Think Outside the Boss - Olivia Hayle Page 0,56

really, but his studies as a technician and a few English phrases. Learned to speak the language within months.”

“That’s impressive,” I say, and I mean it.

Her voice warms. “He started working in a small clothing store, and within a few years, he became the manager. Opened his own store a few years later.”

I curve my hand over her hip. “And his granddaughter got an MBA?”

“Yes. He passed a few years ago, but we used to talk a lot about business. He liked to give me the name of a company, and a week later, he’d ask me why I thought they were successful. I’d have to give him my analysis. He’d listen, nodding every now and then, eyes thoughtful behind his glasses. And then he’d tell me what I’d missed and correct any Italian grammar I’d messed up.”

The warmth in the picture she paints is enough to make me smile. “He sounds brilliant,” I say. “You speak Italian?”

“Yes, but anyone can tell I’m American from my accent.”

“That’s still more Italian than I speak.” My fingers trail across her bare ribs, her skin like silk. “How do you become more interesting every time I talk to you?”

She raises an eyebrow, the smile on her face glorious. “I’m multi-faceted like that.”

“You most definitely are, Strait-laced. So, tell me. What’s your own great business idea?”

“I’m not telling you, you venture capitalist. You’ll just steal it.”

I press a hand to my chest. “You wound me.”

Laughing, Freddie turns over on her stomach and rests her chin in her hand. Dark, silken hair slips over her shoulder and tickles my bare chest.

“That was my snarky way of saying I don’t have one, at least not yet. Perhaps my thing is helping already existing companies rather than starting my own.”

“Now that sounds like a venture capitalist in the making,” I point out.

She grins. “I want to work at a Fortune 500 company someday. I’d love to live in Italy for a few years and work at a company there. Perhaps somewhere in Asia, too. Singapore?”

“It’s lovely there,” I comment.

“Of course you’ve been.”

I make my voice lofty. “Many, many times.”

Her grin widens. I reach up and trace the smattering of faint freckles across her nose. Long, bare eyelashes flutter over her cheeks. “I won’t be able to stay away,” I tell her. “Not when I know you want me too.”

Freddie’s eyes soften. “I don’t want you to stay away.”

My thumb slides down to her lips, tracing the outline. “Outside the office, then.”

“Yes.”

“When it’s just you and me,” I murmur.

“Just us,” she agrees, her lips brushing mine with promise.

19

Tristan

My cards are terrible. Two sevens and a five, not to mention a two, and there’s not a unified suit amongst them. The only possible strategy is to bluff, but looking around the table, I doubt any of my business partners at Acture Capital will buy it. We’ve played too many times.

Carter reaches for his glass of whiskey, smiling a bit too widely to himself.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re the worst at bluffing.”

“Or the best,” he counters.

“He’s certainly the least consistent,” Victor says dryly. “You change your tactics every few months.”

“I have to keep you sharp,” Carter says, raising his glass to us. “You’re welcome.”

Anthony says nothing, just shakes his head at our youngest partner. Carter burns with the same kind of energy I had at twenty-eight.

Victor looks at me over his cards. “How are things in the consulting world? Tired of being for sale?”

“Not yet. The beast is just starting to turn around.”

“Just? Exciteur has been profitable for months.”

“It was profitable when we bought it,” I point out. “The aim is to make it more so.”

The decision to acquire the majority share in Exciteur had been joint, but Acture always offers human capital as well as financial. I’d insisted on being the one to take on the CEO position.

Carter tosses his cards onto the table. “I fold.”

I grin. “So you were bluffing after all?”

“I’ll never tell.”

Victor looks down at his cards and there’s not a smile in sight. The bastard might be ice cold, but he knows his business. “Have you found a media company you think is right for us yet?”

Carter leans back in one of my leather chairs. “No, but I’m monitoring a few. I’ll email the short list to all of you when I have it.”

“Good,” I say. “Because you know that if you’re not running point on something, we’re going to foist a company on you.”

“Like that matchmaking business,” Anthony says, the threat hanging