Power Play - Tiffany Snow Page 0,55

in. He glanced at me and my eyes skittered quickly away.

“I got you some coffee,” I said, setting his cup on the desk. “I checked with the hotel. The conference room will be ready to go and I requested a coffee and pastry service to be set up.” Routine was good. Routine was normal.

Parker had already packed his laptop in its case so I packed mine, then glanced around to make sure I had everything I needed and that Parker had everything he needed.

“Sage, I think we should talk.”

My panicked gaze jerked to his. He’d finished his tie—a perfect Windsor knot, as usual—and had stepped closer.

“You’re joking,” I said flatly, raising an eyebrow. My embarrassment was rapidly changing into irritation. I didn’t like feeling humiliated, and the very last thing I wanted to talk about was last night. “How about we just forget everything that happened? Because I know that’s what I want to do.” Right down to his apology in the dark and how he’d swiped the tear tracks from my cheek.

“Sage, I’m sor—”

“I swear to God if you apologize one more time, I’m walking out that door and you’ll never see me again,” I snapped, cutting him off. “Good Lord, I’ve never had a man be so sorry he kissed me in my entire life!”

Parker may have winced slightly at that. It was hard to tell.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then we won’t talk about it,” he said.

“Good, because I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

I could tell he was pissed, but for once I didn’t care. I was pissed, too, and frankly, I thought I had more of a right to my snit than he did to his. I couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened had the situation been reversed and I’d started coming on to him, then said, “Just kidding!”

We walked to the elevator in stiff silence and were the only ones in the car. I kept my distance, leaving at least two feet between myself and Parker. The doors were metal, our reflections staring back at us, which was super awkward. I gazed up at the floor display, watching the numbers slowly decrease.

“Technically, it wasn’t a real kiss.”

I opened my mouth to unload a good piece of my mind on him, but the elevator doors slid open, revealing a handful of people waiting.

“After you,” Parker said.

I gave him a look that said exactly what I thought of him arguing semantics with me, then preceded him out of the elevator and down the hall to our conference room, already packed with half a dozen suit-clad men, all waiting for Parker and Viktor. Viktor arrived ten minutes after we did.

The day flew by in a haze of work and copies, phone calls, and typing. Mid-afternoon brought the only other woman—Tania. I had no idea why she was there, but she took a seat next to me. It made me slightly uncomfortable given the staring she’d done last night, but I tried to be friendly and make the best of it. Maybe it was just some kind of cultural thing.

“I don’t know about you,” I said in an undertone to her, “but I’m exhausted. Is it happy hour yet?” I smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. Okay, then. I backpedaled. “I’m sorry. Just making small talk, you know.” She still didn’t reply, so I just heaved a mental sigh. Maybe she didn’t speak English? We sat at a small table in the corner, while the men took up the long cherry conference table covered in paper, laptops, and files.

“I need your help,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She had an accent just like Viktor and his cronies, and apparently knew English just fine.

“Excuse me?” I must have misheard her.

She glanced at the men, her eyes zeroing in on Viktor, before speaking again. “I need your help,” she repeated. “Please. I can’t talk here. Follow me to the bathroom.” Her lips barely moved as she spoke, as though she didn’t want anyone to know she was talking to me.

Before I could ask anything more about the weird turn the conversation had just taken, she suddenly jerked away from me.

“Tania, are you tiring of the business talk?”

I glanced up and saw that Viktor had approached. He rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Tania was about my height, though slighter than me. I wore a six and I guessed she probably wore a two. So when he squeezed her shoulder, I could

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