"Must not have been that memorable, eh, Rainer?" another guy down the table chimed in.
I checked the clock and prayed to God the CFO would start the meeting on time. If I had to sit there and pretend their juvenile locker room talk didn't bother me, I was going to lose it.
"Don't feel bad, man," the guy next to Rainer said. "No one below the top floor has ever attracted her attention."
Rainer arched an eyebrow and glanced me over again. "A woman with expensive taste is a lot of work."
The pre-meeting buzz was loud enough that I could pretend I didn't hear them. I seethed inside but kept my face blank and my eyes on the financial report in front of me.
"Sounds like a challenge," the far guy said.
Rainer's eager assistant leaned over his shoulder. "Plan A, sir?" he asked.
Rainer waved him away. "I don't need a plan."
"So, you'll attempt it?" The guy next to him rubbed his hands together. "Oh, man, wait until everyone hears you're going to melt the ice queen."
I conjured up the image of Queen Elizabeth I. She knew the only way to lead was to stay above gossip, so she branded herself the Virgin Queen. It wasn't quite the same as my situation, but it kept me from attacking the childish men around Rainer.
Rainer himself tried to wave them off. "You know you're talking about your boss, right?"
"But she's not your boss, and that's the whole point."
"I've got better things to do. You realize we're at work, don't you?" Rainer asked.
"You work here?" I asked him before I could stop myself. "I thought maybe you were a spokesperson the PR department hired."
The young men stifled their laughter, but it came out in childish snorts.
Rainer glowered at them and then turned to me. He reached out and patted my hand. His eyebrows raised when he felt my nervous jolt. "I think we last ran into each other upstairs," he said.
No one else knew about the penthouse office or that I sneaked up there when I needed a lift. The smile on Rainer's lips told me he was ready to elaborate if I didn't stop him. "Oh, that's right. At the Vista Cafe. What was your name again?"
His eyes narrowed, but he answered in an easy, relaxed voice. "Rainer Maxwell, junior executive for the public relations department. I handled your press for you this morning."
I didn't like that he was already painting himself as a useful member of my team. "Great. I'm glad the script I approved worked out for you."
Rainer leaned back in his chair. "I added a few bits that I think went over very well," he said. "Not that your script wasn't good, it just wasn't exactly the image Hyperion was hoping for. I'm glad I was able to help out."
"This morning," I said. I couldn't hide my distaste any longer. "If you know your way around the project reports, you would see that this product has taken well over a year to perfect. We took extra time with the beta-testing to ensure a product that users enjoyed. Everyone here worked very, very hard. So, thanks for jumping in at the last minute, changing a few words around, and really contributing to GroGreen."
His colleagues were snickering again, and Rainer's expression had gone stiff. He clearly did not appreciate my ti
rade any more than I liked his presence at my meeting. Luckily, as soon as he opened his mouth to retort, the chief financial officer of Hyperion strode through the door and called the meeting to order.
Chapter Four
Rainer
It was exhilarating to be in that jam-packed meeting. With the chief financial officer standing at the head of the long conference table, I had flashbacks to college. It felt just like the time my English literature class had to switch rooms due to a stink bomb going off in the lecture hall. The conversation rippled and flowed so much faster with everyone tight together.
I should have gone to more classes, I thought.
Then I remembered why I had skipped so often. Tasha uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again, and a stab of lust hit me hard in the gut. It fit my playboy image, being so easily distracted by a great pair of legs.
Frankie, the obnoxious social media star sitting directly to my left, noticed my gaze and elbowed me again. "Pretty hot for an ice queen," he whispered.
I told him to shut his trap, but that only made his grin wider. Word was already traveling around the office via social media that a challenge had been issued. It was ridiculous and juvenile to make bets about women and romantic entanglements, but I had always participated before, and there was no reason to change. My image was working, it had gotten me this far, and I didn't want to lose it now.