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He cleared his throat. “We need to get going if we’re going to make the meeting. Shall I still come? I could just drop you and wait in the parking lot.”
I stared at my hands on my lap. I wanted to go back in time and do a better job resisting him in the first place. I wanted to go back and stick to my plan. But it was too late. And I wasn’t confident enough about presenting the technology myself. I’d let him design it out from under me, in the guise of helping me. My blood began to heat again as my brain spun. What the hell could his actual angle even be? He was the CEO already. It wasn’t like he hoped to climb the corporate ladder based on this big win.
“Let’s go,” I bit out. I needed to win this account. I needed to impress the MLB people and get them to commit. And when I’d done that, secured my position and hopefully a raise, I’d figure everything else out. “One thing,” I said as Oliver guided the little car away from the curb. “Your career is already made, Mr. Big Dick CEO, but this is my chance. Or it was supposed to be. If you’re involved…” Would the credit all go to him?
“The credit is yours. It was your idea. I just helped refine a good technology repurposed by a smart analyst. You might end up saving the company with this, Holland.” We drove in silence for a moment, and then he grinned and shot me a look. “ ‘Big Dick CEO’?”
I glared at him. I couldn’t worry about what he thought of my nickname for him—which was way more appropriate than “Hale,” by the way—and I couldn’t think about whatever trouble Cody Tech might be in. I had too much to think about getting ready to present. Everything else—the ferocious anger I felt at Oliver for lying to me, the insatiable lust welling up inside me in reaction to seeing him in that suit, the confusion I felt over why he’d done what he did—it would all have to wait.
We rode in silence the rest of the way to the meeting, with the exception of Oliver saying very quietly before we got out of the car, “You look amazing, by the way.” And then, as we walked into the building, his breath hot on my neck as he whispered in my ear, “Your ass looks incredible in that skirt.”
When we arrived in the lobby, we were ushered to a boardroom and introductions were made, though it seemed Oliver needed little introduction.
We met with Anton Mitchell and four other men, though once Oliver had been identified as the CEO of Cody Tech, the baseball people seemed to decide to take the meeting more seriously, and three more men and a woman joined us at the long table. I was nervous as hell, my hands sweating and my voice shaking as I began introducing the idea. I scanned the room of faces as I spoke, each of them impassive and skeptical as I went through my slides, and I began to feel like I was bombing, like this entire thing was a bust. In desperation, I let my eyes drift to Oliver’s. He smiled and nodded, the dark orbs glinting and a faint smile on his lips. Despite my anger with him, it was a comfort to see him sitting there, to feel his support. To know I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t imagine what this would have been like without him here. Especially once it was time to dig into the details of the technology.
“I’m going to step aside for a moment and let Mr. Cody present the technical aspects of this solution,” I told the group, relieved to be about to drop out of the spotlight for a few minutes.
Oliver dropped a hand on my shoulder as we passed at the side of the room, and I handed him the clicker to advance the slides. “Great job,” he whispered.
I doubted his sincerity, but it was nice to hear. I sat next to one of the men we’d been introduced to and turned to listen to Oliver.
“Most of you know how Cody Tech got started,” he said. “But just in case you don’t, I’ll bore you with the story for just a moment because it’s pertinent to what Ms. O’Dell and I are here showing you today.” In front of the room, dressed in a charcoal suit and an emerald-green tie, Oliver looked every bit the CEO, and nothing like the down-and-out jerk I’d met at the coffeehouse. He held himself with complete confidence as he moved fluidly in the front of the room, making eye contact with each person in attendance, a slight smile making the cut of his jaw less threatening. He was like a big cat, prowling before it makes a kill. I watched him, looking for traces of that sad lost man I’d met before, looking for Hale—the man I’d allowed further into my life than anyone in the past few years. Oliver was regal and confident—he met my eye every now and then, and in those split seconds I got a quick impression of Hale. I felt him more than saw him, but it was a small comfort, and it made me forget how angry I was at him.
Oliver finished up, and I was glad he’d come when the assembled baseball executives began volleying questions at him about the technology. He handled the questions gracefully, and by the time he’d finished, he’d somehow managed to make it seem like this was a done deal, like baseball had no real choice but to implement this technology, though nothing had been signed yet. It was an impressive tactic, one I hoped I might be able to emulate someday. If nothing else, this shinier version of Hale could teach me a hell of a lot, though I wasn’t sure how much I’d be hanging out with the CEO of my company now that I knew the truth. And once this presentation was over, would there be any need for us to hang out, anyway?
We spent another half hour shaking hands and discussing follow-up documentation and the next meeting, and I struggled with warring emotions. I was furious with Oliver. Why the hell had he lied to me? Why had he perpetuated the lie for so long? I was also almost gleeful about the way the meeting had gone. What would this mean for my future? Would it be the ticket to move up that I’d been counting on? Or had Oliver smashed that possibility just by being who he is?
“Nailed it,” Oliver whispered as we slid out the front doors of the building into the streaming sunlight of the parking lot. His hand dropped to the small of my back and I looked up at him. He wore a bright, happy smile, the first of its kind I’d seen on his face since we’d met. Business clearly agreed with him.
“Thanks to you,” I allowed, hoping my complete confusion didn’t affect my voice. I felt a fresh wave of anger and confusion overtake me as he turned the smile to me and we stopped walking for a moment.
“Your idea,” he said. “Holland…this could be a really big deal for the company. It could…” He rubbed a hand across his jaw, glancing around the parking lot as if searching for words. “There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” he said.
I nodded. That was kind of an understatement. “I get it. The company has been vulnerable. This will help.”
He watched me speak, and I had the feeling he was taking in more than I wanted him to. He opened his mouth to answer, and I cut him off.
“If you’ll drop me at home, I can get my car.”
“I thought we might take a few minutes and talk. Maybe grab some coffee? Not at work, though.” Hope lit the dark eyes, but I was too confused to spend another minute with him. I needed some time to think through all that had happened.
I shook my head and turned toward the car. “I’d better just get back to work. I missed Friday,” I reminded him. “And no one knew about this meeting.”
“Worried you’ll be in trouble?” He almost laughed as he unlocked the doors and pulled my door open for me.
I shot him a look. “Yes, actually. Some of us need our jobs and can’t just disappear for months at a time.”
Oliver didn’t answer, but his mouth closed and he shut my door and slid into the car on the other side without a word. We drove to my apartment in a strained silence, and I pushed the door open almost before he could pull to a full stop out front.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful,” he said.
I sensed he wanted to say more, but I just shook my head. I couldn’t talk. I needed time to think. I was out of the car, reaching in for my bag when he added, “You did well today. I’ll see you at the office, Holland.” His voice had turned sad, all the executive authority drained from it.
“Bye,” I said, turning and escaping into my building.
—
I didn’t take long to think at home, just paced around inside for a few minutes. Oliver had already changed so many things in my life that even my apartment reminded me of him now. I couldn’t look at my frilly pink bedroom without hearing him call me “duchess” or remembering all that had happened in there. And the piles of notes on which he’d written and doodled as we’d worked that weekend were stacked on my table. His number hung from the corkboard. Everywhere I looked, he was there.
