Page 48 of The Billionaire in Her Bed

Chapter Twelve

“Eli.” Simon greeted him at his office door. “You’re looking well rested. How was Tibet? I wanted to contact you, but Ginny said you needed some time away from everything to…”

“Fuck Tibet.” Eli pushed his way past his former friend and business partner and threw a folder down on his desk. It had been burning a hole through his hands ever since Ginny gave it to him, about an hour after he’d gotten her text message. His next move was a terse call to Simon, asking to meet him at Momentum, well past business hours, when no one else was around to eavesdrop on what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation. And that was putting it mildly. “What the hell is this?”

Simon followed Eli into the room and took a seat in the high-backed leather chair behind his equally impressive mahogany desk. Unlike Eli’s office, which was all sleek glass and polished steel, Simon had gone for rich leather and dark wood, giving the room a traditional, sophisticated feel. He flipped the folder open, his face blanching as he leafed through the contents.

“I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his close-cropped blond hair.

“That makes two of us.” Eli sat in one of the two only slightly smaller, less imposing guest chairs.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you get these?”

“That’s not important.” Eli wasn’t about to get sidetracked. He reached across the desk and jabbed a finger at the picture on top of the pile, which showed Krystal, the eager, young, and, not coincidentally, attractive PA Simon had hired not six months ago, sitting with Noel Dupree at what looked like a Starbucks. An eight by ten manila envelope, fat with papers, sat on the table between them. “Why is your PA meeting with our biggest competitor, the man who beat us to the punch on our last four projects?”

Simon slammed the folder shut and slumped in his chair, his face now drawn as well as pale. “I have no idea.”

Eli leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You seriously expect me to believe you had nothing to do with this? I’ve suspected you were working with Dupree since we lost the East Harlem building. You and I were the only ones who knew about that project.”

Simon’s hands went limp. “And that’s why you took off for Tibet?”

“I wasn’t in Tibet.” Eli didn’t elaborate, just sat with his jaw clenched and his hands folded in his lap until Simon broke the silence.

“Momentum is mine, too. We built it together. Why would I do anything to jeopardize that?”

“I don’t know.” Eli fixed him with a hard, piercing glare. “You tell me.”

Simon’s jaw was set, his tone insistent. “I wouldn’t. Not intentionally.”

“What do you mean, ‘not intentionally’?” Eli scoffed.

“I might have let something slip to Krystal.” Simon buried his head in his hands. His voice was muffled and small. “In bed.”

“You’re fucking her?” Eli swore under his breath. How could his partner be so stupid? “I thought we agreed. No dipping our wicks in the company ink.”

“Was. She dumped me last week.” Simon lifted his head. He looked at bad as Eli felt. The dilated pupils. The sweaty palms. The labored breathing. Either the guy was having a heart attack, or he was telling the truth about Krystal. “Not my finest moment, I know. I let my dick do the thinking, and I’m sorry.”

“Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt and wore it out.” Eli let out a short, scornful laugh. But his words were flat, devoid of anger. Instead, looking at Simon, he felt nothing but pity and a strange sense of understanding. Hadn’t he had sex with Brooke hours after meeting her? Of course, their relationship had progressed way past a casual hookup, but he had no way of knowing where they were headed when he screwed her sideways on a futon in the back room of a dive bar. He steepled his fingers over his chest and refocused on the reason for his visit. “But I’m not here to talk about your love life. Or mine. I’m here to find out what the fuck your assistant’s doing with Dupree.”

“I told you, I didn’t have anything to do with that.” Simon sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s as much a surprise to me as it is to you.”

Eli tilted his head. “Give me one reason why I should believe you.”

“I can’t.” Simon seemed to sink farther into his chair, his posture screaming defeat. “Except that I have as much invested in Momentum as you do. Selling out to Dupree would be entirely against my self-interest.”

He had a point there, one that hadn’t escaped Eli. But that left one huge, unanswered question. “Why would Krystal do this on her own?”

“I don’t know.” Simon’s eyebrows pulled together. “But now that I think of it, she has been a little off lately.”

Eli smirked, remembering the last time he’d seen his partner’s assistant, sitting at her desk, filing her nails. She hadn’t even bothered to look up at him when he’d asked to see Simon. “With her, how can you tell?”

Simon reopened the folder and flipped through the pictures. “These are good. How did you get them?”

“I’ve had a PI following Dupree for a few weeks.”

“Smart move.” Simon picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers. “But we’re going to need more evidence to prove Krystal violated her non-disclosure agreement.”

Eli leaned back in his chair and crossed an ankle over one knee. “What do you mean ‘we’?”