G-Men: The Series (111 page)

He was quiet as he studied me for a moment. “Why are you fucking with him like this, Darcy?”

“Because he
lied
to me,” I answered firmly. “He omitted the fact that I looked a lot like the last woman he may have actually
truly
cared for. I mean, yeah, he told me that I wasn’t anything like Lacee…but what about Bianca friggin’ Templeton? And then he just walks out of my life, expecting me to never have figured it out and call him out on that kind of bullshit? Yeah…fuck that
and
fuck him. It’s time a woman takes him down a few pegs.”

“Careful, sweetheart,” Eli replied, as he leaned up against my bedroom dresser, “You’re starting to sound like one of those ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ chicks who sit up in their attic, planning some poor schmuck’s demise.”

I considered that for a good second, looking down at the carpet. “This isn’t about that, Eli,” I finally said. “It’s about being lied to by someone who was clearly using me as a stand-in to…what? Prolong an ended relationship? To use me as some sort of fantasy in bed, so he could fuck ‘the one that got away’?” I looked back over at him.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. And maybe it’s
better
that we don’t know.” He walked over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders, “I don’t get it. One minute, I could swear you love the guy, the next minute you’ve got this “evil vixen” thing going that I can’t comprehend.”

I couldn’t say anything to that.
I
didn’t even fully understand why I was reacting the way I was.

Eli pulled away from me, crossing his arms. “A piece of advice, Darce? When it comes to fucking someone over, don’t fuck with someone who knows how to fuck you harder.”

I dressed in an elegant royal blue dinner dress with matching heels. I put my earrings in and took a final look in the mirror. I was ready. There was a knock on my door. It was Colin.

“I’m heading down to the drawing room for cocktails,” he called from the hall. Easton arrived about twenty minutes ago. If you’re ready, I’d be happy to escort you down, since this house is cavernous; wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

“Be right there.”

Show time!

I saw the quick look of surprise in Colin’s eyes when I opened the door. He quickly masked it, a smile twitching on his lips.

“You look very lovely,” he complimented me. “Shall we?”

Colin led me down the huge staircase.

“We’re having cocktails in the drawing room before dinner,” he advised, leading me down a wide, marble-floored hallway. “After you,” he nodded as we reached the doorway.

I saw him then, his back was to me as he poured amber-colored liquor into a glass with ice, and took a quick drink, pouring another.

Freaking butterflies
, I silently cursed my tummy.

“Good evening, Easton,” I spoke, watching him whirl around to face me. His eyes immediately froze when he saw my changed appearance. I saw a flicker of anger cross his smoky gray eyes, and then a forced smile as he approached us. God, he was gorgeous in his black business suit and white linen dress shirt. His tie was royal blue, nearly the same shade as my dress.

“Good evening Darcy, Colin,” he nodded, setting his drink on the end of the bar.

“Would you care for a drink or a glass of wine, Darcy?”

“Wine would be fine, thank you.”

“Scotch, Colin?”

“On the rocks, please.”

Well, that went smoothly.

There were two love seats facing one another with a large, square cherry-wood table in the middle. The thick Aubusson rug underneath the furniture was 18th century. The grouping was arranged in front of the large, black marble fireplace that was lit. It was still chilly and damp this time of year in London; the crackling warmth of the fire was welcoming. I took a seat on one of the love seats, Colin sat down beside me.

Easton took a seat across from us with his drink in one hand, his free arm resting against the back of the love seat.

“So, the feedback I’ve received from Colin is that you’re progressing very well in your role. Are you finding your position challenging?”

I squirmed a bit, pulling my dress down over my knees as his eyes continued to peruse me.

“It’s been very satisfying. Colin’s been totally patient with me,” I replied, smiling over at him.

“She’s being modest,” Colin replied, sipping his drink. “Darcy’s a natural for this role with significant growth potential. She’s a keeper.”

I blushed at the compliment, trying to determine if there was some hidden meaning to it. Probably just me trying to read something into nothing.

“I’m anxious to critique your presentation after dinner,” Easton replied.

“I’m looking forward to your input,” I said, blushing at my own choice of words and watched as a smile graced his beautiful mouth.

I wonder if Bianca ever blushed.

I took a gulp of my wine, hoping it would start seeping in to calm my nerves. Just as I took another long drink to hurry along the process, Easton broke the silence.

“What the hell have you done to your hair?” he blurted out angrily.

I choked on my wine as soon as his words were out, and then segued into a coughing spell. Colin hurriedly set his drink on the table, moving towards me, his hand smacking my back roughly.

“Really, Easton,” Colin said, clearly irritated, handing me a cocktail napkin. “Are you alright Darcy?” he asked. I nodded my head up and down, the hacking slowly subsided.

“Well?” Easton asked, still waiting for my response.

“I changed my hairstyle,” I retorted angrily. “So what?”

“I don’t think it suits you,” he said in a tone that was just short of a snarl. “Not one bit.”

“Well, I happen to like it,” I snapped back. “I think it suits…me.” I shot him an Oscar-worthy smile.

Clearly, Colin was not comfortable with our exchange.”May I freshen your drink, Easton?” he asked, standing up.

“Please,” Easton replied, holding up his empty glass, not taking his eyes off of me. Colin went to the bar out of direct earshot. Easton leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

“I’d prefer you tone down your make-up as well. Tomorrow afternoon you’ll be representing Baronton-Sheridan at this meeting, not Victoria’s Secret. Your appearance must speak professionalism in a more conservative way.” His gaze was ripping right through me.

“I assure you, I understand appropriate attire. Your critique should be directed toward the presentation I’ve put together. I can handle my appearance; I promise you,” I replied stiffly. This wasn’t going well. I wanted to jump down his throat, but he was the boss and in this situation, that was simply not an option.

“See that it’s handled then,” he responded, taking the drink Colin handed him.

I couldn’t recall whether dinner was good or not. It was just something I managed to get through, rather uncomfortably. I noticed Easton was putting away some alcohol this evening, which was something I hadn’t observed previously, in between tossing glares across the table at me.

Finally, it was time for my presentation. I was ushered into a study off of the main hall that was more like a conference room with all of the media set up, ready to go. Colin clicked a button on a remote and the 19th century oil painting of Scottish moors slid away, revealing the projection screen. He clicked another button and my title page of the presentation illuminated the screen.

Easton was perched at the other end of the long table, leaning back in the black leather chair, one foot propped up on the seat of the chair next to him, his hands clasped behind his head. He had removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to just beneath his elbows. He glanced at his watch, nodding for me to begin.

I commenced my presentation, making sure to throw in some overly enthusiastic model-sashays, as I used the laser pointer very generously when bringing attention to certain elements on the slides. Easton was clearly onto me, because not even five minutes into it, he very loudly and very rudely interrupted.

“No, no, Darcy,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s too hurried. You haven’t put nearly enough build-up into the potential of this new, cutting edge, tracking software prior to introducing it to your audience. The audience needs to be on the edge of their seats before the slide where you announce ‘Night Moves.’ Didn’t you consider it important for them to know there’s nothing out there remotely similar? What about the fact that it’s been under development for nearly five years? You’ve shown no stats for the beta testing that was conducted. And, what’s with all the flailing of your arms when showing the slides? Your audience is not interested in seeing what’s behind Door #3 here. This is a
technical
sales pitch, not a fucking
game
show.”

Colin spoke up in my defense. “Easton, you were provided electronic copy of the slide presentation days ago. We even discussed it on the phone before Darcy and I made the trip here. You didn’t say anything about having issues with it until now.”

Easton ran his hands through his dark hair, clearly agitated. I took comfort in the fact that this probably had nothing to do with my presentation at all, but rather the way I kept baiting him.

He rubbed his eyes then looked up. “Colin, you go ahead and take off. Spend tomorrow and the weekend with Veronica, you’ve earned it. I’ll work with Darcy tonight to get this problem fixed. I’ll go with her to the presentation tomorrow afternoon and, if I don’t feel she’s adequately prepped, then I’ll present. You deserve a few days off, take them.”

Colin looked back and forth between us. He seemed reluctant to leave me in the hands of a very irritated Easton.

“If you’re sure,” he said.

“I am. Send my regards to Veronica.”

Colin nodded, wished me a good-night and left.

“Now Ms. Sheridan, let’s get busy. We’ve work to do here.”

^{chapter 24}

As it turned out, my presentation wasn’t nearly the disaster Easton had implied. We spent about two hours rearranging the order of the slides and created a couple more up front to draw out the anticipation of the long-awaited ‘Night Moves’ tracking technology. It was trademarked as “tomorrow’s tracking technology—TODAY!”

Pom-poms not included!

I’d never been so glad to distance myself from Easton as I was an hour ago when he finally agreed the presentation was ready. I mumbled an obligatory ‘good-night’ and headed up the grand staircase to my suite. I showered quickly, scrubbing off all of the eye make-up which he’d clearly detested. Crawling under the warm covers of the Victorian canopy bed felt like heaven. I was totally exhausted. Thankfully, I could sleep late, since our appointment wasn’t until 2:30 p.m. tomorrow.

I’d been asleep for a while when I felt his hands on me. At first, I thought I was dreaming, until I felt his breath on the back of my neck. His hands were on my hips, gently massaging them as I slept on my side. His torso was pressed up against me. I felt his rock-hard erection. My body tingled in pleasure, until I came fully awake, realizing my mistake was allowing him to continue.

I sat up abruptly.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. The light filtering in from the lamp I’d left on in the sitting room shed enough light so that I could see him. He was disheveled, but that only served to make him more appealing, for some odd reason. He needed a shave. His hair was tousled and his eyes were shuttered.