Billionaire With a Twist 2 (11 page)

“After all, he might still be
your son-in-law. I’m not your only daughter.”

Silence fell as the words worked their
way through Mom’s skull.

Then the tears shut off like a faucet,
and she turned to me with the biggest smile she had ever directed
toward me. And that included college graduation.

“Oh, Allison! Who ever would have
thought you had it in you? I told you that job of yours was the
perfect way to meet eligible men!”

Yep, there went the Mom Express,
rewriting history as fast as the speed of sound.

“Well, now this means I simply
must meet his parents, that will help cement things, we can’t
have him trying to slip out of this one! And with your complexion
we’ll have to
completely
change the color scheme of the
bridesmaid’s dresses, and the house I was eyeing down the block
is all wrong, you’ll have to knock out the back wing and redo
the floors completely, thankfully I’ll be right here to offer
advice—”

Whoa whoa whoa. Rescuing Paige’s
bacon was one thing, but I sure as hell had not signed up for this
roller coaster.

I held out my hand like a traffic cop.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re…seeing
each other, but it’s not official, and we’re definitely
not at the stage of discussing marriage plans, okay?”

Mom looked at me with wide eyes, a
wounded look suggesting that I had said I was not at the stage where
we were discussing not murdering puppies. “But whyever aren’t
you discussing it? Don’t you want to make it work? Aren’t
you thinking about your future?”

I opened my mouth to reply—

And realized I didn’t know what
to say.

Hunter was hot. There was no denying
it. Just thinking about him could make my breaths come shorter, my
pussy grow wet. Being in the same room with him—I couldn’t
keep away. Being without him—I missed him like I would miss one
of my own limbs.

And more than that—he was a
sweet, considerate, mind-blowingly skilled lover, and an ambitious,
driven, decent man. He saw my talent and gave it its due. He had
introduced me to new places, new experiences. He supported me.

But could I ever make it—could I
ever make
us
—work, long-term?

Could I even make it work short-term,
with so much at stake in my career?

We were both such busy people, working
on things that we cared so much about, that we weren’t going to
want to stop devoting so much time to. He would never ask me to give
up my career in advertising, and likewise, I could never ask him to
give up Knox Liquors.

And besides, I knew so little about
him, only the tidbits he had seen fit to share with me. There were
still huge gaps in my knowledge of his life. Did I even really know
if he was a person I wanted to share my life with?

Mom was still waiting expectantly for
an answer to her question. So was Paige.

I did the best I could.

“Yes….?”

The moment I arrived at the estate for
the anniversary party, I saw that Paige had outdone herself. She’d
gone for a cool vintage bootlegging theme, and the grounds were
twenties-style tails and flapper dresses as far as the eye could see.
A jug band played over by the manor house, a hot jazz quartet further
down by the stables. There was an open bar, and waiters darted and
dived between the crowds of chattering guests, offering deep fried
apple-pie-on-a-stick and vintage cocktails.

I had ducked into my cabin as quickly
as I could before anyone saw me in my distinctly un-period blue jeans
and Rave Boys T-shirt, and after a quick shower, was now changing
into a flapper dress of my own. I didn’t really have the slim,
near-boyish figure for it, but I loved the way the grey silk slid
along my skin, and the hand-beading and embroidery on the hem were to
die for.

Also, any outfit with which you get to
wear a hat with an ostrich feather in it is a win.

Arms encircled me from behind. “Well,
don’t you look scrumptious.”

I jumped before the fact that it was
Hunter’s voice penetrated my brain. “You asshole! You
scared me half to death!” Despite my harsh words, I relaxed
back into his arms, savored the feel of him. God, I hadn’t
realized how much I’d missed him until this very moment. “What
are you doing here? I thought you needed to get ready—”

“I couldn’t stay away,”
he murmured.

And then he kissed me.

It was everything I’d frantically
imagined every night of his absence; his lips hot and demanding, his
hands fisting in the back of my dress, starting to pull it higher—

I twisted out of his grip, panting,
trying desperately to keep a lid on both my emotions and my hormones.
“Oh no you don’t. You are not wrinkling this dress five
minutes before I have to go out there.”

Hunter raised his hands like a suspect
surrendering to the police, then leaned in, his tongue tracing a lazy
figure eight on my neck, the sensitive skin there tingling under his
touch.

“What if I say ‘please?’”
he whispered against my hammering pulse.

It just might be worth it…
no!

I pulled away again, shaking my finger
at him. “You, Hunter Knox, are the devil himself.”

“I’ll take that as a
compliment,” he said, tucking his hands into his trouser
pockets with a satisfied smile. Then his face went serious. “I
would never ruin your big day for you.”

“I appreciate that,” I
said, and I meant it.

We grinned at each other like fools for
a few seconds. Damn, but that man looked good in a tux, even an
old-school one.

“You nervous?”

“And excited,” I said. “But
yeah, nervous too, for the big unveiling of the new branding and
film. My boss is in from D.C.,
his
boss is in from New York;
everything’s riding on this.”

Hunter took my hand and squeezed it.
“It’s going to be great.”

And looking into his eyes, seeing his
belief in me, I believed that too.

#

We joined the party with a discreet
distance between us, trying to make it less obvious that we
were…whatever we were. But how could it not be obvious?
Couldn’t everyone see the electricity crackling between us? I
felt like a little girl trying to hide a broken cookie jar behind her
back.

Paige swooped in out of nowhere for a
quick hug. “Oh Ally, I’m so glad I caught you! Best of
luck, I know you’re going to be brilliant!” Then her gaze
caught on something else, and she was off again: “Martin, I
told you and I told you, that shade of mauve is
completely
period-inappropriate—”

I spotted Martha over by the bar and
gave her a wave. She gave me a friendly wave back before zeroing in
on a hot guy and moving in for the kill. The guy didn’t look
like he minded being her metaphorical prey one little bit.

And then I saw the Douchebros, palling
around with what looked like most of the board.

Well, not everything could be all
roses.

“Nice outfit, Ally,” Chad
sneered. “Did you spend half as much time on your rebranding as
your make-up?”

Hunter growled, and not in the sexy
way. I held up a hand in a barely perceptible signal, restraining
him.

I could see the Douchebros jockeying
each other, eager to see my reaction. They wanted me to explode, to
look emotional and unstable in front of the board members.

Instead, I gave Chad a look as blank as
a wiped whiteboard. “I don’t get it. Why is that funny?
Explain it to me.”

Chad sniggered. “You know.”

“I do not,” I said in my
best robot monotone. “Explain why that joke is funny. Spell it
out.”

“Uh, er…” Chad
floundered, seeming to realize for the first time that over half of
the board members surrounding him were women. “Uh…”

One of the board members, Ms. Standish,
interrupted with a tight smile. “While he’s searching for
words, perhaps we could have some, Miss Bartlett. I was most
intrigued by some of your propositions when we last spoke, and my own
nonprofit is looking to revamp our ad campaign strategy, perhaps you
and your company…”

She guided me away, still expounding on
her plans, leaving the Douchebros with mouths agape.

Victory was sweet.

#

An hour later, I was on top of the
world. Ms. Standish had all but signed a contract after our
conversation, and now Hunter was about to take the stage and
officially introduce the real reason we were all gathered here today.
I was going to enjoy this much more than the original plan where
Chuck did the introductory remarks; in addition to having a boatload
less charisma, he also was significantly less easy on the eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, honored
guests.” The microphone made Hunter’s sweet molasses
voice boom across to us over the still night air. “It is my
honor to present to you the first page of the first chapter of this
company. Normally, when people say something needs no introduction,
they use that as an excuse to go on introducing it for forty
minutes.”

Polite chuckles drifted across the
grounds.

“But when I say that this piece
needs no introduction—” Somehow, in that huge crowd,
Hunter’s eyes found mine, and held them. “I
mean
it. Ladies and gentlemen, just watch the damn film.”

Genuine laughter this time, quickly
hushed as the audience turned their attentive gazing to the wide
screen behind him. I gazed too, somehow certain that between the last
time I had viewed the reel and now, some terrible flaw had crept in.

It opened with the shot of a sun
rising, the grizzled voice of an old man saying, “First time I
drank Knox bourbon? Well, I reckon they don’t make history
books go back that far. But damn me if that taste ain’t the
same…goes down smooth, like the tears of an angel…”

And then I knew it would be just
perfect.

#

The crowd applauded heavily at the
film’s conclusion, and I scanned them quickly, looking for
allies and enemies. The Douchebros were the only ones not applauding
at all, but besides them I’d estimate at least eighty percent
of the audience was enthusiastic in their response.

We’d done it. We’d really
done it. We’d shown everyone what we could do.

“Thank you!” Hunter called
out over the cheers. “Thank you, everyone, for that wonderful
show of support. Of course, I couldn’t have done it without
Allison Bartlett, a vital proponent of this new branding strategy and
an advertising genius!”

Had I thought I felt good before? It
was nothing compared to how good I felt now.

I flashed a smile up at him and kept
scanning the crowd. Happy face, happy face, intrigued face, intrigued
happy face, concern—concern?

My stomach dropped.

Oh no.

The concerned face belonged to a board
member. And it was right next to a lot of other concerned faces that
also belonged to, you guessed it: board members.

The group was clumped around Ms.
Standish who I had been talking to earlier. I couldn’t hear
what they were saying; even if it hadn’t been so loud, it
looked like they were whispering. Their gestures were urgent but
abbreviated, as if they were trying to keep them from being seen.

I started to make my way casually over,
intending to accidentally-on-purpose interrupt their cabal, but
before I was halfway there they broke apart and tromped over to the
stage, clumping once again around Hunter.

I gave up all pretense of being casual
and increased my speed, trotting over just in time to hear, “We
need to talk to you inside, Mr. Knox.”

“I’m coming too!” I
threw in.

Several of the board members started,
not having seen me, but Ms. Standish just surveyed me and then nodded
shrewdly. “I think that’d be best.”

I followed them inside, wishing I could
take Hunter’s hand for comfort.

What the hell was going on?

#

Chuck.

That goddamn motherfucker Chuck was
what was going on.

He leaned back in Hunter’s
luxurious black leather armchair, sprawling out over it as if he
owned it and everything else in the manor. “It’s quite
simple. We’ve decided to remove Hunter as CEO and go in a
different direction with the rebrand.”

I felt the floor falling out from
underneath me. Anger and disbelief warred in my brain. “No, you
can’t!”

“Damn right you can’t,”
Hunter snapped, his fury cold and hard. “What the hell are you
thinking springing this, Chuck?”

A board member shuffled her feet
nervously. “This does seem a bit sudden, Charles. Perhaps if we
took some time to reconsider…”

Chuck sighed regretfully. “You
know I can’t do that, Irma. Not when the whole future of the
company could be at stake.”

Irma sighed and looked back down again,
cowed.

“There are rules, Chuck,”
Hunter said, his voice ice. “There has to be a majority vote,
there has to be a good reason—”

“There’s the very best of
reasons,” Hunter said. “Oh, you tried to bury it, but
Allison’s colleagues very obligingly dug it up for me. Remember
Slade, Inc.?”

Hunter went still.

What had the Douchebros done now?

“The board doesn’t have
your sterling memory, of course,” Chuck went on. “So I
refreshed it, in the emergency meeting we had just now. Showed them
all the evidence, all the meeting notes and memorandums which that
young Chad fellow so enterprisingly fished up, all detailing how you
drove that company into the ground in your reckless need to prove you
were worth something out of the shadow of your grandfather. And you
did it the same way you’re doing it to Knox, refusing to listen
to the concerns of your board while proceeding with a costly
advertising strategy that will strangle Knox Liquors like a noose and
utterly deplete the profit margins.”