Raine (Gods of the Fifth Floor #2) - M.V. Ellis Page 0,32
a calm and inscrutable mask. Sometimes I really hated the fact that he had the poker face from hell. It was part of the control freak side of his personality, which all stemmed from his childhood shit, and came in very useful often, especially in business negotiations. However, it was annoying as fuck in circumstances like this, when I wanted to get a jump on what he was thinking or feeling, so that I could come at him to persuade him around to my point of view.
He handed the papers to Beck, who did a double take, his eyebrows shooting up almost to his hairline. He sometimes had a good game face too, but this wasn’t one of those times.
“Why the hell didn’t you show us these before?” He handed the papers off to Dillon who glanced through them, his face broadening into a grin. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Holy shit. What do you mean, why didn’t I tell you? Before when? We’re just talking about it now.”
“Yeah, but if you’d led with these, the conversation might have gone quite differently. These are fucking brilliant.”
“Right? She’s a graphic designer. Art school. The full nine. I’m thinking we get her to illustrate the whole thing.”
“I mean, it would definitely be a point of difference visually. We could even get them animated.”
“Yes! I love it.”
“And that tagline is pretty damned perfect, too. But still, part of me is screaming that we should run in the opposite direction.”
“Why? I mean Raine and an exceedingly pretty PA-slash graphic designer spending long hours alone together. What could possibly go wrong?” Dillon had that British sarcasm thing going on big time.
“Literally everything. And that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Of course you are, but that’s because you’re a control freak.”
“No, Raine, it’s because I’m a responsible adult. More specifically, I’m the responsible adult who is tasked with the near-impossible job of keeping your nose clean, pun very much intended, and the wheels on the agency wagon. That is hard enough at the best of times, let alone in the current circumstances. And while we’re on the subject. Have you been home? Please tell me you didn’t have her here working straight through last night, or worse still...?”
“Are you asking me if I’ve fucked her?”
“No, I’m asking if the Pope is a Catholic. Of course I’m asking if you’ve fucked her.”
“Why?”
“Because we all just really enjoy living vicariously through you and your sexual exploits, that’s why. Don’t be an obtuse fucker. I’m asking because if you haven’t already done the deed, that puts a whole different spin on this situation.”
“Well, I guess you’ll be pleased to hear that I haven’t even looked at her that way, let alone touched her.”
“And now we know you’re lying through your teeth. Caught with your hands in the biscuit tin, again.” Dillon cracked me up even when he wasn’t trying.
“I’m serious D. I haven’t even sniffed her way.”
“Who are you and what in the merry hell have you done with Raine?”
“Very funny. Trust me. This isn’t that. The thought hasn’t even crossed my mind, except to think she’s not my type.”
“It’s weird. He looks like Raine, he sounds like Raine, and he smells like a fucking distillery, so it should be Raine, yet the script is all wrong. Otherwise, he’d be the perfect clone. I wonder how they disposed of the body, or if they’ve taken him back to their planet to study human man-slut behavior.”
“Very funny, Bumble. This is legit, I swear.”
“Define legit. How is she not your type? She is off-the-charts gorgeous with a banging body to die for. She’s one hundred and eighty seven percent your type.”
“Don’t let the Mrs. hear you talking that way, Beck, you’ll be in the doghouse, for sure.”
“What? No, I won’t. I’m in love, not in a coma. She knows that I only have eyes for her in any meaningful sense of the word—and always have done—but I’m not blind. I can still objectively appreciate a beautiful woman when I see one. She’s totally fine with that.”
“Whatever you say. My point still stands. This is purely professional and legit. She’s just about the most uptight person I’ve ever met. That’s what makes her not my type. Biggest boner killer ever.”
“Wait. You’re actually serious? You think you can do this without fucking her, and therefore screwing this whole thing up?”
“Never been more sure of anything in my life. Listen, it’s my name on the line creatively, and this is a creative judgement call, and I’ve made it. Unless