Page 48 of Vicious Kingdom

Chapter 17 – Annaliese

No one refused Janet Cummbers. When she summoned, Chicago came calling. Even Manhattan heeded her beck and call. I used that to my advantage, slipping a napkin with a suggestion into her clutch the other night at the Providence Club. Now, I scanned the Grand Ballroom, waiting with bated breath to see if my labors produced fruit.

When the most eligible bachelors in the Continental US were announced on stage, I smiled. My fruit was ripe and juicy, ready for the picking.

“Thank you, thank you!” Monica gushed from behind the microphone. “The rules for tonight’s soiree are simple. You’ll each have six minutes for chit-chatting. At the end, the gentlemen will bid for a date with you, so ladies—” she grinned dramatically “—woo them well.”

My strategy was simple. If I could make a certain gentleman outbid the others, I wouldn’t end up on a date with someone likely to be stabbed by my fork.

Woo him well….More like play to his ego.

I was third in line, and as the men were divided out, a certain CEO was placed in the middle of the pack. It would be an hour or more before he rotated to my table.

Groaning inwardly, I forced a smile for my first interaction.

“Hi, I’m Travis,” the Wall Street suit announced, sticking out his hand and offering me a lopsided smile.

“Annaliese.” We shook.

The man had a strong grip. He held my hand instead of crushing the bone, letting me squeeze his in turn. While it was a nice handshake, there was no zing of electricity. We chatted for six minutes, but the conversation lacked chemistry.

When he left, another took his place. One by one, I cataloged the handshakes. Some were damp. Others were weak. One was meaty, with stubby little sausage fingers. At one point, I contracted something small, sticky, and yellow that definitely came from a nose. I wiped my fingers under the table and wished there was a break in the flow to wash my hands.

But nothing was stopping Monica’s speed-dating auction.

Disgusted with how many people I touched, I lost track of the impending collision.

“You’re in my seat.” The hard words sent a jolt through me.

Tobias, or maybe it was Elias, blanched. “The bell hasn’t rung.”

His protest fell on deaf ears. One hard, unforgiving black glare, and the little man across from me scrambled, nearly falling onto the floor when he moved so fast that his feet didn’t catch him.

The scrape of the chair was ominous.

I smoothed my hands over my skirt and then lifted my gaze to meet the CEO’s. My opening line, the one I’d been editing all night, tasted wrong on my tongue.

Leo sat across from me, folded his hands on the table, and simply stared.

From the stage, the bell chimed.

Around us, individuals shuffled seats. A poor soul looked at me, confused, but shrugged and moved to the next table, skipping his turn.

Leo jumped the line—to sit with me.

That had to be a good sign, right?

My heart fluttered in an affirmative.

“Cat got your tongue?” The rumble of his deep bass sent a rush of heat tingling through me.

“Nope,” I whispered.

Another thirty seconds passed.

“You smile and flirt for every other bastard. Where’s my smile, Annaliese?”

“You haven’t earned one,” I countered.