“Like a party… or something?” Oliver asks, reaching a hand behind his head.
My eyebrows furrow. What on—
“A party would actually be a wonderful idea,” she says. “There are at least three you have been invited to that are currently awaiting RSVPs.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
I know that tone. I know there is no way to refute her, lest I want to incur her wrath and her reminders of how obsessed with work I am. This is not the first conversation we’ve had like this and it won’t be the last.
But what Chickadee fails to understand is that this—my work, Veil, Phantom—this is more than my job.
It’s my life. I’m forty-five. I’m not going to die tomorrow, but I’m not going to live forever, either. And at the rate technology itself is advancing, I can’t afford to lose momentum. Ineedto be on top of things. I need—
“I can not go to a party right now," I say. “There is too much work to do.”
“How many RSVPs did you say, Mrs. Deangelo?” Oliver asks.
“Three," she says. “Why?”
“I shall put a list together of said parties and perhaps Mr. Pierce couldselectone from the list.”
Oliver smiles at me, and I find myself unable to look away. I’m pissed. I’m annoyed.
And my dick is jumping with excitement because of the way he’s looking at me right now.
I thought I knew Oliver Green. But it turns out, I had him all wrong.
He’s not as submissive as I thought.
“Would that be suitable for you, Mr. Pierce?” he asks, his voice smooth and silky. “Or would you rather I just pick one for you?”
I let out a dark sigh.
“A list will be fine, Oliver. Thank you.”
His smug smile both grates on me and makes me smirk.
Chickadee nods, giving me a wave. “Take Oliver with you.”
That widens his eyes.
“What?” I don’t miss the shock in his voice.
“Well, the invites are from our colleagues and tech allies, so, it wouldn’t hurt to do some networking. Maybe even some schmoozing…”
“Of course.” I realize what she’s getting at. “It could be a prime opportunity to entice investors and donors.”
“And perhaps even tell them about yourownparty," she says with a grin.
“I don’t know, I—”
I smile at Oliver. “Consider it working late.”
“It’ll be good for you, too, Oliver,” Chickadee says as he purses his lips.
“I don’t see how.”
“Get to know our allies and our competition.” She shrugs. “And the food is usually good," she says with a wink.
