I can’t believe it, but my nipples actually prick when Kit steps up to the microphone. Is it possible that he’s even more handsome than I remember? His hair is standing up, going this way and that, his tie knotted loosely in the collar of his shirt with its top button undone.
He starts speaking in that lovely British accent. I try not to get sucked in by the deep timbre of his voice.
If I’ve learned one thing in the years I’ve worked as a designer it’s that good product design is like a good man. Both are rare.
It’s almost impossible to find a design good enough to compliment a good product, and it’s even harder to find a product good enough to match a good design. And the same goes for men: personality and good looks rarely go hand in hand, and I’m sure that Kit Walker is no exception to that rule.
It’s such a shame when the contents don’t match the packaging.
“When I told my father I was ready to get down to business,” Kit is saying, “he asked me, what business?” There’s laughter. “Because you see, Cupid’s Arrow is more like love than work to my father. This company has always been more like his family. It’s enough to make me jealous.”
He’s cool and casual and upbeat as he teases the crowd, acting like he’d just gotten an award for being the world’s most clever schoolboy or something. I can tell that he’s cocky and full of himself and I suddenly resent that. I also resent how the crowd is calling out to him from the sidelines, every employee thinking he can be chums with the new boss. Good grief. This guy has done absolutely nothing to earn his position. He hasn’t even worked a day at Cupid’s Arrow yet and everybody already loves him.
Or pretends to.
“Are you impressed by your team at Cupid’s Arrow, Kit?” one of the rowdier men calls out.
“Well, I have to say, I can’t wait to work with such a beautiful bunch of people,” Kit replies breezily, his attention finally falling on Erin from accounting, who’s been waving from the sidelines as if she’ll die if he doesn’t personally say hello to her very soon. She blushes when he finally acknowledges her with a smile and I’m embarrassed on her behalf. I really am. I wouldn’t like to be swooning so openly in front of him. But then I feel myself blush, thinking that maybe, when we met, I was wearing a besotted look just like Erin is.
“I must admit, inheriting Cupid’s Arrow represents a lot of firsts for me. And, well...the first time I rode a bike, I got a scar to prove it. I may make mistakes...” He pauses and looks at me then, as if all this time, he’s known exactly—exactly—where I’ve been standing in the crowd. Then in a lower voice, he goes on. “In fact, most assuredly I will make mistakes, but at the end of the day, I plan to get it right. I will bring Cupid’s Arrow into the new era with better service, a catchier design, a better slogan... Everyone into online dating and even those who aren’t will be using our app.”
This gets loud applause.
I can’t believe my new boss has got them all in an uproar. He’s never had a job in his life, and now he’s heading one of the largest companies in Chicago. As someone who has had a job ever since I was sixteen, it’s a bitter pill to swallow.
And I keep remembering how he looked at me when he talked about making mistakes, and I wonder why Alastair had to tell him I’d be his damn spy. Bloody hell, as these Brits would say.
Knotting up in discomfort, I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. Ben is behind me, his eyes half glazed in drunkenness and a smug smile on his lips.
“He seems to look forward to working with you,” he whispers. His breath stinks of alcohol. I turn my face away in annoyance.
“I need a little air,” I breathe, wanting to collect myself. I turn.
“Leaving so soon, Miss Croft?”
I turn back and Kit has his eyes fixed on me. He brushes his hair back from his face and though the move is casual, his gaze is anything but. The challenging gleam pins me in place.
Feeling defensive, I glare at him as he smiles slowly, raising an eyebrow at me.
“The party’s only just getting started,” he says as everyone watches. “Stay and play.”
His eyes slide to Ben, then back to me. I inhale nervously. Kit stares at me like he owns me. Well, I can stare back for as long as he wants to keep up this little charade. All night if I have to. He won’t get the better of me.
Kit’s grin only grows wider.
He pulls the microphone stand with him like a practiced stand-up comedian, his gait relaxed as he heads from center stage to his left. Now we’re directly opposite one another and only yards apart. Somehow, this power play is the most exciting part of the evening so far.
“Everyone,” he says softly, his lips close to the microphone. “It’s the woman of the hour, Alexandra Croft. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The way he says it makes me feel complimented and at the same time, exposed. Because his words make me flush. And my whole team can see it. I swallow, torn between glaring and turning away and meeting his gaze and demanding what it is he thinks he’s doing. What else has Alastair been saying about me to Kit?
Kit sits down at the front of the stage, his legs dangling over the edge. He smiles, his breathing magnified by the microphone.
“I hope you enjoy this party, Alex,” he says, a gleam in his whiskey eyes. “And I look forward to working with you as I...learn the ropes. Three cheers for Ms. Croft, everyone.”
There’s scattered applause again, but this time I sense a shift in the mood. No one could miss the tension between Kit and me. He smiles at me one last time before standing up and moving back to center stage.
“I think you’ve heard enough from me for now, folks. Let’s get wasted, yeah?”
I think everyone in the room cheers but me. I think everyone here likes Kit but me. I think everyone here is blind but me. Those amber eyes and all those sexy smiles don’t fool me one bit. I’ve seen beneath the surface, and I don’t like what’s there. Suddenly I want to be anywhere but here. Anywhere where that cocky kid isn’t sharing my oxygen.
I head to the bathroom and splash my face with water, not caring when my mascara dribbles down my cheeks. Kit has wound me up so tight that I feel like anything could happen.
I went from dreaming of kissing him all week to wanting to knock him off his high horse. He’s good. He’s got everyone wrapped around his little finger. He’s got women laughing at jokes at their expense. Because every woman loves a bad boy, right? Well, not me.
After I redo my makeup, I go back into the hall, hoping to find Ellie so that we can head home. Instead I spot Ben, Alastair and Tim at the bar. I head over. “Alastair, can we talk?”
Alastair nods and draws me closer, guiding me to stand near an unoccupied table nearby. “Aren’t you having a good time?”
“In all honesty? No, I’m not. I’m...concerned about this whole thing. Does your son know that I’m supposed to report his...progress to you?”
I know the answer, but I can’t very well admit to overhearing their conversation, can I?
Alastair puts a hand on my arm, looking into my eyes. “Of course, Alex. He’s my boy, he needs to know that I’m going to be watching his every move. Why? You’re not going to quit on me now, are you?” He teases, a light smile on his lips.
“I am not a quitter,” I promise. “But I also feel uncomfortable being put up against my new boss like that.”
Alastair’s face softens. “Of course you do, Alex. But don’t look at it that way. That’s the mistake he’s making, too. You’re on the same team. Why do you think I asked you to get involved? You can help that boy.”
I shake my head in anger. “No. I really don’t know that I can help him at all or that he wants my help.”
“Ah. You’re just backing away from a challenge.” Alastair steps away from me coolly. “I thought you were better than that, Alex.”
“Alastair, I’m not sure this is something I can do. I don’t know if I can work with someone who may not take work as seriously as I do and I’m not sure...” I trail off.
That I can get along with your son, seeing the hostile gleam in his eyes.
I went from being the girl who could relate to him on our first introduction to his enemy in the space of a week. I hate that that happened and hate that I feel physically drawn to him regardless of the wall that’s now gone up between us.
Alastair sighs, removing a key card from the dozens of keys he has in his pocket. “If you need a breather, go up to the suite I’ve rented and think this over. You’ll have the place to yourself. I know you’ll feel differently in an hour or so.”
“I won’t. Please ask someone else, Alastair,” I beg.
“Your stubbornness will be your downfall, Alex.” Alastair sighs and for the first time, I see a tiredness in his expression that’s never been there before. “Do you think I wanted to see my youngest son turn out like this? I’m asking you to help me. As an old friend. If you don’t think you can do that, then I guess you’re not the person I thought you were.”
Alastair leaves the key card on the table and walks away. I’m left alone in a sea of people enjoying the night. I long to walk straight out the door and head home. But Alastair’s right. I’m not a quitter. I can’t let some reckless British trust funder ruin my career. I snatch up the key card and head up to Alastair’s hotel room to settle my mood.