The Bishop Affair (Dominated by the Billionaire Brothers - Part Four) (6 page)

I sensed some intrigue. “So
what’s going on with you two? You stayed over at his place already.”

Our waiter walked over with
a martini that we hadn’t ordered.

“Compliments of the
gentleman sitting by the bar,” he said, setting the glass on the table without
spilling a single drop.

We both craned our necks
around the other side of the restaurant to see a hairy guy waggle his tongue
lewdly at Sam. She snorted.

“Tell him thanks, but no
thanks,” she said. “I can buy my own drinks. Two more bottles of Sapporo,
please.” The waiter nodded as he collected the martini and bustled away.

“Look at you,” I said,
surprised. Sam liked to party and usually wasn’t one to pass up a free drink.
“Are you that serious about Anthony?”

She shrugged. “He’s nice
enough.”

We watched as the hairy guy
received his returned gift from our waiter, downed it in one gulp, and walked
away without looking at us. We redirected our attention back to our
conversation.

“You sound excited about
Anthony,” I said sarcastically.

She took a sip from her
glass of water. “I’m trying to see if we’d work, but I’m not sure I’m feeling
it. I wish I was a little better with men,” she said, catching a view out the
window before returning her gaze to me.

Sam’s jaw-dropping looks
almost made me take her comment as a joke. But she sounded serious. “What do
you mean? Guys throw themselves at you all the time.”

“Like Mr. Hairy at the bar
earlier?” She scoffed. “You think I like that kind of attention?”

“I think it would be kind of
flattering,” I said thoughtfully.

“Oh, Lori,” Sam shook her
head. “I know this might make me sound bad...but I don’t want just any guy who
shows me the least bit of attention. I want to be with someone who’s smart,
leads a fulfilling life, is financially secure, emotionally mature...”

“Do you ask for résumés from
your suitors?”

“Ha, ha,” she said drily. “I
realize I set high expectations, but why settle for something less? Especially
if you’re going to be with them for a long time. Of course, landing Mr. Perfect
is probably less likely for me than winning the lottery.”

Poor Sam. She didn’t have a
lick of makeup on but she still looked incredible, drawing quite a few long
glances from men in the restaurant. If she really liked Anthony, she’d be
gushing. Instead, she was going on about her ideal man. Maybe Anthony wasn’t
the one for her.

I wanted to prod her on the
topic of her unsuccessful love life, but sensed she didn’t want to talk about
it.

She shook her head quickly
as if to free her mind from something. She smiled at me and downed the fresh
beer the waiter brought over.

Her sudden laughter after
she put the bottle down surprised me. “My first week at Blackhouse &
Stevens, they had us sitting through dull orientation sessions. Your first week
was
much
more exciting.”

“I can’t really say I’m
looking forward to going to work tomorrow after the weekend I had.”

“That’s why you need to set
goals to distract yourself from the less than professional stuff that’s been
going on. Dr. Phil agrees with me.”

I voiced my agreement as the
waiter brought us our check and some japanese mints. Sam was right: Bishop
Corp. was a large company with a lot of different opportunities. If I wanted to
nail down something more stable than my temporary position as a personal
assistant and make something out of myself independent of a man—no matter how
mind-blowingly gorgeous he was—I was going to have to start working for it.

As the elevator doors rolled
open at the twenty-sixth floor of the Bishop Building, I put on a bright smile.
Sam had given me another pep talk before I left the apartment that morning,
French-braiding my hair into a sweeping bun and telling me that I was strong
and driven. She had even let me borrow her favorite pair of heels.

A few people looked up as I
strode by, smiling in return. Sam was right—it was all about being in a
positive state of mind. If I felt like I could do something, it became easier
to do so. I promised myself that I would look into other opportunities at
Bishop Corp. if I had any free time today. And while I was working, I’d be
focusing on performing my best.

Today was going to be a good
day. I was going to put this weekend behind me and romantic feelings for my
boss on the backburner. I wasn’t ready for a relationship right now and Jordan
was going to have to understand that.

Rounding the corner to the
cozy alcove I referred to as the “Bishop Den”, I was happy to see Susan at her
desk, staring down her nose and typing away on the computer. It seemed like
forever last time I saw her. She brightened up when she spotted me.

“Happy Monday, Lori,” she
chirped, setting her glasses on top of her hair.

“Happy Monday right back.
How was your weekend?”

“Vegas was delightful,” she
said excitedly.

I slapped my forehead. I’d
forgotten she’d had to go to Las Vegas with Trevor—in my place. She didn’t look
traumatized, and I figured she’d been able to keep all of her panties during
the two days.

“I take it the trip went
well?” I asked.

“Well, it went well for me.
Not so much for Trevor,” she said, lowering her voice a little bit. “Watch out
for him today. He’s in a terrible mood. The business side didn’t go as smoothly
as expected.”

“The meeting had something
to do with the merger, right?”

She nodded somberly. “He met
with the stunning Waylon Lavoisier—probably the only person in the world more
driven than Trevor.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “Of course, don’t
tell him I told you that.”

“My lips are sealed.” I
mimed zipping them closed. “Lavoisier. I’ve seen that name before.”

“Probably,” she said. “He’s
the head of Hyperion Media, the company that’s trying to buy us out.”

“Oh, yeah. Big-time merger
business.” I’d typed that name plenty of times while compiling notes from the
Bishops’ meetings.

“Definitely big time...But
not as big time as the three hundred bucks I won!” She put up her hand to
high-five me.

I returned the gesture,
delighted by her energy. “That’s awesome, Susan! How did you manage that?”

“Poker, Texas hold ’em
style.” She put her fingers up in the air shooting guns like a cowgirl.

“Really?” I raised my
eyebrows, imagining Susan holed up in a smoky bar, a green visor shielding her
eyes from the overhead light. It was hard to picture.

“What, didn’t see me as a
poker player? Don’t tell me you thought I won that dough on slots. Slots are
for boring grandmas.”

I laughed. I didn’t feel
guilty anymore for her stepping in to go with Trevor to Vegas. She seemed to
have suffered no ill effects from the trip—even coming out ahead.

I turned to go to my desk to
assess the kind of work I’d have to wade through when I almost ran directly
into Jordan. My smile swiftly faded as his musky cologne enveloped me. It
beckoned memories of long kisses, the way his arms felt around me, how he felt
inside me...

“Good morning, Lori.” He
smiled at me briefly.

He looked tired—stressed
out, even. But the circles underneath his gray-green eyes still didn’t affect
how incredibly handsome he was.

“Hello.” I blushed as my
voice cracked embarrassingly. I breathed in deeply

through my nose, trying to
remember that we were just friends now.
I’m strong, I’m driven.

“How was the rest of your
weekend?” he asked.

“It was fine,” I said as
breezily as I could. I had to keep reminding myself that he was my boss, not my
boyfriend. I wanted to remain polite and professional.

“That’s good.” He looked
down at his hands and then back up again quickly, seeming like he suddenly
remembered why he was talking to me.

“Could you please type up
these notes for me?” He handed over the sheaf of papers. “Please make them your
priority—they’re pretty important.”

“Of course,” I said,
straightening them. “I’ll get to it right away.”

“Okay.” We both tried to
pass each other on the same side and awkwardly danced back and forth for a
moment until he laughed lightly and bowed, indicating with his hand which way I
should go.

Blushing wildly, I darted
toward my desk. Maybe I should expect for our working relationship to be
awkward for a while. After all, I was the one who friend-zoned him.

The notes were definitely
merger related, I noticed when I opened up my computer and started typing the
first one. I was beginning to get a little more interested in the whole
process. The brothers were definitely consumed with it, as was our entire
company.

I’d made it about halfway
through the transcriptions when my desk phone rang.

“This is Lori.”

“It’s Trevor.” His icy voice
sent a shiver down my spine. “Meet me in my office.” The phone clicked and the
dial tone sounded. No “please” or “goodbye.”
Typical.

I sat the receiver onto its
cradle and nervously patted my hair. What could he possibly want? Our last
encounter had ended with me down a pair of panties and then in tears, banging
on his office door after he’d left for the day.

I didn’t need a repeat of
that.

I marked my place in the
notes with a Post-it and stood up warily. I snatched a pen and pad of paper
from my desk drawer. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on my face, I
remembered Sam’s pep talk and walked down the hall to Trevor’s office. Before I
could have any second thoughts, I knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

I pushed the heavy door
open, remembering to step out of my shoes immediately upon entering. The
lighting was low, like always, and Trevor was seated behind his desk, typing
furiously on a slim laptop. His tie was thrown back over his shoulder and his
suit jacket hung on the back of his leather office chair. A few loose strands
from his usual slicked back style, hung by his cheek. He was off perfection
today which made him even more endearing. Gone without seeing him for days,
having him in the flesh now stole my breath. Where did these Bishops get their
good looks from, anyway? Both of them were beyond dreamy.

Trevor looked up, not
pausing in his typing, and smiled.

“Have a seat.”

Clutching my pen and pad of
paper, I tried to will away my blush as I padded across the rug. Trevor shut
the laptop with a snap and watched me, smile not leaving his face. I noticed
that when he grinned, the scar along his jaw line stretched and faded away. It
was only when he was serious that it stood out in sharp relief.

“It’s been a while, Lori,”
he said, seeming eager to remind me of our last encounter.

“It has.” I refused to rise
to the bait and smiled back. “What can I do for you?”

“I have something that
belongs to you.” He leaned forward and put his hands flat against his oak desk.
They were strong and large, his fingers long and well manicured. He looked at
me, blue eyes dancing as he gauged my reaction. He unlocked the bottom drawer
with a key and took out my panties. My belly flustered at the sight of the
familiar purple garment pinched between his fingertips. I’d thought they were
long gone to parts unknown.

My face became red hot as
Trevor held them out across the desk, dangling them. I leaned forward to take
the flimsy scrap of fabric from his grasp, but he tugged it back. I studied his
face. Impassive. I reached further and he pulled it out of range.
Okay...
We
played this game of reach and pull a few more times. I was nearly laying flat
on the desk by the time I finally snatched it from him. The position was more
than a little familiar.