For some reason, my friends arrive early to the jet, and Sam is just stepping off when they walk up the steps. It’s slightly awkward as they greet because they both stare at me and give me a look.
I shake my head to make it clear it’s not what it looks like.
I give Samantha the car keys for the rental I booked her, and I say the number, “Three.” As in three o’clock.
It does not help, and Troy Remington eyes me. It’s wise Sam is not here and not around the business details. It is also best she is not wasting her time around us.
Samantha smiles back at Troy and Rhett, and then she purrs, “Boys.”
She climbs into the rented convertible, and she peels away fast. The guys watch Sam blast off and disappear into the day.
I shake my head, and finally, they follow me inside. I catch them grinning, and I don’t like it. “Not what it looks like.”
“Sure,” Troy says.
“Right,” Rhett agrees.
“Bastards,” I mumble. “And as I said, she stowed away.” I recline in my favorite seat in the jet, and they sit around in the other large chairs. Folders sit on a couch, and Samantha was cool enough to arrange pastries. She has also made coffees, and juices are down the aisle.
The guys help themselves, and for some reason, the bastards start on me again.
“So, what’s with you and her again?” Troy asks, eyeing me with a croissant.
“Nothing, like I’ve said.” I am full of shit, and they know it.
“The hell, nothing,” Rhett says, eating and dropping pastry on my jet floor.
“Okay,” I say, deciding to come clean. “And use a darned napkin.” I stand to try to make it sound less screwed up. Itwon’thelp. “So, before Samantha started working for me, and by mistake, we kind of met.”
The A-hole billionaires share a look, and they both smile.
“This is the story you’re running with?” Rhett asks.
Smug bastard.
“Says the guy who was rated as the world’s worst playboy two years back,” I say. The goons share another look, grinning like morons. Billionaire morons. “God help me,” I say, rubbing a temple. “We. Are. Not. Fucking.”
“Yeah, but you want to.”
“Bad,” Rhett adds to Troy’s stupid comment.
I growl, and I decide to move to Antarctica, where life would be simple.
Several hours later,we have decided on the new finance details. We have also agreed on exactly who will do what as the merger of divisions and companies happens. And the conglomerate forms.
It was the last unlocked detail. Titles are confirmed, and it is good timing. I will be CEO. Rhett will act as COO, and Troy will be Head of the Board.
Finally, we stand and stretch.
“So,” I say, “now it’s just down to the Japanese.”
“Agreed,” Troy says, leaning on the door frame of the jet and stretching his stiff neck.
“You okay?” I ask, watching him rotate his head.
“I will be. I’m just exhausted. Overseeing night shoots on location. The action movie is so far behind schedule, it’s killing me. I also have a rom-com in trouble inAustralia, and the two stars have no chemistry.”
I nod. I know what he means.
