Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,28
Had she known they’d be four-wheeling it to the airport at eight in the morning, she would’ve worn something warmer and put her long hair in a braid. “Achew!” Dammit, I am getting a cold.
“Bless you,” Bennett said without looking at her.
“Thank—blah-pft!” She spit a wad of her long hair from her mouth. “Thanks.”
She remembered she had a few extra rubber bands and clips in her purse so she plucked it off the floor and began digging. That’s when she noticed the news alerts on her cellphone. She’d set them up to tell her when anything about Bennett or his company came up. Yes, I’m a stalker. But now I know we have that in common.
She nonchalantly scrolled through them, reading quickly. Bar Brawl at the Wade Ball? What? She read on and the article said that Bennett had gotten into a fistfight with a Mr. Charles Thorup. Both men had been arrested for assault and public drunkenness.
Arrested? Taylor covered her mouth and bit down on her lips, stifling a laugh. Ohmygod. I wish I’d been there to see that. Karma, you’re my hero.
She slid the phone into her purse. “So, what was the fight about?” Taylor asked with a smirk.
Bennett kept his gaze fixed to the road. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” he snarled. He accelerated into the fast lane.
You think I’m not going to rub this one in? He’d gotten into a drunken fistfight at his own charity event. Public humiliation kind of sucks, doesn’t it Bennett?
“I’m sure you don’t,” she replied, speaking loudly over the engine, wind, and traffic, “but I’m spending the next two weeks with you. And frankly, I don’t know you. I’m also a woman, and you’re a big guy.”
He glanced at her quickly with a sneer. “What are you implying, Ms. Reed?”
She shrugged knowing what she said next would piss the bejeebers out of the man. Oh the joy. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable traveling the world with a man who’s prone to violence.”
With utterly sadistic delight, she watched his jaw muscles pump away and the veins and ropes of hard muscles in his arms bulge out as his grip tightened around the steering wheel.
“Watch yourself, Ms. Reed. I’m not appreciating the tone.”
“And I’m not appreciating yours,” she replied. “You sound angry, and angry men do crazy things like fight—”
“Enough, Taylor. I had my reasons. That’s all you need to know.”
Taylor. He’d called her Taylor. Why did that make the old knees start doing their own thing again?
“Perhaps,” he continued, “your time might be put to better use going over the training program with me.”
Oh. With pleasure. First, I plan to take my awesome training program, pump it up full of some rather odiferous, fly-infested bull crap, and then cover it with rose petals and serve it to you with a big fat smile. How’s that sound to ya, Bennett?
“That’s an excellent idea, Mr. Wade. I have the program broken into four steps, starting with the client evaluation—we should be able to knock that out today. From there, we’ll work with ten different modules, tailored,” harhar, “to your needs, that focus on modifying your leadership style.”
“And the other two steps?” he asked.
Oh, we won’t ever get to those. You’ll be too busy losing your mind, wondering where it all went wrong, because your deal fell through.
“Those will be practical application and then the final follow-up, which is really just a postmortem to see how the techniques are functioning,” she replied happily.
“That sounds excel—” His phone buzzed in the cup holder. “Can you check that? I’m expecting a message from Robin.”
“Uh, sure.” Taylor grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. “It says, ‘No phone number but I got an address.’ ”
“Dammit. Fine. Tell her to have a car ready at the Napa airport.”
“Napa?”
“We’re taking a quick detour before heading off to Tokyo. It should only take a few hours.”
Taylor punched in the reply without indicating she wasn’t Bennett. Robin quickly responded:
Will do, Mr. Wade. And thank you for last night. (Winky face.) Bonnie and I had great time.
Thank you for last night? Taylor repeated the words in her head. So he was sleeping with his secretary. And some woman named Bonnie. What other reason would there be for winky faces? A man like Bennett wasn’t the type to chum around and trade emojis with his staff unless they had a very personal relationship. What a predictable slime bag. And he didn’t even let Robin call him Bennett.