The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

 

Chapter 1: Christina

“Hey! Christina!” someone called. I turned around to look who it was, my long hair bouncing on my shoulders. I had meant to put it up today. I pushed it out of my eyes. I spotted my colleague, standing at her desk. She was waving a form at me.

“Hey.” I walked back. I squinted at the form. I probably should get my eyes checked, but I know myself – I’d never do the glasses thing. I was told once that my hazel eyes were my best feature, and I’m sticking with that. I frowned at her.

“It’s that form you wanted me to check through. All done. You can just sign it and we’ll send it off. Looks good to me.”

“Thanks, Neela,” I said. I passed it to her and then she passed it back to me.

“Distracted?”

I laughed. “Yeah. Kind of. I have a meeting with the dragon in about fifteen minutes.”

“Oh. A dragon, is he?”

“No, not really,” I said. “Dragons are too nice.”

We both laughed. She knows me well. She also knows I hate our boss.

I took the form, headed up the hallway and then went left, into the boardroom.

I was early.

I felt a sigh of relief wash through me. I still had a few minutes to prepare. I went to the window, checking my reflection. I had a long face with high cheekbones, and most of my friends told me I was good looking. I wiped off a smudge of lipstick carefully. I had chosen dark pink today – I remember a friend telling me it enhanced my eye-color. I tucked chocolate-brown hair behind my ears and carefully brushed some smeared blush in place.

It mattered, to look nice. Not that I cared what Mr. Caden thought of me – not exactly. I just didn’t want him to think badly of me.

I checked the room. Was the projector ready to project from the notebook? I went to check. Dax, who usually checks the cables, always forgets to turn the projector on. I checked. It was on.

“Great.”

I was just moving from the speaker’s place when someone came in through the door.

“Are you speaking today, Ms. Bradfield?” Mr. Caden asked.

“No,” I said hastily. “No, I’m not. That’s Ted, and he’s not here.”

“Yes. I can see that.”

I blushed. Did he have to be so rude? He raised a brow at me, unsmiling. I couldn’t help noticing, even as I remembered anew that he was a jerk, how good-looking he unfortunately was.

With a thin face, high cheekbones and dark hair, he had a great deal in the looks drawer already. Added to that, he had hooded green eyes. Honestly, did he really have to be so stunning? He walked past me to the front of the table and even as I wanted to smack him for pushing me out of the way, I also couldn’t help but notice that he moved beautifully.

“So, Miss. You are taking notes?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said. I felt annoyed again. Just because I happened to be the only other woman who was at the meeting, besides one colleague, didn’t mean I was automatically the team-secretary. I was the senior marketing executive. He ought to know that – he was one of the people who got me promoted.

I scowled up at him.

He smiled, thinly. I felt my blood race. How dare he? He always acted as if my annoyance was solely to gain his attention. Which made it all the harder to be around him. The more annoyed I got, the more he seemed to get amused.

I shifted in my seat. It was silent in there. No people talking to distract us, no fan, no keyboard. Just me and him and the sound of breathing.

He looked up from the keys.

“The cable’s not connecting.”

“What?” I frowned. I’d just checked them.

I stood up, high-heels clicking on the floor. We had a really nice floor in the boardroom. It was a really nice room, too, in an old-fashioned way. I just wished that I wasn’t stuck in it alone with Mr. Annoying. I let out a deep breath and looked at the laptop.

“The cable’s not working. Look.” He pointed. I could see that there was an error message. I ran a hand through my hair. I could smell him, this close. Cologne and spice. I felt my body ache. Why did somebody so annoying have to be so sexy?

I breathed slowly. I tried to think of a solution.

“Yes, the cable’s not working. Pull it out and rub the end on a hanky or something. It’s probably static.”

He looked at me. I hate it when I do that sometimes. I can’t help telling people what to do. I guess it’s one of the reasons why I am in the job I’m in, but I could see on his face that he’d not expected it. I took a deep breath.

“Why would I do that?” He was looking at me, and I didn’t know how to interpret his expression. I raised one eyebrow.

“Because the connector’s static,” I said. “Wiping it with something discharges it. Here.” I wiped it.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Now try it,” I said. I was surprised that my voice was tight. What was wrong with me? I looked up at him. “If you connect it now, maybe the projector will recognize it.”

“Great,” he said. He put the connector in.

It worked.

He looked at me, surprised. I wanted to smile, but I kept my face neutral. I wasn’t about to put aside my dislike and smile at him. I felt triumphant, since I was fairly sure he had low expectations of my fixing anything. I was saved from needing to say anything as the rest of the executive team came in, walking briskly. I looked up at Brett Caden, but he was uploading the presentations.

I bent over and tried hard to concentrate properly.