Money Man (King Maker 1)

The last of the bank confirmations had come through when Scott tore into the office.

“Can I speak to you?”

I didn’t bother to check if he was talking to me. I got up and followed him back in the hall.

“You seem to have forgotten the chain of command,” Scott said.

I could tell he’d been at a simmering boil for a while.

“Maybe if you hadn’t tried to take credit for my work, I wouldn’t have to overstep you.”

“I’m the senior-in-charge,” he said.

“Then act like it. Everyone knows a senior wouldn’t be doing grunt work like confirming cash accounts unless the person underneath him wasn’t doing their job. I won’t let you ruin my reputation to climb your career ladder.”

Red-faced, he stood there a second. “You don’t understand how important this assignment is. I have a baby coming.”

I let out a sardonic laugh. “Seriously. As I recall, you mentioned wanting to get a bonus so you could buy a watch. That’s what you’re after.”

His thin lips flattened. “I don’t even know if that’s my kid. I was careful.”

“I can’t believe I ever thought I loved you.” I shook my head. “You’re all about avoiding responsibility and taking credit that’s not yours.”

He might have said something, but a flash of inky hair caught my attention. The tall frame was familiar, and I moved in that direction.

“Bailey,” Scott called at my back, but I didn’t stop.

By the time I made it to the end of the hall that intersected with the elevator banks, the doors on one were closing. It couldn’t be, I told myself.

“Bailey, what the hell?” I glanced up and Scott was there. “Where were you going?”

“I thought—” I began, but stopped myself. Why was I explaining myself to him? “It’s nothing.”

“You have a lot of work to do. I’ve spoken to the head of the accounting department and he assures me that we will have all the requested information by the end of the day. It will be a late night. Don’t think about leaving early.”

He stalked off and I rolled my eyes, tempted to flip him off while sticking out my tongue, but I resisted. Only because this hallway was more frequently used, and I’d look like a dumb teenager. The jerk knew how to push my buttons.

I went back to the conference room, and as promised the information I’d requested started coming in. By the time I left, I was starving. I’d forgotten all about Griffin until I walked outside to find him waiting.

He opened the door on the SUV like it was inevitable that I’d accept the ride. Tired and frustrated, I slid into the back without complaint. On the seat was a rectangular box with a beautiful ribbon holding it together.

Griffin got in and nodded at me. “That’s for you, miss.”

I was done with the formality. “You can call me Bailey.”

He nodded. “Fine, Bailey. Let’s get you home.”

Though I hated to see the perfectly made bow taken apart, curiosity won. I lifted the top and inhaled deeply. Laid neatly on a bed of tissue were several lacy bras and matching underwear. There were even a couple of garters. My cheeks heated as I almost pulled one out to look at it until I remembered Griffin would be able to see me. I’d shut my eyes just long enough for Griffin to pull to a stop and say, “You’re home, miss.”

Upstairs, after I waved Griffin off, I wrangled the door open, managing my purse, tote, and the box without dropping anything. Lizzy was in the kitchen with a bottle of wine in her hand.

“What do you have there?” she asked.

I set the box on the island and the rest of my stuff on a barstool. Then with my eyes on hers, I lifted the lid.

Her eyes went a little unfocused as they did when she walked into her favorite store.

“You went shopping?” she said more than asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “A gift from Mr. Hot Scot?”

“Why do you insist on calling him that?”

“Because he’s hot and he’s Scottish. It works. Go with it.”

“More like gorgeous but grumpy,” I grumbled to myself.

“Did he leave a note?” she asked, ignoring me.

I lifted the envelope, which was suspiciously like the cardstock used in the warning note, which worried me.

She took it from my hand. “Have you read it?”

“No,” I said.

She held it out to me. “Read it.”

Though I hated the fear that overtook me, I snagged it from her hand. As I pulled out the familiar thick paper, the note inside read, I owed you one. K—.

“Well,” Lizzy prodded.

I turned the paper around so she could read it.

“My, my, my. What dirty deeds did he do in bed?” I gave her a look that told her not to ask. “Fine. Are you going to keep them?”

“I don’t know.”

She lifted a bra out and sighed. “So pretty. There’s like a couple grand of lingerie here.” Appalled, I gaped. Lizzy laughed. “Not everyone gets their underwear from Target.”