“How are you this evening? Come in, come in,” I greet him.
I have my work face on, with a smile that looks welcoming but allows me to weasel out what people are really thinking.
It’s not working tonight.
Maybe I’m scattered. Maybe Paxton isn’t playing an angle.
That’s the thing though; everyone is.
We sit down together on the couch, and since the wine is there, I offer him some. He’s flattered to accept a glass, and he immediately begins to loosen up. He’s talking about a couple of offshore investments, things I’ve actually been looking for at his portfolio.
“I’ve had those on the read list for some time,” I say, pandering to him.
My smile is wide and genuine now, enjoying this moment of mental mimic. I’ve also probably had too much wine.
“How soon can we move on this?” he asks, taking another sip. “I’m hoping to move several million into this from the others on slow return.”
“Of course,” I say.
I take a quick look at my computer. Always on. Like Will.
Shut the fuck up.
“So, I think—hey!”
As I turn back, I see Paxton taking off his jacket.
He gives me an out of place, something’s off, kind of smile.
“It’s so hot in here,” he comments.
His voice is very quiet, I’m not sure what to say.
I’m getting a weird vibe now. It’s not that warm. This is awkward as fuck.
I invited him in, so I don’t feel like I can’t just kick him out because I feel weird.
He’s a top client; I have to try and handle this delicately.
“Look, Mr. Paxton—”
“No, honey, no,” he interrupts as he shakes his head.
His eyes seem to crawl all over me.
“I’ve got to be honest. When I heard Ambrose was getting a new CEO, I was mostly relieved. Will’s a top business man, but he blows meetings all the time. I was happy to have someone new on the job. The way you handled that phone call…”
His eyes take on a dreamy look.
Oh, fuck.
The phone call when Will was fucking me.
What did this old pervert hear?
“I’ve never been inspired like that,” he admits.
He reaches out and squeezes my knee.