As she sits down, I lean in and whisper to her, “I don’t need to win.”
She takes a sharp intake of breath, her shoulders drawing together. She shakes her head. “And you probably will.”
The hint of resignation in her voice pisses me off. I flex my fingers and take a seat across from her. “Giving up already, Thunder?”
“Come on, Stone, you have an advantage. As much as I want this for myself, you have more experience, more money, and a penis, which positions you well ahead of me.”
“Why are you selling yourself short?”
She snorts. “I’m just stating the facts.”
I flex my fingers again. “You have their trust, which I reckon outweighs even my impressive cock.”
She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitch. Instead of a response, she picks up the menu and disappears behind it.
I reach over and lower it enough to meet her gaze. “They already gave you five percent. They want you at the table.”
“That five percent is a consolation prize. It promotes me from a note-taker to a glorified note-taker.”
“You should give yourself more credit. If you see yourself as a note-taker, that’s what they will accept. Today, Corm trusted you with one of his largest clients. And instead of feeling proud, you’re focusing on some outdated beliefs. If this were about gender, experience, or money, I would be partner already.”
She blinks a few times. “Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of belief that I actually have a chance?”
Fucking woman. That’s what she got out of my speech? “I’m telling you I’m impressed, and so are Corm and Cal. Just take the fucking compliment, Roxy.”
She lowers her eyes. Her throat works.
I lift the menu now. I’m not even sure why I’m irritated. Her foregone conclusion that she has no chance irritates me.
If I weren’t here, she would get the twenty-percent. That’s a fact. One I push away, because I’m not here to help her. I’m here to exploit her.
I’ve spent ten years trying to undermine my father; I’m not going to falter now because of a woman.
Regardless of how attractive and formidable she is. Or how alive she makes me feel. Or that she somehow inspires me to act selflessly.
I’m not giving up on my revenge because of someone who actively hates me. And hates herself for wanting me physically.
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t be cheering her on.
I’m here to use her, not build her up.
And yet… I can’t help myself.
She sighs. “I grew up with men who made me feel less. Who never took me seriously. I know that Corm and Cal give me credit where credit is due, and I’m not being fair lumping them together with other men. But I also recognize they will make a profit-oriented decision.”
I lower the menu before I break it. She mentioned her upbringing. This is my opportunity to open the door to talk about her family.
I want to get to her father. But I want her trust more. Goddammit.
Once again, I push my agenda aside, because something in me stirs at her words. At her naked vulnerability.
Or maybe I’m a bit drunk on the fact that sheopened up to me for the first time. I’m not even sure why that fragile trust makes me feel like I just conquered a mountain.
I can’t help myself. She is always full of gumption and sass. I can’t feed into this dejected version of her.
I lower the menu. “Thunder, you’re terrible at this celebrating-our-win thing.” I lighten the mood before I bore my gaze into hers, so she can’t escape the reality anymore. “You came up with the idea of a phased approach; you presented it to old Miller and impressed him despite his prejudice; you deserve the seat at the table, and Corm gave it to you when he asked you to present. So really, this is your win, and I’m just tagging along.”
