Twin Babies with the Billionaire for Christmas

14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Tristan

I pull out my chair and settle in. My eyes are sweeping the boardroom to make sure everyone is already in here. But I just want to find out where Rachel went in a rush earlier. She had just run past me in the lobby as if I wasn’t there.

We had been having so much fun together. The night we shared was one of the best I’d had in many years. It might have been the best night I’ve ever had with any woman.

She did seem off this morning, though. I can’t quite wrap my head around what may have happened.

I sent her a text but she didn’t reply. I was worried but now was not the time.

Focus, Tristan.

Ali, our new content strategist, is sitting across the table from me. She’s typing away on her laptop and talking to the content writer next to her. My thoughts wander again.

I suppose Rachel might be feeling sick again. She had seemed to bounce back quickly from her illness, but maybe she had relapsed.

I also know that she won’t admit it yet, but I know the power I have over her—or at least, over her body. I love the way it responds to me, my presence, my eyes, my touch.

Shit.

I don't own her. She’s a full-grown adult. But leaving without saying a single word to me is not exactly a grownup thing to do.

Goddamn it, Tristan. Focus.

Jay sits to my left, his usual confident smirk firmly in place. He’s been my best friend since high school, the kind of guy who’s always up for a challenge, especially when it involves pushing boundaries.

Together, we’ve turned Black Solutions into the powerhouse it is today. And today, we’re about to take another big step.

I lean back in my chair, letting my gaze sweep across the table again. Rachel's face flashes in my mind.

She often has a focused expression while working, though there’s always that tender softness in it. Maybe it’s the warm, welcoming aura that always surrounds her.

“Sorry I’m late,” Denise says as she struts into the room, her heels clicking loudly on the tile floor.

I glance at her, eyeing her smug expression. I think about the single date that we went on and I feel a little disgusted.

I had clearly been swayed by her beauty, but her personality had shown through right away. She was a good sales manager, but she was not the kind of woman I wanted to sleep with.

“You’re looking nice today, Tristan,” she murmurs to me on her way to her chair.

I feel revulsion roll over me.

Unbelievable.

I resist the urge to look at her with annoyance.

I feel deeply disgusted by Denise’s attentions. For the first time, I think I might need to find a way to let her go. I don’t think I can stand dealing with her on a daily basis anymore.

“All right,” I begin, my voice cutting through the chatter. “Let’s get started, shall we? We’ve got a lot to cover today, and I want to make sure we’re all on the same page before we move forward.”

Jay gives me a nod, and I know he’s itching to be the first to share the news he’s been holding back. I let him have the floor.

“We've been working on a new product, something that’s going to set us apart in the market.” He pauses, letting the tension build, before dropping the bombshell. “It’s a social app, but not just any social app. This one’s built for the next generation—a fusion of gaming, social networking, and AI-driven content creation. We’re calling it Fuse .”

I observe the room for their reaction to this. They are abuzz with excitement and curiosity. Fuse is specifically Jay’s baby. He fought hard for it, and it’s going to change the game for us.

Young people are going to eat this up—instant messaging, gaming, and the ability to create viral content with just a few clicks. It’s going to be huge. He showed me the test results, and it was the most unbelievably promising thing I'd seen in a while.

“The development process is complete,” Jay continues, his voice full of pride. “We’re ready to go to market, but we need to decide on a launch date. I’m thinking we go big—maybe host a live event, something that’ll make waves.”

I watch the reactions around the table. Most of them are nodding, excited by the prospect. Ali in particular, looks very excited.

Jay points out the best feature on the app was Ali’s idea, and that she should be congratulated for her input.

“I agree,” I say, turning my attention back to the table. “But before we lock anything in, I want to review the numbers from our analytics team.”

I nod to Maya, our analytics team rep, and she pulls up her PowerPoint. “Since Ali took over our direct content marketing, we’ve seen a two-hundred percent increase in engagement across all platforms,” she announces, not without admiration. “That’s in barely two weeks of testing. The strategies she’s implemented have been incredibly effective.”

I allow myself a small smile. I’m impressed by how quickly Ali has turned things around in that department. “Ali,” I say, turning to her, “would you mind walking us through some of the key strategies you’ve used?”

“Of course,” she replies, her voice steady. “One of the main things I focused on was understanding our audience better. We analyzed the data to identify the content that resonated most, then doubled down on creating more of that, while also experimenting with new formats.”

As she talks, I watch the room. Most of the board members are nodding, clearly impressed. But Denise? She isn’t even listening. She’s just staring at me.

There is something like a smug smile on her lips, and I frown at her. What is going on with her?

When Ali finishes, Denise is quick to interject. “Those are great numbers, Ali, but don’t you think they’re a bit exaggerated? A two-hundred percent increase sounds almost too good to be true. Perhaps we should double-check those figures.”

I suppress a sigh. Here we go again. She’s always being difficult with the other women in the company. “Our analytics team is thorough, Denise,” I say, my tone cutting. “If Maya’s reporting a two-hundred percent increase, then that’s what the data said.”

Denise’s eyes flick to mine, and I see a brief flash of frustration before she schools her expression. “Of course,” she replies, her voice dripping with insincerity. “I’m just saying we should be cautious.”

“Caution is important,” Jay cuts in smoothly, trying to diffuse the tension, “but so is recognizing success. Ali, you’ve done a fantastic job, and I’m confident those numbers are accurate.”

Ali gives a small nod of thanks, her gaze dropping to the table for a moment. She’s clearly not one to bask in the spotlight, but she deserves this recognition, and I’ll be damned if I let Denise or anyone else downplay that achievement.

“Moving on,” I say, redirecting the conversation. “We need to finalize the launch date for Fuse . I want something soon but with enough time to build up the hype. Jay, what’s your take?”

“I say we aim for the New Year. That gives us plenty of time to create buzz, but it’s close enough to keep the momentum going.”

I consider it, then nod. “Perfect. Anything else on the list of things that we need to talk about?”

There is some scattered chatter, but I tune it out. Jay calls the meeting to a close for me because I am thinking about Rachel and not about the meeting.

“Everything okay?” he asks me, confused.

“He’s fretting about Rachel, I bet,” Denise says as she wanders over. Everyone else has left the room. It’s just myself, Jay, and Denise left.

I glance at her, my brow drawing down. “Did you see Rachel leave in a rush earlier today? She isn’t responding to my texts.”

Denise’s smile widens. “Well, she was in her interview with me, but then she just hurried out. It seemed like she was upset about something I said.”

I feel coldness wash over me. “What did you two talk about?”

Denise’s smile turns into a little smirk. “Oh, you know, this and that. I did mention some company…drama. I might have mentioned Amy. I felt like it was only fair that she know since she needs to write the truth about you.”

“You told her what?” I demand, rising to my feet and looking over her. She just smiles at me, standing stiffly in her super-high heels before me with her arms crossed over her fake breasts.

“Tristan…” Jay says to me his tone clearly a warning.

“I thought she should know about how women are treated around here.”

“We provided evidence to clear the company name and to resolve the Amy debacle, Denise,” I remind her. “Per company policy, none of this is supposed to be discussed with anyone…especially someone who doesn’t work here.”

She shrugs. “So sue me,” she says flippantly.

“I just might have to!” I exclaim, driving a hand through my hair. “Why would you do something like that?”

She shrugs, stepping around me and walking toward the door to the conference room. “I thought that it was obvious that you two were sleeping together. She should know who she’s having sex with.”

My mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. I am just staring at Denise, trying to piece together why on earth she would do something like this to me…to Rachel.

The mess with Amy was not my fault. She testified during the investigation that she had made up her allegations to try and wrangle money out of me.

Why would Denise bring up something like that at work, when she knew that she wasn’t allowed to speak about the case to anyone now that it was closed and over.

“Denise, come with me,” Jay says, rising to his feet and escorting her from the room.

“Fuck!” I hiss as I storm toward the full-length windows and glare down at the street.

I hear Jay walking back into the room, but I just stare out the windows at the rain, watching the Christmas lights twinkling as the rainwater runs down the glass in front of me.

“That woman is going to get herself fired,” Jay says quietly, coming to stand by me.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?”

Jay sighs. “You are so blind, Tristan.”

I swing to the side to look at him. “What?”

He rolls his eyes. “Tristan, that woman has been determined to end up dating you the entirety of the time that she’s worked here. She isn’t over you turning her down, and she’s willing to blow up everything to get your attention. I don’t think she even cares if it’s negative attention at this point.”

My heart feels heavy as the truth of Jay’s words sink in. “Dammit.”

“What’s really going on with you and Rachel?” Jay asks me, his brows lifted.

I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Too much. Not enough.”

“Ah,” Jay says. “And do you plan on telling her that?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

He snorts. “You should know by now that women often believe one another before they will believe the men in their lives. If Denise has said something negative about you, Rachel will probably believe her words in spite of her feelings for you.”

“Do you really think that?” I say.

“I know that,” he says. “Whatever you think Denise told Rachel, you had probably better get ahead of it.” He claps his hand on my shoulder. “I need to get home to dinner, or I’ll get in trouble with my better half. Get on this mess, or you might lose whatever you have going on with Rachel.”

“Thanks for your advice,” I tell Jay, and I mean it.

I listen to his retreating steps and then I pull my phone out of my pocket. I take my time composing a text for Rachel.

We need to talk. But until then, I’m going to send you some documents to look at. You need to know the real story.

I sigh and drop my phone back into my pocket. I need to pull up some documents and share them with Rachel to clear my name.

I don’t know that anything else about our relationship can be salvaged, but at least she won’t think terrible things about me.