Page 50 of Conning the Billionaire
Micah’s briefcase was lying on the coffee table. Paper documents peeked out the top of the leather bag.
Kylie snatched them.
“Hey!” Micah grabbed at the paperwork and missed, and then he turned back to his computer. “No, nothing. Housekeeping came early, and they’re tidying up and nearly confiscated my coffee.” He glared at Kylie. “Please give that back.”
But he didn’t stand up and take it from her.
Because he couldn’t.
If Micah stood up, his tight boxer briefs and the thick bulge therein would be visible to the computer camera because he wasn’t wearing pants.
If he reached over and shut the laptop, the camera would swing down as it closed, so the view would also be of his crotch.
He couldn’t chase her.
Oh, no, if it wasn’t the consequences of his own sartorial decisions.
Kylie rustled the papers and angled them toward the overhead lights.
Micah cleared his throat and glared at Kylie while the woman on the computer talked at him.
Kylie read the documents.
The letterhead read Shine Industries.
Shine Industries? Such a pretentious name for a company. It seemed like his company was manufacturing something, but whether it was widgets or aglets or intercontinental ballistic missiles, Kylie couldn’t tell. But they did seem to be making things.
And Shine Industries was making a healthy profit. While some numbers for Materials and Labor had been printed in red on a spreadsheet, the Net Profit column was typed in black with plus signs.
So he was good at business.
Kylie grabbed another handful of paper from the briefcase.
Micah scrambled after her. “Those are confidential.”
She grinned at him and started reading them, peeking at him over the tops of the pages.
He scowled as he turned back to the screen, growling, “Housekeeping staff, again.”
The woman’s voice spoke from the computer, “Och, why don’t ye throw her out, then?”
Still glowering at her over the laptop, Micah said, “She’ll behave, or she’ll get a spanking.”
“Oh, Micah, are ye seducing the house staff again, ye rogue? You do have a penchant for tupping the serving wenches.”
Kylie suppressed a laugh so that it sounded like a belch.
Micah growled at the computer, “That was a one-time indiscretion.”
“Just make sure she’s not an industrial spy like the last one, won’t you? Terrible, that was, when Mecha International underbid us by one penny, and we lost the contract.”
Micah’s expression smoothed, and he looked down. “It won’t happen again.”
Oh, wow, Kylie was learning boatloads about Micah by eavesdropping. This was fascinating.
As were the documents she held.
One of the pages appeared to be a list of art pieces, their artists, and their owners.
