them. But yachts around the world, models in bikinis, and a party pill or two did absolute wonders for burying insecurities. They thought I was capable of doing more with my life, but I preferred to use what little work ethic I had to prove them wrong—it’s hard being a 24/7 hot mess.
“You were at the office?” Kane asked, narrowing his ice-blue eyes at me.
I leaned back, resting my head in my hands after finishing Shay’s drink he’d kindly offered to me.
“That’s right,” I said with a nod. “I was at the office working very hard. There was a board meeting.”
Shay leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.
“You went to a board meeting dressed like that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in obvious disbelief.
I tugged at my clothes with a confused frown. “You don’t like my clothes?”
“The lipstick is an interesting choice,” Kane said between sips of his whiskey.
“Oh, is there some lipstick?” I asked, dabbing delicately at the very corner of my mouth with the tip of a white silk napkin despite knowing full well that it was smeared all over my cheek.
Shay grinned at me as he scratched the greying stubble along his sharp jawline. “You didn’t answer my question, Ronan.”
“What question?” I asked, twirling my finger around the loose thread on my suit jacket where a button had been a few minutes earlier.
Shay thanked the waitress as she delivered another round before refocusing his attention on me.
“You were at your board meeting tonight?” he asked. “You were in the boardroom wearing what you’re wearing right now?”
I twirled the cocktail straw around the muddled cherries and razor-thin orange peel. The corners of my lips tugged up. “Well, I was near the boardroom, yes.”
Kane snorted.
“What?” I protested, throwing up my hands. “I had some very important business to conduct with my COO’s secretary.”
Shay eyed the lipstick on my collar and the missing button on my suit jacket. “The one with the nice ass?”
I feigned shock, clutching desperately at my heart. “Mr Kavanagh, how dare you!” I slammed my palms flat on the table and grinned internally at what was no doubt a wave of angry looks from other patrons. “I, sir, am a gentleman.”
Kane plopped a cherry between his lips. “Shay, there’s no way Ronan was with the secretary with the nice ass. You know Ronan’s a tit man.”
Shay snapped his fingers. “Ah, that’s right.”
I pointed a finger at each of them. “Gentlemen, I resent these implications.”
Kane crossed his arms and levelled his eyes at me. “Then tell us what ‘important business’ you had to conduct with this secretary whose derriere you most certainly did not take notice of?”
I studied my nails as I casually said, “We were taking inventory.”
“Taking inventory?” Shay asked, his voice full of doubt. “As a CEO, you were taking inventory?”
I nodded. “What can I say? I’m a man of the people, my friends.”
Kane lowered his eyes to my loafer resting on my other knee and raised a dark eyebrow. “Do ‘the people’ wear Burberry?”
“They’re Prada.”
He rolled his eyes and I stuck out my tongue at him.
“Taking inventory of what?” Shay interjected, waving his hand between Kane and me.
I shrugged. “You know, office supplies and such.”
Kane repeated this, clearly amused, “Office supplies and such?”
I held back a grin and shrugged, saying again, “Office supplies and such.”
I slurped noisily at my drink as Shay tapped his thick, calloused fingers against the lip of his glass. “So, what, like pens?”
I hid my smile behind my Manhattan. “A pen.”
“Huh?”
I snorted into my drink and bubbles popped against my nose. “It was just one pen we were inventorying,” I told them.
Shay sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You said you were in the boardroom, Ronan.”
I let my head fall lazily over my shoulder and waved my empty glass at the waitress. I dragged my head back up and pointed my pinkie at Shay.
“No, I said I was near the boardroom,” I corrected, grinning devilishly. “The supply closet is right next to the boardroom.”
Shay groaned.
“I guess you can’t teach class,” Kane grumbled.
I laughed. “Au contraire, mon ami, I teach myself class each and every day.”
Shay leaned back against the dark suede of his chair and crossed his big forearms across his wide chest.
“How’s that?” he asked. “Because from where I’m sitting, friend, you don’t exactly look like a member of the royal family.”
I took my next round straight from the waitress’s tray and sipped it while shaking my head.
“See, there’s your problem,” I explained, the sweet