I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

43

Beck

“Iam disappointed by the lack of effort in my plan,” Greg said when we were all assembled in the conference room in the Svensson Investment tower. “It shows an egregious lack of respect.”

“I participated,” Carl protested. “I had drinks with all the old broads by the pool practically every day. They even took pictures. Belle used some of them in her marketing material, and she told me later that she got a three hundred percent increase in interest.”

Greg pressed two fingers to his temple. “Carl, the point of this exercise is to bring the seniors on our side so that we can change the bylaws and make it less appealing to purchase a condo in the tower, thereby allowing us to purchase the remaining units. My plan does not work if you are actively participating with the enemy.”

“I did my part,” Liam said, leaning back in his chair. “I modeled nude at the still life drawing class.”

“What? No,” Greg barked. “I never said go that far. You’re supposed to make it tantalizing, not give them the whole buffet.”

“That wasn’t clear,” Liam said. “You need to be more specific on your evil plans.”

“It’s not an evil plan,” Greg corrected. “This is just business. It’s ruthless, yes, but Belle and her little investment firm are going to figure out pretty quickly that they do not have the stamina nor the wherewithal to survive in the cutthroat world of investing.”

My phone chimed with an incoming message from Tess.

I wanted it to be something along the lines of, “Last night was great.” But she was just confirming that she saw my note.

Dammit.

Being with her last night had been amazing.

The noises she had made, the way her pussy had felt, how she had shuddered and moaned my name when she had come—I had wanted to spend all night with her. I needed her.

I was only half listening to Greg rail at Mike for asking for another three million dollars for one of his hotel projects.

Greg’s ire swiveled to me. “Are you even paying attention?”

“We already know Mike is an idiot,” I said. My nerves felt a little frayed, and I was suddenly claustrophobic sitting in that conference room. “And if you’re so concerned about giving him three million for his hotel, then I’m not sure that you thought about what it really means to try and buy all these units out from under Belle.”

“I am perfectly capable of managing a corporate takeover,” Greg replied, his voice dangerously cold.

“I am concerned that you think she’s just going to roll over for you,” I countered. “Belle’s not like Mom, who would just do whatever Dad wanted when he would yell at her. She’s not going to give up without a fight. Besides, she has brothers.”

“Yes, Jack, whose tower I own part of, and let me guess, you’re going to try to say that Owen is some sort of a threat to me?”

“I just think you might want to look at this rationally and run the numbers,” I said. “With the time and energy you’re spending and will spend to buy these units, you could have just built a new tower or bought one and renovated it yourself.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Greg sneered. “You think that pretending your assistant is your girlfriend is a good idea.”

I clenched my jaw. “I was put in a difficult position. But you’re acting obsessive; you’re acting like Dad.”

Greg slammed his hands down on the table. “I am not and never will be like him. But you—”

“I’m not acting like him,” I cut in.

“No,” Greg drawled. “But you are acting like Mom. Weak. Insipid. Willing to let others do the difficult work and make the difficult decisions while you act like none of it’s your fault and fail to take any responsibility for your actions.”

“I have everything under control!” I yelled, jumping out of my seat to confront my older brother.

“Carl,” Greg barked.

My younger brother pulled up a tabloid website on the conference room presentation screen. There, in a big photo splashed along the top of the page, was a picture of me and Tess. She was in that curtain dress, the one where you could almost make out her nipples under the fabric.

“Mystery woman with Svensson brother,” Greg read. “Because this is exactly what we need, more inquiries into our business. And oh, look,” he said, scrolling down the page, “it even mentions that our father is in jail.”

“I had to take Tess to that party,” I said.

“Did you?” Greg spat. “Did you? Because it looks like—and when word gets out, everyone is going to share this opinion—that you are sleeping with your assistant. They will believe that you took advantage of her just like Dad, and that you are a predator, just like Dad.”

“That’s not what happened,” I said, clenching my pen, trying not to let him see how much he was affecting me.

“It doesn’t matter,” Greg said, exposing his teeth. “It’s messy, and you need to fix it.”

But what was I going to do? I couldn’t very well just fire Tess. And I had slept with her, well sort of, last night.

Tess had been more than a little drunk. Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed it. Maybe that was why she had sent such a lackluster response.

What if she went to the tabloids for a tell-all? They paid people. What if she went and told everyone how much she despised me and how much I was like my father and—

My phone chimed again. I stopped dead in the tower lobby as the photo and her text message appeared on the small screen.

Well shit. I guess she did like last night after all.

Beck:I wish I’d had a better view of those last night.

Tess:We can fix that today.

Tess:Since I’m your assistant, I can just clear your schedule.

I grinned at the phone.

But Greg’s threats bounced in my mind. I didn’t want Tess to think I was just using her for sex—even though I did very much want to use her for sex.

You better up your game.

Beck:How about you clear my schedule for tonight?

Beck:I want to take you out on a date.