Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Austin plopped down into the chair on the other side of me. “What’s your name again?”
My stomach gave a sickening swoop. I didn’t want to give him my name and possibly start something. Would Austin remember the name of the man whose project he’d stolen? Possibly not, but I couldn’t take the chance of tipping off Austin before the board meeting on Monday, when Bash and the others would confront Austin with the legal team present.
My best option was to lie low.
“I’m Bash’s date.” I managed a tight smile. “Nice to meet you.” I turned to Bash. “What were you saying again? Something about polo, I think?”
Under the table, Bash grasped my hand tight enough to cut off my circulation. Thankfully, someone stopped by the table to greet Austin, and he stopped talking to me. But as the uniformed servers began delivering dinner and an older man in a sweet navy tux stood up at the podium to make his opening remarks, I felt Austin’s attention on me again, like he was trying to figure out a way to ask my name without being overtly rude.
I straightened my posture, ignored the keynote speech I couldn’t care less about, and tried to look like I belonged.
“Bash, darling.” Constance Baxter-Hicks appeared next to Bash. “They’ve seated us at the Loringtons’ table, and that just won’t do. I’ve asked them to switch us here. You don’t mind, do you?” Without waiting for Bash’s confirmation, Constance took the seat beside him. Her daughter, Miranda, took the chair next to hers, and a nice-looking guy around my age took the next seat down—after holding out Miranda’s chair for her.
I shot Miranda a covert thumbs-up, gesturing to her elegant, understated green dress, and she blushed and smiled hugely.
“Always happy to have you with us,” Bash said with a genuine smile. “Miranda, Hank. Nice to see you both.”
The man nodded, then leaned toward Miranda like he was continuing a conversation while Miranda cheerfully munched her dinner roll.
Another pair of women arrived and took the remaining seats at the table. They both appeared to be in their forties. One had a pale complexion with a short platinum pixie cut, and the other was dark-skinned with long mahogany hair that tumbled in shiny waves against the red satin tux she wore.
Bash stood and went around the table to help the ladies with their seats, then returned and put a hand on my shoulder. He gestured toward the blonde woman first. “This is our CEO, Clarissa, and her wife, Kamaria. Ladies, I’d love to introduce you to my date. He’s—”
“The Burrito Bandito!” Austin blurted triumphantly, like he’d finally come up with the answer that had been eluding him. “You’re the one who does the dance!”
Bash’s fingers tightened on my shoulder, and I knew my face had to be fire-hot.
What was I supposed to do now? Would it cause more of a scene to confirm or deny?
“See, I know him as the brilliant inventor of—” Bash began in a low growl, but I set my hand on top of his to stop him.
“Don’t,” I said softly. “Don’t.”
“And you are?” Constance leaned forward to look down her nose at Austin like he was a lower life form she’d only just deigned to notice.
But Austin wouldn’t be distracted. I could see the scales falling from his eyes like dominos, plink plink plink.
“Rowe!” he accused, pointing at me. “That was the name on the wall screen. I knew I’d remember it eventually. I told you I never forget a face. Bash investigated you! You’re the funny little man who delivered the food the other day, but you refused to tell me your name then. You’re Rowe Pr—uh.”
Austin hesitated and swallowed hard, like he hadn’t made the connection between the picture he’d seen in Bash’s office and the letters where he’d first seen the name Rowe Prince until the words had been in his mouth. Then he darted a glance at Bash’s hand on my shoulder, recognizing what it might mean that the real inventor of Daisy Chain was attending this function on Bash’s arm.
I saw the moment he decided to go on the offensive in an effort to save himself.
“Bash, your date is a security risk!” Austin flushed as red as my own face had to be. “He was at our office the other day in a disguise, a-a-acting extremely suspicious. He refused to identify himself, then he ran off into the building, and our security team couldn’t find him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he… if he stole intellectual property! We need to have him removed right now and investigated thoroughly. I’ll take on the task myself. This man is a danger. A thief. A liar.” He looked around the dining room frantically. “Somebody find security!”
Bash’s voice was low and full of command, the kind of voice that might have melted the clothes right off me if we hadn’t been surrounded by a couple of hundred businesspeople in formalwear. “Keep your voice down, Austin. I know exactly who this man is. And I’m crystal clear on who at this table is a thief.”