Twin Babies with the Billionaire for Christmas

7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tristan

“We need to let them go, Jay. This is business, after all.”

Jay looks at me from across the freshly organized desk in my home office, he doesn't look very happy with my decision. But it doesn't matter right now. I won’t waste more money on something that has proven to be a dead end over the last six months.

“I’m not letting you have your way this time, Jay. I won’t be funding that project anymore.”

He believes in offering partners ample chances, but in this case, we may just be losing money for nothing. The project had gotten off to a great start, but we had run into issues with the outsourced partner team who was doing the lion’s share of the work.

Over the course of the past three weeks, delivery had been pushed out more than once, leading to me having to move around a bunch of other project timelines to compensate.

I always made sure that we rolled out at least one new product right before Christmas so that we could catch Black Friday shoppers and also last-minute holiday gift purchases. This year, I had wanted to have three new products out and ready to be enjoyed by the masses.

This project was supposed to be one of the three, yet it was stagnant at this moment, floundering around without anyone to tie up the last few steps in a neat and tidy bow. I’m a tech mogul, not a developer. I can’t just pick up the reins and create solutions for the people who actually designed these products.

Jay also didn’t know how to build software. We were both great at project management, but we’re not the kind of tech gurus that are needed to clean up this mess.

Usually, this wasn’t an issue, but this particular project had become a total nightmare and I was more than ready to be done with dumping money into it.

“What if I fund it another month?” His question takes me by surprise. “What if I fund it from my own pocket, Tristan? Will the company pay me back after we start turning a profit?”

This is a challenge and one that I'm rather interested in. I push back in my chair and tilt my head back. I like a challenge and Jay and I occasionally engage in wagers like this for fun.

“And you’re sure you won't be wasting your money? Because I care about you losing money. Janet won’t let me hear the end of it if I say nothing.”

I can just imagine Janet pushing her finger into my chest and telling me that I encourage Jay to waste money on crazy projects just so that we can compete over who is the most successful businessman.

She has raised hell over this kind of thing a few times in the past, and I hate being dressed down by her…especially when I know that she’s right.

Janet is a sweetheart, but she’s also a fireball. Jay loves her bossy nature, but she frankly scares me a little sometimes.

“Don’t worry about it, Tristan. I believe in this project even if you don’t.”

“Okay. Go ahead, Jay. I wish you good luck with it. I am thoroughly sick of their inability to keep to timelines and their complete incompetence when it comes to communication.”

“Yeah, but no need for luck. You don't believe in it anyway.”

“I shouldn’t have to believe in luck for it to work for you. You believe in it, so that will have to be enough.”

My office door opens, interrupting our banter. My housekeeper, Nancy, is poking her head into the room.

“Good morning, Mr. Black. The writer is here, sir.”

“Bring her in, Nancy.”

I glance at Jay, who winks at me as Nancy closes the door behind her again.

“What?” I say, unreasonably annoyed by his amusement.

“You look…nervous,” he says with some surprise. “Can I stay to officially meet her? Is she going to be working here at the house?”

I shift in my leather chair. “We still have to finalize the contract, remember? With her moving in down the way just a few days ago, and my busy schedule, we haven't had time to talk about it. As to working here, she will have to shadow me everywhere for a while. She has to get to know me and my life to write about me with authority.”

Much to my surprise, Jay doesn't tease or say anything anymore. He just observes me as I shift around uncomfortably in my office chair. I feel entirely exposed, uncertain about where to put my hands or even how to sit.

What is wrong with me? I can’t remember being this nervous about meeting with anyone since I was fresh out of college and looking to get my first tech job.

There’s a knock at the door to my office, and Nancy shows Rachel in.

I admire Rachel’s blonde hair, red lips, and the floral dress that somehow both obscures and reveals her figure. She is a stark contrast to Nancy, who, as always is wearing all black, has short, curly dark hair, and is about a foot shorter than Rachel, though neither woman is tall.

Rachel stops abruptly when she sees Jay and offers him a small smile. My jaw nearly drops, but I don't allow it to. I can feel that smile like a physical caress and I’m immediately jealous of Jay for receiving it.

This is not like me at all. I usually pride myself on being an understanding guy who doesn’t get jealous.

"Mr. Black," she says, her voice steady. Her words shake me out of my emotional distress, and I manage to smile at her in a way that I hope seems normal.

I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. "Thanks for coming over,” I tell her. I reach out for her hand and she shakes it.

I try and probably fail, to control the jolt of electricity that races through me at her touch. My cheeks feel a little hot and I hope that I’m not blushing.

“You didn’t offer me much of a choice,” she says with a little smirk. “Your driver was very nice, by the way.”

I grin, unrepentant. “I was afraid that you’d slip away again if I didn’t corner you. Rachel, this is Jay.”

“Hello,” she says cordially to Jay, offering him her hand. I nearly laugh at the smitten look on my friend’s face.

Rachel is beautiful in a non-traditional way, but it’s the way that she makes everyone in the room feel so seen that makes her so attractive.

Clearly, Jay is not immune to her charms despite the fact that he is besotted with his own wife.

“Jay is a good friend and a business partner. He might be here in the future when you are working.”

She smiles at Jay and nods. “I’ll have to set up an interview with you, Jay. I want to discuss our subject here,” she glances at me with a twinkle in her green eyes, “I’ll need the perspective of his friends and family as well.”

I can feel Jay's gaze darting between us, his expression shifting from amusement to curiosity. I can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Jay,” I say in warning, “you’d better not throw me under the bus.”

Jay laughs at that and rises from his chair. “You know I only pick on the people that I care about,” he says back.

He gives Rachel an approving nod, then turns to me.

“I need to head out and take care of some errands. It was nice to meet you, Rachel. I’ll be seeing you around.”

We both watch him leave and then I indicate that Rachel can sit in the chair that he vacated. She sits down, arranging her dress carefully, not meeting my gaze.

“Is anything the matter?” I ask, observing her clear discomfort.

She’s quiet for a few seconds before she speaks again.

“I was starting to think we wouldn’t actually be working together after…what happened.”

I'm honestly a little offended by that, but I play it cool. And I can understand her worry. Our communication has been shifty.

“Well, you’re an excellent biographer. Your accolades precede you. One night of unforgettable sex can’t change that."

I know it wasn’t just that. It was so much more. But a part of me had hoped that it hadn’t ruined her like it ruined me. She’s invaded my brain. It might have made it easier to keep this situation under control if she hadn’t felt the same way.

I can tell, however, that she is worried about the fire in our connection.

It makes it all too real and the attraction humming between us sits in the middle of the room like an elephant that no one wants to acknowledge.

I admire her bravery for speaking about it at all when I haven’t been able to admit that I am struggling to keep my hands off of her each time I see her.

She shakes her head in disagreement. “The thing is, one night of unforgettable sex can change everything,” she says ruefully. She slowly meets my gaze, and the heat I see in her eyes makes my cock twitch.

“The thing is,” I say to her slowly. “We’re adults. We can keep ourselves under control.”

She makes a little face. “To write your story, I will need to be around you all the time for at least a couple of weeks. Are you sure that we can manage to keep things professional throughout that whole time?”

She looks me dead in the eyes, “I’m not sure I can write an objective book about a subject if I am sleeping with them.”

I lean back in my chair, willing my body to calm down. She’s right. We’ll need to keep things on the up-and-up, but that will be easier said than done.

“You live right down the way,” I tell her. “You can come and go as you please so that you don’t feel trapped with me. We can make this work.”

She nods, but she doesn’t look convinced.

“Also,” she says to me, glancing around at the obligatory Christmas decorations in my study, “it’s just about to be the holidays. Are you sure that you want to tackle this kind of work when you are going to be busy with family and friends and parties?”

“Don’t you need to talk to them to write my story?” I ask her.

She nods. “Yes.”

“Well, then it’s good timing to be working on the project now.” I pause and frown a little. “I don’t really pause work to observe the holidays, anyway,” I tell her.

A slightly bitter expression twists her pretty mouth. “Okay, got it. I wouldn’t have guessed by your decorations,” she says.

“Well, if I’m being honest, this was all done by my housekeeper, she is more like a house manager” I admit.

“A ‘house manager’? You can be a little bit intimidating at times,” she admits to me, her head tilted to the side. “Are you going to be able to let down your guard so that I can learn enough about you to write a really good book?”

“Hey, I’m super friendly if you know me well,” I retort.

She lifts a brow at that. “Well, since I don’t know you all that well, my observation stands.”

“You know some things about me really well already,” I tease, wiggling a brow at her.

She frowns, but her eyes are laughing at me. “That is exactly the kind of thing that you can’t do,” she chides me.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Sorry. I promise I can be good…and be open with you.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you don't.” Her response is a little too quick and self-conscious.

I immediately think of her sucking my cock, spanking me with my belt, telling me to beg. It’s fascinating that she was able to play the role of dominatrix so well when we were having sex, but now she seems almost ashamed about what happened between us.

The way she had taken control of things had been a huge turn-on for me. I don’t want her to feel weird about it.

I think about my “dating” life over the past few years. It’s been a lot of mindless sex, one-night stands followed by maybe a few days of texting or a couple of dates, and then it ends.

I wasn’t looking for anything more with Rachel either, but I genuinely like her. Her company makes me feel…at home.

I clear my throat. “Well, I need to head to the office for a little bit now. Do you want to come with me? We can grab some food after.”

“Sure,” she agrees, rising to her feet and smoothing her skirt. “Oh crap, I’m actually supposed to meet Cara later for food. You’re welcome to join though,” she adds.

“Oh, okay,” I say, snapping my fingers. “But let me sign that contract before we head to the office.”

She lifts a brow at me. “Don’t you want to negotiate the price?”

I shake my head. “God, no. Your fee is fair. I don’t have to think twice about the stipulations in your contract.”

I sign on the digital signature line on my phone and hit send. I look up at her and smile. “There, you should have it in your inbox now. I might even need to pay you extra when you’re done. If I’m really happy with your work, that is.”

She smiles at me, a real smile this time. “Oh, trust me, you will love your story when I’m done with it,” she tells me.

We stare at one another for a couple of moments, awareness flowing between us. I have this sudden crazy desire to sweep her up off her feet and bend her over my desk, but I resist.

We are supposed to be professionals now. No more funny business. I promised.

I just hope I can keep that promise.