Tempted Heir (The Heirs #7) - Michelle Heard Page 0,10

about what he said on Saturday. We’ve agreed to both take some time to consider our options before making the decision.

Kids. Marriage. Us.

I think back to whenever Christopher dated in the past. If you can call what he did dating. While studying, he was the king of one-night stands.

I’ve never seen him in a committed relationship. The longest he dated the same girl was… what?... three weeks?

Shit, I can’t remember.

The door suddenly opens, and I quickly look back to the contract in front of me.

Christopher places a folder containing the latest deal on my desk. “This one is good to go.”

“Okay.” I pick it up, and pushing my chair back, I rise to my feet.

When I start to walk away from the desk, Christopher asks, “Will you arrange lunch for us?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I say, “Sure. Anything specific?”

His eyes are locked on me, a different expression in them than what I’m used to seeing.

Is that interest?

The corner of his mouth curves up. “Whatever you feel like.”

“At one?” I ask, smiling back at him.

“Please.”

Reaching the elevator, I press the button. I glance down the hallway, and seeing Christopher is still looking at me, I ask, “Something wrong?”

Slowly he shakes his head as the doors open in front of me. “I like the dress.”

“Thanks.” I chuckle as I step into the elevator and press the button for Ryker’s floor.

I smile at Ryker’s assistant. “Hey, Dorris. How are you?”

She eyes me up and down before raising an eyebrow at me. “Well, don’t you look gorgeous today? I love that dress, honey.”

“Thank you.” Handing her the folder, I say, “Can you make sure Ryker gets this?”

“Of course.”

“How are the kids?” I ask.

Dorris rolls her eyes. “They’re going to send me to an early grave. Yesterday, James was doing math homework. The next minute all I hear is two times two, the son of a bitch is four. Three times two, the son of a bitch is six. Let me tell you, my soul up and left my body.”

I begin to laugh, “And then?”

“I called his teacher, and then she explained he probably means to say the sum of which is, instead of the son of a bitch is.”

My laughter echoes around the office, and I have to wrap an arm around my waist to try and keep it together.

“Needless to say, I won’t ever live that one down,” Dorris says, only adding fuel to my laughter.

“Priceless,” I gasp. God, I love Dorris. I’d never get any work done if she were my assistant. “You just made my day.”

“Anything to see that pretty smile of yours,” she flatters me.

“If you ever get tired of Ryker, just move upstairs,” I tease her.

She lets out a huff. “Ryker will fall apart without me.”

“That’s the truth,” I chuckle as I begin to walk away. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You as well, honey,” she calls after me.

When I get back to my desk, I order sushi for lunch and then focus on reading through the contract, so I’m prepared for the meeting at two when the client comes to sign.

I finally get through it and prepare everything in the boardroom, so it’s ready for the meeting.

Just as I get back to my desk, Cody sets the two containers of sushi down on my desk. “Thanks.” I dig some cash from my wallet and hand it to Cody, then say, “Hold all calls for thirty minutes, please.”

“Sure.”

Picking up our lunch, I walk into Christopher’s office. His head snaps up, and when his eyes focus on me, he gets up. We meet at the round table, and each grab a chair. Opening a container, I set it down before Christopher. “Hope you’re okay with sushi.”

“Always,” he murmurs.

While we eat, I tell him about Dorris, and it makes our short lunch pleasant.

Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I say, “I want to check everything before Mr. Sullivan arrives.”

“Are you okay handling him alone?” Christopher asks as I gather the containers.

“Sure.”

Walking out of his office, I discard the trash then head to the restroom to wash my hands and freshen up.

I’ve just checked everything again when my phone rings. “Dash West.”

“Miss West, there’s a Mr. Sullivan to see you,” Peter, one of our security officers on the first floor, notifies me.

“You can send him up,” I instruct him.

“Will do, Miss West.”

“Thank you, Peter.” Ending the call, I walk to the elevator, and a couple of minutes later, it opens. “Mr. Sullivan. Thank you for coming.”

We shake hands as he says,