Big Dick Energy - Cindi Madsen Page 0,73

with an orange jumpsuit.

While Archer looked as dashing as ever in his slate gray suit, he did seem a bit frazzled. His hair was kind of disheveled, he hadn’t shaved, and his brow furrowed as he took in his audience. Almost as though he didn’t know how he’d gotten here or where here was.

I opened my mouth to offer to go first if he needed a minute, but he wouldn’t look at me, even when I placed my hand on his arm. I lowered my voice to just above a whisper. “Archer? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said. Still no eye contact. Not even the slightest turn of his head.

A dreadful sense of foreboding crept through me, undoing the half hour of meditation I’d done this morning.

Archer ran his hand down his blue tie. Then he fastened the top button of his suit, that small movement instantly leaving him looking more put together.

No need to freak out, I assured myself. This doesn’t mean that my declaration of love scared him, or that he thinks we’re going too fast.

For all I knew, his presentation prep involved being on autopilot.

Yeah. That was totally feasible.

Suddenly his signature charm appeared, softening the pinch of his features and revealing the guy who’d cut me off during our first meetings. “Big day. I, for one, can’t wait see the Pythons complex once it’s all built. I’d love nothing more than to be there on opening night, sitting in the stands, drinking Las Hermanas whiskey, and basking in the buzz of an exciting game. I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

Muttered agreements went around the room. Everyone perked up in their seats, fully engaging in what Archer was saying.

An unnerving thought drifted up, one that suggested he’d been playing me for a fool the entire time.

Without giving it the chance to fully latch on, I batted it away. I might’ve misread people before, but a con like that was on a whole other level, and I refused to believe the man I was in love with was capable of stooping that low.

You’ve thought that before.

Shut up, brain. Ron doesn’t compare to Archer on any level, so we’re not going there.

Crap. I’d missed the last part of his introduction. Or had he started his presentation? Why wasn’t he setting up his laptop? Did he need me to do it?

Do not, under any circumstances, offer to help him set up. He was late. You have your own presentation to give.

“…to thank you all for this huge opportunity. Visiting the stadium and meeting the players was a dream I’ve had for a long time.”

Why did it sound like he was giving a farewell speech? More, why was he acting like I didn’t exist? I felt like one of those movie characters who hadn’t realized they were a ghost, so they just kept on walking around and talking to people, baffled as to why they didn’t get a response.

Only I’d spoken with every single person in this room this morning, even Archer.

“All that said, after working with Penelope for this past month, our ideas have merged quite a bit…”

Come again? That was news to me, and given our vast opinions on several points, downright impossible.

“I’m confident that you’ll be happy with the blueprints she’s designed. Her vision is amazing—one that’d be hard to beat.”

Okay, no more Ms. Nice Girlfriend-Coworker-Person. I stepped right in front of Archer, so that he couldn’t avoid me any longer. “What are you doing?” I whispered, well aware my exasperation meant our audience probably heard the question, in addition to my irritation behind it.

Archer dipped his head and lowered his voice, doing a better job of keeping the volume to a two-person conversation than I had. “I’m not going to present my blueprints. That way, you can design the complex.”

“What’s going on?” Mr. Bishop bellowed from his spot, a frown marring his face.

I vice-gripped Archer’s arm and propped a smile onto my lips. “Please excuse us. There’s been a minor miscommunication, and we just need to iron out a couple of details superfast.”

Without waiting for Archer to agree, I dragged him out of the conference room and across the hall to the kitchen. It seemed like as good a place as any. I just had to mind the carpet this time so I wouldn’t fall. The kicking him in the head, however, wasn’t out of the question. I slammed the door behind us and engaged the lock. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you want,”