitting black pants that made her look as alluring as ever. Forcing myself to focus, I opened up my laptop, preparing to hand it over to the AV guy who would copy my file onto the presentation computer so they could display my slides.
But when I fired up the presentation, my stomach dropped. “Motherfucker,” I muttered.
She was at my side in an instant, and I was assailed with the scent of honey. “What? What’s wrong?”
I slammed my laptop shut so she wouldn’t see. “I copied the wrong slides.”
She frowned, her eyes still on my laptop. “Wrong slides? What do you mean?”
“My placeholders—for brainstorming and stuff. It’s an earlier copy of the same presentation.”
She shrugged and peered up at me. “It’s the dress rehearsal. We can get the real slides copied over later once we log into the Draco VPN from the hotel room.”
“I can’t use these slides.”
“You already know what you’re going to say, right? Just use the placeholders.”
I blew out a breath and ran a hand through my hair. Then, by way of explanation, I opened my laptop and gestured to the screen.
It flickered back to life and the first slide came up.
Her eyes grew round. She straightened, throwing glances around the room. “Why do you have pictures of naked women on your placeholder slides?”
I gritted my teeth. “It was for brainstorming purposes. It helps me think.”
There was a brief moment when she looked like she was about to bust a gut laughing, but she contained it. “I’m sure all the guys here would love those slides. Are these your ladyloves?”
I glared at her. “No.”
“So where is the real presentation stored on the Draco Network?”
“In my work folder.”
“You mean, the same one I’ve been saving all that crap work you’ve been giving me to do?”
“Yeah, that one. But I left the dongle with the code to be able to log into the VPN at the hotel.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know what you could use?”
“Besides a fifth of Jack?”
She smiled and reached into her bag. “No. A really smart assistant who preemptively copies your work folder over from the company network before you travel in case you do something stupid like bring porn slides for the rehearsal.” She triumphantly brandished a flash drive in her hand and presented it to me.
The tightness in my chest loosened in relief. “I could kiss you.”
Something flashed in those beautiful blue eyes, but her mouth thinned. “Mr. Fawkes, you are being inappropriate.” She smirked at me and I was reminded of that godawful sexual harassment seminar. Our own private little joke, then.
“How about a raise?”
“I’m an unpaid intern,” she deadpanned.
“Exactly.” I grinned. “It won’t cost me anything.” She grimaced and playfully mimed an uppercut punch to my gut. “Try a sucker punch to the kidneys, Weiss. Much more effective.”
I plugged the flash drive into the USB port to open the files. She bent over the computer right beside me—standing far too close for my comfort or equilibrium. I was beginning month two of Friar Jordan’s New Law of Celibacy, which meant I was horny as hell and focused on all the stunning physical attributes of every woman I came into contact with, particularly this woman.
I noticed that she was silently laughing beside me.
“You keep laughing at my misfortunes, Weiss, and I’ll make you pay for that later.”
Her dark blue eyes cut to mine and there was something there...heat, maybe? “Promises, promises,” she said in a low voice. Yup, definitely heat.