“I’d clip his toenails. I’d shave his back. I’d shave his balls. Tell him that!” he called after me. “I’d do anything that he—”
Mercifully, the elevator door slid shut before I could hear the rest.
I groaned.
I checked myself out in the mirrored wall of the elevator, feeling incredibly subpar. I looked polished but tired. I’d spent the whole day, thus far, recouping from the gala. Both physically—I’d put back a few too many glasses of champagne, to help me survive the singing-Dane’s-praises aspect of the evening—and mentally. The psychological warfare had drained me. Trying to stay one step ahead of Dane all night while he lavished me with praise for his family’s benefit—and I lavished right back.
By the end of the night, I was pretty sure I had his mother convinced that I truly believed her son shat rainbows and moonbeams. And his grandmother seemed impressed with me, though she was harder to read.
I could see now where Dane got the ice water in his veins from.
But I was up to the challenge.
All night long, I was completely-taken-with-the-wonder-that-is-Dane-Davenport Devi.
It was nauseating. I almost had to hurl in the back of the limo on the way home, and not from all the booze.
But today, I was ready-to-go-to-war Devi, once again.
No matter how tired I was, I would mount a full defense to whatever attack he had planned. He wanted to summon me to his lair on personal time? Without even giving me a reason?
What was he planning to do, ask me to do another revolting favor for him, in exchange for another promise of job security on a handshake? Perhaps throw some employee discount or a small raise into the deal this time?
Was he trying to make me sweat?
Fear the loss of my job all over again if I didn’t comply?
I was getting very tired of this game—and his ability to constantly best me at it.
As of last night, I finally felt like I had the upper hand. I finally had a position of power. He was vulnerable at that table, to whatever I might say about him.
And he’d obliterated that today with a simple text.
The man had all the real power here, and we both knew it.
As I headed out through the lobby of my building, I found his Bentley parked at the curb. And his personal bodyguard awaiting me.
“Ms. Sereda,” he greeted me, as he opened the rear door for me.
“Hello, Rolf,” I said flatly.
I slid into the back of the car and tried to prepare myself for whatever awaited me as Rolf drove me through the neighborhood. My condo building was by the water. Dane’s was, too. I’d demanded the exact address this afternoon, when he said he wanted me to come there for this meeting. I’d mapped it out, and physically shuddered when I realized how close he was to me. I could’ve walked. If it wasn’t raining so hard and I wasn’t so tired, I would’ve.
I kept wondering why this couldn’t wait until the work week got started. Didn’t he see enough of me last night?
Ugh.Last night.
What a shit show.
I’d never acted so much in my life. Every time he got near me—his hand on my back, his breath on my neck when he leaned in to talk to me—I shivered, but I leaned into it. I touched him back.
He’d never been that nice to me.Never.I knew it was all part of the game, but it still freaked me out.
I enjoyed it too much when he pretended to like me—even if it was just for show.
As we ate dinner, I’d rested my fingers on his incredibly firm arm while we were talking, a few times. Halfway through the night, as the room was really heating up, he’d slipped off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and I kept doing it. Touching his wrist. I couldn’t stop.
Maybe I’d expected him to feel as ice-cold as he looked?
