“What are we going to do?” I asked.
Kira gave me the side-eye. “What areyougoing to do is the real question. Vincent just called me to confirm that we’d be going to his Billionaire’s Brunch.”
“I tried saying no. Please tell me you said no.”
“How the hell was I supposed to say no to one of the richest men in the country, Rosenna? Of course I said yes!”
Placing my hand on my forehead, I groaned as I shut my eyes, feeling my headache grow. “God, how am I going to get away from these men?”
Kira gave me a look. “Can I tell you what team I’m rooting for? Hint: I don’t like Gavin.”
I glared at her as I grabbed her arm and dragged her out of her office.
We rejoined Gavin and Beckham, a fake smile plastered on my face.
“Well, guys, Kira and I have a lot of work to do, so Gavin, I’ll see you at home, and Beckham… we’ll keep in touch.”
Gavin nodded and pointed to Beckham. “You better bring the beer, Garcia. The guys will love you.”
I gazed back and forth between them quickly as my heart raced.
“The guys?” I asked, confused but still trying to remain impartial.
Gavin explained, “I invited Beckham to join in on a poker night with the guys at the firm. Thought it’d be nice for them to meet my wife’s biggest client.”
The corners of Beckham’s mouth raised.
I gave another wavering smile in return.
Gavin’s poker nights. Nights at our home, probably a few times a year, where he gathers his law firm buddies, and they play pool, poker, darts… and drink loads and loads of alcohol. Yours truly is often the one mitigating how much they’re drinking as well as what they’re eating for the night.
“I’d hate to impose,” Beckham said.
Gavin shook his head. “Nonsense. We’d be delighted to have you.”
“I guess I’ll check my schedule then,” Beckham uttered in response as he ran his eyes over my figure.
Kira let out a small noise as she caught the gesture, but reluctantly left me alone with them as one of our other employees called her over.
“Gotta get back to the office. I’ll see myself out. See you at home, love,” Gavin said.
I nodded as he placed a small kiss on my cheek. He gave Beckham a final handshake as I swiftly left the area.
Behind, still within earshot, I heard Beckham excuse himself to the bathroom before heading out. Suspecting that was not exactly what he planned on doing, I sped, hoping to make it to my office—but very quickly, terrifying footsteps approached from behind. I floored it, running the last of the distance, throwing the door closed—
It hit a foot.
Beckham pushed the door open.
I crossed my arms. “What are you doing, Beckham?” I seethed.
“I’m not doing anything, Flower,” he assured.
I stepped a few feet back as he took one step forward. He noticed and gave a small smirk at the gesture.
“Go away,” I warned. “Stop meddling with my life.”
“Me? Interfere with your life…?” He drew closer, and I could feel my mouth going dry as he towered over me. When he took another step forward, something flickered in his expression. Something dark. Something utterly unstable. “I wouldneverdo such a thing. I’m just looking to have a good time, and Gavin seemed like the perfect person…” Leering down from just a few inches in front of me, almost taunting now, he continued, “You heard what he said. The guys are going to love me.”
