Dark Kings (Feathers and Fate #1) - Sadie Moss Page 0,14

working for the personification of Greed, or that she’ll eventually sleep with him. Or that I irrationally hate her for it. “I’m here for my two o’clock appointment?”

The woman stares at me for a moment as panic flits across her features, then looks down at her calendar. I’m not on there, of course, because I don’t actually have an appointment. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong day. What’s your name?”

“Olivia… Pope.” My mouth snaps shut as soon as I say the word, and I barely resist the urge to bang my head against her desk. Come on, Trin! You couldn’t think of a single other name?

Fortunately, this woman must not’ve spent as many hours bingeing TV as I have, because she doesn’t bat an eye at the name I just gave her. Before she can speak, I rush on.

“I’m here from HDR,” I say with a smile. “Humane Dog Rescue? Mr. Davenport has been a generous donor in the past, and we’re hoping to start a new initiative with some prominent celebrity backers taking the spotlight to help us get more attention and funding. The head of our PR department thought that Mr. Davenport would be the perfect candidate given his past support of us so… here I am!”

I make a little ta-da gesture.

The woman looks like she got a bit lost during my long-winded explanation, but at my mention of Beckett having supported the organization before, she nods.

Clearly, she’s new enough to this job that she has no idea that’s a lie, but it works out well for me because she quickly gets up and leads me toward his office door.

“Of course. I’m so sorry your appointment wasn’t in our system. Right this way, please. He has another appointment at two-thirty, so I’m afraid you won’t have a lot of time.”

“That’s all right. Thanks.”

I grip my new briefcase tightly and follow quickly behind her. She gives me a polite smile, then pushes open the doors leading into Beckett’s massive office.

“Natalie, I thought I—” Beckett pauses as he turns, papers in hand, and sees that his secretary isn’t alone.

“Sir, Olivia Pope is here to see you,” Natalie says smoothly. “From Humane Dog Rescue?”

A tiny line appears between his brows as he takes me in, and I brace myself for him to order the woman to escort me right back out again—or to call security and have me hauled out.

But instead, he lifts a hand, dismissing his secretary with a small, sharp gesture. She slips from the room, closing the doors behind her as she goes and leaving me alone with Beckett.

For a brief moment, we just gaze at each other in silence.

I’ve never been at the receiving end of his attention before. Despite following him around for a week and literally living in the same penthouse as him, I’ve been invisible that whole time. He’s been just a few feet away from me on multiple occasions, but he’s never actually looked at me before. And now he’s definitely looking at me, those green eyes boring into me, and I feel like I’m pinned to the spot like a butterfly on a wall.

“Well, well.” Beckett cocks an eyebrow, his gaze trailing over my body. “What’s this about?”

I had a whole big speech prepared for this moment. I practiced it several times on the way over. Maybe it’s a bit of a stretch, but the one thing I’ve noticed about Beckett in the week I’ve been following him is that he seems to like dogs. All animals, really. He stopped on the street the other day to pet a Golden Retriever someone had tied up outside a coffee shop while they grabbed their latte inside—and it was the only time since I first encountered him that I’ve seen his features soften.

It’s not much, but it’s the only crack in his armor of self-involvement and avarice that I’ve been able to identify.

Anyway, I had a whole big pitch prepared about how this will benefit puppies in need, and how much of a difference he could make if he donates a portion of his profits to them.

But the words have all dried up. I can’t think of a single one. All I can do is stare at his thick, dark brows and his green eyes, his perfectly symmetrical features and his full lips.

He’s just so…

“…handsome,” I whisper before I can stop myself. It’s like my brain-to-mouth filter is completely broken. Oh no, is this a part of his ability as a sin? To