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“Ms. Vega, I presume,” he says, extending his hand to me, cocking an arrogant eyebrow. “I’m Tate Harrison of HTC.”
Oh, fuck my life!
Chapter 2
Tate
God damn it, this woman has got under my skin with her chocolate drop eyes and luscious curves. If I’d seen her in a bar or a coffee shop, you can bet your ass I’d be walking away with her phone number and a date. But we’re not in a coffee shop, and somehow I still managed to get covered in the frosting from her sticky cinnamon roll when she came barreling round the corner.
Obviously, at the time I had no idea she was the principal. I mean, she’s too young for a start. When I replied to the email enquiry from a ‘Ms. J. Vega,’ I was expecting to meet a middle aged matronly type with glasses on a chain around her neck and a knitted twin set.
But no, this gorgeous woman is the complete opposite to what I was expecting. Her light brown skin felt like silk when I held her wrist to stop her spreading frosting over my chest. And the way she nervously nibbled that plump bottom lip made me want to soothe the glistening, pink skin with my tongue.
I need to lock that shit down stat, because right now I’m pitching for a contract that could make or break my business.
I started Harrison Tech Company with my twin brother two years ago from our basement in San Francisco. Our parents gave us some start-up money as part of our inheritance, and we began pitching our services around town—offering everything from app and website development to tech infrastructures and installation. My brother Tanner has all the sales banter and charm—our mom often said he could sell sand in the desert—so he usually takes these initial meetings and deals with the face to face client interactions. I’m the tech nerd, so I’m happiest tucked away in our office writing code or sourcing new tech for our clients.
This morning, though, Tanner came down with a stomach flu, and there was no chance he could drive all the way from San Francisco without making several hundred bathroom stops. So I’m stuck taking this meeting, and let’s just say it’s not my forte. I’m not really a people person, especially when the person I’m here to meet is as sexy as this one.
“Mr. Harrison,” the principal extends her hand for me to shake. “I’m Jessica Vega, and I’m so sorry again about your sweater.”
I suddenly realize I’m just staring at her hand, which is still awaiting mine, so I reach out quickly and give it a brisk shake, trying not to let my mind wander when my finger grazes the thrumming pulse in her wrist.
“Don’t worry about it,” I snap, snatching my hand out of hers.
“Well, please send me the dry cleaning bill,” she replies in a curt voice, her full lips pursing. “This way, Mr. Harrison.”
Ah shit, I may have fucked this meeting up before it’s even begun.
I follow Principal Vega’s round peachy ass into her office, the tight skirt clinging to her hips and hugging her thighs down to her knees. I mentally slap myself for gawping at her ass like a total creeper.
I’m here in a professional capacity, not to find a date; especially not with a woman who probably thinks I’m a grouchy douchebag. So I follow her into the office with my newly adjusted attitude, take a seat, and do my best to sell the benefits of our business without getting too distracted by her curvy body and sparkling eyes.
Good luck to me.
∞∞∞
“How’d it go?” Tanner asks from his position on the couch, his skin is still sallow and slightly green, with a nice sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.
We’re not identical twins, but I still feel queasy now I’m back in his presence, like some weird twin empathy thing.
As a grumbled noise escapes my throat, I flop down into the recliner. Tanner still looks like hammered shit; the sick bowl, bottle of water and box of crackers on the coffee table are testament to the fact he’s no better than he was when I left this morning.
“It was a fucking disaster,” I growl, throwing my briefcase and ruined sweater down on the floor beside me. “You know I’m no good with people. You should’ve rescheduled.”
“I considered it because I know what a dick you can be.” He chuckles weakly, taking a sip of water before nibbling on a cracker. “But the principal said she wanted to get started with the changes as soon as possible.”
At my brother’s mention of Principal Vega, my interest piques and my dick twitches because I can still smell her flowery perfume and feel her silky skin under my rough fingers. But I also remember her sassy attitude, and the way her eyes glared at me from beneath her thick dark lashes. She was not impressed with me or my shitty manners, and made that very clear when she folded her arms across her full breasts and thanked me for my time.
“Well I don’t think we have to worry about it because I doubt she’ll be hiring us,” I sigh, running my hands through my short hair. I feel like a dick for ruining the pitch, but after the long drive and the frosting incident, I was even less personable than usual.
I notice the shit-eating grin that spreads across my brother’s sweaty face, and it pisses me off even more. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” I growl. “I messed up! You said it yourself, we're only six months away from going out of business, and this account could be the difference between staying afloat and sinking.”
The last big account we secured was writing code for a new dating app called Curve Connection, and that kept the wolves from the door for a while, but we need more steady long term work, and this job could have been it.
I sigh and shake my head, cursing myself for fucking it up.
“Good thing she hired us then,” Tanner laughs, and my head snaps up.
