Billionaire's Captive Complete Trilogy - Stasia Black Page 0,2

the trash. “I wouldn’t bug you about this but—”

“No, no, I’m glad you’re bugging me. I have to go to the gala.”

“Donations from the Ubeli foundation are still a significant part of our R&D budget,” Rachel recites. “Without the Ubeli’s generosity, Belladonna would’ve shut down year one.”

“I know, I know.” I stand and stretch. “I’ve been going to these since I was a teen.” A gangly, awkward girl, out of her depth among the glamour and glitter of the highest echelons of New Olympus society.

Ten years hasn’t changed much. I’m taller. And still can’t wear heels for shit. “Oh gods, how am I going to get through this?”

“It’ll be fine. Cora Ubeli likes you.”

“Cora Ubeli is the supreme ruler of high society. She’ll be surrounded by people. And I usually go there with Dad.” This is the first year I’ll be alone.

Rachel picks up the rose and toys with it. “Maybe you’ll meet…” she deepens her voice playfully. “your secret admirer.”

“I do not have a secret admirer.”

“Then who sent this beautiful rose?”

My chair creaks as I sink into it. “Probably my dad.”

“I thought you asked your dad if it was him and he vehemently denied it.”

“Yeah, well, of course,” I roll my eyes.

Rachel points the rose at me. “Dr. Laurel is a genius, but he can’t lie worth a damn. If he said it wasn’t him, then it’s someone else.”

“Like who?” Locked doors and tight security don’t deter the annual delivery. Last year I even checked the delivery records and the security cameras in the lobby. Nothing. Whoever left the rose snuck in and out of the building like a ghost.

She flashes her eyebrows. “Adam Archer.”

“No.” I pretend to organize a pile of papers on my desk, but my cheeks are two Bunsen burners.

“He wants in your pants,” she singsongs, switching seamlessly from Rachel The Very Professional Executive Assistant to Rachel The Teasing Matchmaking Friend.

“Adam Archer does not want me like that,” I wave a hand. “Adam is…” I shake my head. “He’s just an old friend. The only thing he’s interested in is the business merger. That’s the only reason we’ve been spending more time together lately.”

“Friends don’t look at friends like he looks at you.”

“He’s like an older brother.” A smoking hot, unrelated, older brother—but seriously, it’s not like that. “He’s known me since I was a girl. He doesn’t like me. Not that way.” I push back a stray lock of my hair.

Rachel scoffs. “I’m pretty sure he does. He’s asked you out several times.”

“Those are working lunches.”

“And dinners. He also took you to the aquarium. And the symphony.”

“That was a good opportunity to network. Some of the board was there, too.”

She narrows her eyes. “Would it be so terrible if he was into you? He’s pretty hot. New Olympus’ Most Eligible Bachelor like five years in a row. Plus he’s heir to the Archer fortune.”

“I just…well, he’s him. And I’m…” My hands flutter helplessly. “I’m me.”

“And you’re fabulous.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m a good researcher. Not so great at anything else.”

“Not true,” Rachel says gently. “I know you’re inexperienced when it comes to men.”

“Understatement of the year,” I snort. “I’ve never been on a date.” Never even been kissed.

“You’ve never realized you’ve been on a date,” she corrects. “There’s a difference. Because I’m pretty sure all these outings with Adam count as dates. He’s just such a gentleman, he’s taking it slow.”

“Do you really think he’s…into me?” Into me? Do they even say that any more? Kill me now, I sound like a teenager. Which, okay, socially, I am. But really, I can’t even wrap my head around what she’s suggesting. I spent all my early teens studying, not partying. I got into college early and threw myself into a research path as soon as humanly possible, following in the footsteps of my brilliant father.

“Why don’t you meet with him tonight and ask him? He wanted to know if you were coming. He had his office call.”

I flush even hotter and shuffle some papers on my desk. “He probably wants to discuss the merger.”

“Maybe he does. Or maybe he’s interested in ‘merging’ in more ways than one.” She hops off the desk and shimmies her hips, singing, “bow chicka wow wow.”

“La la la, I can’t hear you.” I laugh, covering my ears. Then I close my eyes as she continues grinding. “Or see you.”

She smacks me on the shoulder and I drop my hands. “You know you love me.”

I roll my eyes. She’s right, though, I

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