She steps over to him, placing her French-nail-tipped hand on his arm. He doesn’t even look at it.
“Let’s discuss business in my office. My staff is busy enough without you demanding their time.”
“Fair enough. I don’t want to be a distraction.”
His gaze flicks to me. The message he transmits without words is brief, almost unreadable. I can’t quite tell if it’sstay out of itordon’t back down.
I want to say something about how rude Ruth was, but I check myself. Tattling wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good. The air crackles. For a moment, I wonder if she’s going to try ripping into me again. But she doesn’t, thankfully. Instead, she turns on her Louboutins and heads into Sasha’s office.
“Lovely speaking with you,Gabriella.”
Sasha grabs the door as it shuts, giving me one more strange look before stepping inside. Then the office doors close, and I’m alone. My pulse is still racing. Ihatethat I was so shaken by her.
I glance down at the proposal in my hands. I’d been all ready to turn it in, eager to plop this thing on Sasha’s desk and let him know it was ready for review.
One more glance at my binder, and I realize now’s not the time. Ruth’s got his full attention, and the proposal’s just going to have to wait. With a sigh, I start back to my desk.
Once I’m back at my desk, I drop the binder and plop into my chair. I feel strangely defeated, like my moment has been stolen from me. My jaw tightens. I turn to my screen, trying to busy myself with emails, but it doesn’t work. I find myself craning my neck to see down the hall, catching the faint shadows of Sasha and Ruth through the frosted glass.
It’s hard to tell exactly what’s going on, but they’re close—too close.
A hot pulse of jealousy rises before I can shove it down.
This is ridiculous, I try to tell myself. I may be having his baby, but I’m not his girlfriend. We haven’t done anything together since that night. Do I have a right to be jealous that some Irish bombshell strolled in here and immediately started putting the moves on him?
I try to push it all aside, but it doesn’t work. The thought of her in there with him—touching his arm, leaning in, flashing him that smile of ruby-red lips and teeth as white as the pearls of her necklace—it makes my stomach twist.
I stand up and pace. The proposal sits pristine on my desk, the culmination of every little drop of hard work I’ve done since this nightmare started. He should see it. Heneedsto see it. He needs to see how hard I’ve fought for this company, for him, for both of us.
It’s not jealousy, I tell myself. It’s professional integrity.It’s about showing him what I’m capable of.
Screw it.
I grab the binder off the desk and start back down the hall. Where I was nervous before, now I’m totally full of determination. I don’t bother with subtlety when I’m at his office doors—one knock, hard enough to slice through Ruth’s laugh on the other side.
A beat of silence. Then Sasha’s voice, low and firm. “Come in.”
I take a slow, deep breath, holding the dark red binder like a shield with one arm as I pull the door open with the other.
The first thing I see is Ruth on his desk, perched on the corner, like she’s starring in a perfume ad. Her emerald silk dress hugs every curve, her red lips are gleaming, and one leg is crossed over the other in a way that shows a totally NSFW amount of thigh.
She flicks her eyes to me and her smile fades, her expression turning to one of total disdain, like I’m here to interview for a job, and it took her exactly one second to determine I’m not the right fit for the role.
I pull my eyes away from her and focus on Sasha. He’s standing behind his desk, jacket off, his sleeves rolled to the elbows. The veins on those ropy forearms catch the lightjust right, and I hate that I notice. He looks composed, powerful, and a little unreadable. In that moment, he’s every bit the man who drives me insane and turns me on every single day.
He doesn’t say anything—it’s up to me to explain why the hell I practically busted into his office in the middle of a meeting with one of the most powerful women in Chicago.
This better be good, his expression seems to say.
It is.
I clear my throat. “I’ve finished the proposal,” I say, crisp and professional. “It’s ready for your review, Mr. Orlov.”
Ruth tilts her head, her green eyes sparkling with fake sweetness. “Oh, so you’re the one handling the merger. How brave of you, Sasha—putting the future of the company in the hands of a girl who looks like she should be preparing for sorority rush.”
My jaw tightens so hard, it aches.
“Ruth.” Sasha wields the name like a knife. His tone is hard, cutting. Ruth obeys, pursing her lips and rolling her eyes. “I demand professionalism in my office. And yes, Gabriella has been leading the initiative. And she delivers results.”
