Page 23 of Wicked Dares
“Alright.” Dad nods. “Let’s have coffee and continue for another hour.”
I loathe the relief I feel at not having my father’s attention on me. This kind of shit shouldn’t even be happening. I’m the one who’s supposed to be calling the shots, not my client. If Arthur wasn’t so important to us, I’d kick his ass to the curb.
Dad buzzes his secretary to ask for coffee, then looks through the next batch of documents we need to discuss.
While paper shifts across the table, I glance out the floor-to-ceiling glass wall and try to get lost in the surrounding buildings. But I can’t. Arthur Lockwood has created a genuine problem I don’t want to deal with.
The door opens. I turn at the sound.
A tray with five large coffee mugs appears first, before the person carrying it, then a shock of red hair that instantly catches my attention.
More red hair comes into view, and a young woman steps in, dressed in black. She lifts her head, and I freeze.
Holy fucking hell. No way.
My pulse trips.
It’s her.
The girl from last night.
My butterfly.
For a moment, I wonder if I conjured her from my mind. I’ve been thinking about her so much, anything feels possible. But then she sees me, too, and her skin pales.
Her hands tremble and she drops the tray. Coffee goes everywhere, but those bright hazel eyes are fixed on me.
The same lips I kissed for hours last night part and tremble.
The same eyes that melted every time I touched her widen on me now in utter mortification.
Fuck, it really is her.
The butterfly has flown right into my lair again, with her perfect body and that gorgeous hair.
I can’t resist the smile that tugs at my lips.
Chapter Five
PIPER
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
No way is this happening.
It can’t be him. How can it be?
It’s not possible.
My brain can’t catch up to what my eyes are seeing, and there’s coffee everywhere—across the gray carpet, my dress, and the toes of someone’s very expensive shoes.
All I can do is stand there with my hands shaking and my heart hammering so hard I’m sure all of New York can hear it.
And…
God, it’s really him.
Mr. Wicked.
