Boost by Vi Summers

 

Chapter 7

-Greer-

 

 

The barely-audible, double-time click of high heels hurried my way with surprising speed.

“Greer!” Roxiee hissed, arriving in my open doorway, all wild-eyed and out of breath.

I laughed, immediately knowing from her reaction that Colton had arrived. “Thanks, Rox.”

When she didn’t move and kept staring, I turned from the mirror and frowned down at my clothes.

“Is something out of place?”

The last thing I needed was to have food spilled down my front, or, heaven forbid, food in my teeth.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Rox hedged; something she seldom did. Something she only did when she was breaking the news gently.

“Roxiee,” I warned.

She huffed and came closer as if we were gossiping. “He’s here, too.”

My eyes flared, then narrowed as my pulse kicked so hard I became winded.

“‘He, as in who exactly?”

A sly smirk formed on her mouth. She dipped her chin to give me a devilish look.

“Guess.”

“No fucking way,” I hissed on an exhale. “Ortiz?”

“Ah huh.”

“You’re messing with me!”

Humor danced in her eyes while her tone grew firm. “Absolutely not. He arrived with Colton.”

I hissed another curse under my breath and turned back to the mirror. Smoothing away non-existent wrinkles in my pencil skirt, then adjusting the neckline of my blouse, I nodded. It had only been two days since I’d met him, but for those two whole days my body had continually smoldered with him in my memory.

“I can do this. I can do this. I can do this,” I affirmed to myself, and took a deep breath to get a hold of nerves.

Rox followed me from the office, tittering beneath audible levels, then peeled off to bring refreshments.

I steeled my steps; each one of them hitting the floor with precision and authority. Outwardly, I was collected. Internally, I was scattered and heated.

Colton and Rafael were seated on the leather couch in reception, deep in conversation. Rafael’s eye’s flicked up, then away, then pinged back as he did a double-take. With the conversation left hanging, Colton twisted my way. His smile pulled wide as he stood, already extending his hand to me.

“Greer! Great to see you again. I’d like you to meet Rafael Ortiz. He’s the man I’d like to bring onboard.”

Rafael snapped out of his daze and dashed a tongue over his lip. I made a quick, yet entirely necessary, appraisal over the length of his body. Dressed dissimilar to Colton, the edge to his appearance hit every spot on my libido.

Black jeans tucked haphazardly into a gorgeous pair of black Timberland boots, a dark blue button-up shirt rolled to the elbow, and a large, what I assumed was a diamond stud in one ear. In other words, holy fuck.

He stepped closer. Each step loaded with the same prowl-like swagger he’d used two nights ago. An accompanying smirk lazily wove across his mouth, and instantly turned my pulse heavy and erratic.

“Mamacita,” he drawled, in his honeyed tone.

“Greer Landon,” I corrected, shaking his hand firmly to remind him that we were here for business.

“Ah, so you two did meet.”

My eyes cut to Colton and narrowed. “You could say that.”

An ill-hidden snigger came from Rafael, which I chose to ignore in favor of inviting them to my office.

“Please, take a seat. Roxiee will be here in a moment with refreshments. Or there’s scotch,” I added, because I was leaning toward liquor thanks to being rocked by Rafael’s unexpected appearance.

I didn’t like surprises—especially from clients. Not when my job was to know every sordid detail of someone’s past in order to have a plan for if, or when, it blew up in the media. Being caught on the back-foot was a bad look, and one I wanted to avoid, period.

“Any more surprises that I need to know about?” I asked Colton lightly, as I sat opposite him.

He quirked a brow. “In terms of?”

I dashed my eyes sideways to Rafael to see him listening with a smirk. “Who I’m representing.”

Rafael stiffened. “Just what do you mean by that?” Although murmured, his tone held an edge of warning.

I met his glare head-on. “I mean, that I’m aware of you being in the media recently.”

He scoffed. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“It is if you’re a client and we’ve got a foundation's reputation to uphold.”

He shrugged off my warning. “You the boss, Greer.”

Colton leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees, cutting his eyes back and forth between us.

“What’s going on between you two?”

I opened my mouth to quash the question, but Rafael cut in before I got a word out.

“Since we’re all about bein’ straight-up, Boss Lady owes me a date. That’s what goin’ on.”

My voice wanted to pitch, and I paused reaching for the alcohol. “I never agreed to a date.”

Colton indicated he would have a small one, while Rafael declined completely.

“You guys dating?” Colton asked, casually swirling his scotch.

“No, we are not,” I enunciated, then sipped on the amber liquor while pulling myself together. “Shall we get down to business?”

“We shall.”

Turning to Rafael, I became uncharacteristically flustered to find him carefully studying me. Swallowing around the tightness in my chest, I took a deep breath.

“I’m assuming you’re fully up to date with Colton’s proposal?”

He snorted. “I am.”

“And onboard?” I pressed.

“Yes.” The word was punctuated and snappy, almost as if he was still convincing himself it was something he wanted to be involved in.

“Raf’s the right guy for the job,” Colton interjected, correctly interpreting my dubious expression. “He knows the streets inside and out, and sees firsthand the talent coming through. There isn’t anyone else I trust to fill that role.”

I nodded at Colton. He’d made his point. One that I respected.

“I understand completely.” I then turned to Rafael. “I will need full disclosure on anything in your past that the media can sink their teeth into. I’d rather be prepared than blindsided by unexpected revelations.”

His demeanor completely closed off and he cut his eyes to Colton. Colton gave a subtle nod.

“How far back?” Rafael asked coolly.

“As far as we need.”

“How much detail?”

“As much as you’re willing to disclose. Basically, anything that the media can twist.”

He huffed and ran a tattooed hand over his clipped hair. “Well, how ‘bout I start with the hit and run. I was there when it happened, but it wasn’t me. And I wasn’t racing those idiot kids.”

I nodded and set down my glass. “We don’t need to do it right now; we can set another meeting if you’d prefer. And Colton, you won’t need to be here for that.”

He tossed back the remaining small portion of his scotch, then pushed to his feet. “On that note, are you okay to take it from here? I need to shoot.”

Rising to escort him from my office, I tried to ignore the rising heat, knowing that Rafael was tracking my every move.

“Thank you for stopping by, Colton.”

He gave a lop-sided smile. “Pleasure. And I’m pleased to hear you experienced street racing first-hand.”

I arched a brow. “I feel I should charge you extra for that little stunt. You knew we’d meet,” I murmured, referring to the sexy man still occupying one of my office couches.

Colton chuckled. “And if I’d told you in advance, would you have Googled him, then jumped to conclusions?”

“You know damn well I would have.”

He laughed louder. “Exactly.”

After calling, “Later, man,” to Raf, Colton nodded a final goodbye, then made his way to the foyer.

Roxiee gave me a look from her desk that told me she was barely holding it together, then flapped her hand, reminding me I still had a client waiting.

Taking a deep breath for composure, I turned on my stilettos and strode over to where Rafael waited patiently. Much to my surprise, he rose to his feet and waited until I was seated before re-seating himself.

“Down to business, then?” he said smoothly, in the same honeyed voice that had made me come alive approximately thirty-six hours ago.

“That’s why we’re here.”

I set up a voice recorder on the table so I could replay our conversation later, but before I could press record, Rafael leaned over and clasped his hand over mine.

“We first have an agreement to settle; off the record.”

I double-blinked and looked directly into his eyes. So dark. So much alluring depth. So easy to get drawn into the unknown that lingered within.

“I don’t believe we do.”

His rolling chuckle strummed my senses. “Oh, mamacita, we certainly do.”

“Greer,” I corrected, for the second time.

Another chuckle resonated through me. “Greer.”

He smirked devilishly, easily creating a rush of heat to pool low in my belly. His expression then altered without warning.

“You said I couldn’t have it both ways; winning the race and dating you. I’m here to prove I can.” The tick of his jaw belied his outward composure.

A bewildered breath fell from my mouth. “Good luck with that.”

“I don’t need luck.”

“You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”

Removing his hand from mine and giving me much needed breathing space, he casually reclined into the couch. “Nope.”

I inhaled slowly, wishing I could refill my scotch, but not trusting myself to keep my head. I watched him carefully, noting how his intense stare didn’t waver under my appraisal. If anything, he drew power from it, charging the air between us until thoughts of our first encounter invaded my mind.

He lifted a brow in a silent question. What’s it going to be?

I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “You’re in my world now, Mr. Ortiz. That means you play by my rules.”

His full-bodied laugh took me by surprise. It filled the room and caught Roxiee’s attention from her desk.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he crowed. “You expect me to play by your rules, when you didn’t play by mine?”

When I refused to answer, he shook his head and huffed through his nose. “You’ve got balls, Boss Lady, I’ll give you that. And nerve.”

Boss Lady was more tolerable than mamacita, so I let that one slide for now.

“No one’s challenged you before?”

“Oh, they have plenty. They just don’t normally get away with it.”

I let a smile tug at my mouth. “Like I said, you’re in my world now, Rafael.”

Heat entered his eyes, and I shifted subtly in my seat, knowing I had put it there. He looked me over with the same blatant hunger he wore two nights ago—again not bothering to hide it.

When he kicked up one leg and sat his ankle on the opposite knee, my eyes couldn’t help but run the length of his outstretched arms draping across the back of the couch. My attention was pulled back to his cocky grin when more smooth words filled the air.

“Well, then, let’s talk business, baby girl.”