Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) - Fiona Cole Page 0,28

to struggle to meet the demand of other projects.”

“About that.” Ryan flipped through some papers before pulling one with scribbled notes to the top. “Ms. Barrone offered an exceptional plan that has a few kinks but could definitely work. She briefly jotted notes of a schedule and organization that is different from what we usually do but has merit. Especially for one created in the moment. With more details and time, she could create a functioning plan.” My lip curled at the same time my cock twitched in my pants. “Don’t look too excited,” Ryan deadpanned.

Even after the weekend—after my tryst with the vixen in red—I couldn’t get Verana off my mind. My dreams started with the masked woman in my arms, only for her to turn and tug off her mask to reveal brown eyes that screamed innocence and devilry all at once. I’d hoist her in my arms, and before she could sink onto my cock, she would whisper, “I’m a liar, but I can make it worth it.”

Counting to ten, I focused on relaxing my jaw and forcing my cock to focus on the lying part of the dream and not the wet heat.

“Send her in after lunch. She can go over her notes with me, and Angie can take it from there.”

Ryan froze, blinking slowly. I liked Ryan as my assistant because he didn’t bother hiding his thoughts. I didn’t have to worry about him lying because they were always written all over his face moments before they came pouring out of his mouth. It didn’t matter that I was his boss; he gave it to me straight.

“Don’t.” I held up my hand, halting any reprimand about unfairly taking someone else’s idea and passing it off. “Angie has more experience, and maybe once we’re done with our meetings, she can meet with Ms. Barrone to review everything, and Ms. Barrone can use it as a learning opportunity.”

As long as I didn’t have to see her every day. The Sequirus project was mine, and I couldn’t put myself close to her like that.

Ryan’s lips pursed, and despite my logical reasoning, guilt still closed in.

“Anything else?” I asked, brushing it off.

“No. That was the bulk of it. I’ll send you the meeting minutes before the end of the day.”

“Thank you. Please, send Ms. Barrone in after lunch.”

“Yes, sir.”

I ignored the irritation coloring his tone and focused on the emails filling my inbox.

I worked through lunch to make up the missed morning, and soon after, a soft knock preambled Verana’s lithe form.

“You wanted to see me?” Her tone was cautious but hopeful. Obviously, Ryan hadn’t explained my plan. Maybe he had some misguided hope I’d change my mind.

“Come in. Sit. Please,” I added as an afterthought.

I watched her glide across the office in her black cropped pants and basic white blouse—pearls lining up perfectly with her sharp collarbone. She sat, and the opening of her shirt shifted. I swear, I almost also moved to see if I could get a glimpse of her cleavage. And that right there was all the reason I needed to stick to my decision to remove her from any possibility of this project.

Her eyes shifted from cautiously hopeful to guarded when they met my cold ones. Her whole demeanor went stiff, ready to defend her secrets.

“I heard you had some ideas at the meeting today.”

“I did.”

“Do you care to explain?” I asked slowly as if talking to a child. It was immature but added a splash of ice water between us.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d been there. Another wild weekend?” she asked with false sweetness.

I clenched my jaw, wanting to watch her eat her words when I let her know I was with my ailing grandfather. Instead, I didn’t play the games I wanted to, cutting right to the chase.

“Fine. Pass on your plan to Ms. Donald, and my team will handle it.”

“I’m more than capable of growing this plan.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Her mouth opened and closed over my condescending smile, too flustered to form a rebuttal. Good.

Her jaw clamped shut, and she pulled her shoulders back. She brushed her hair behind her ear, lifting her chin proudly.

Exposing a deep mark where her neck met her shoulder. Almost like a bite.

Her tongue slicked across her ruby red lips, and as if in Deja vu, my mind flashed to the vixen in my arms doing exactly the same thing. The same shape. The same perfect cupid’s bow on top. The same jaw. The same