Mendacious Page 8

  “Good. Yes, I like it.”

  I’m lying. I actually don’t have the foggiest clue what he’s been going on about for the last hour. My mind switched off as soon as the presentation had started, my thoughts occupied by something else, or more precisely, someone else. “E-mail me the slides and I’ll review them in more detail.”

  “No problem. Did you want to go over anything?” Daniel asks, placing the projector clicker on the table.

  “No. I think you’ve covered off all the points. I’ll give my consideration.” Daniel’s face falls at my comments and I find myself trying to sweeten the deal. “I’ve been thinking about having a desk here. What do you think? That way, I can be around for a couple of weeks until we get the expansion off the ground and a team of my guys in place to oversee things.”

  I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I’m pandering to a prick I want to shove off the face of the earth.

  He’s your key to Libby. Treat him well and she’ll follow.

  “That’s a great idea, Alex. I’ll speak to my assistant and get it arranged. You can always share my office—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I reply, nipping that idea in the bud before he finishes suggesting it. “Li—Elizabeth has kindly offered to share her office with me.” I manage to correct myself before the incorrect name tumbles from my lips.

  Daniel’s face crinkles, but softens. “O-Oh? Well, if she has offered then—”

  I sense a draft from the door opening behind me. High heels click across the floor and alert me to her arrival. “What have I supposedly offered?”

  Rather than turn around, I keep my eyes fixed on Daniel’s face, watching the shift in his expression and the way his eyes light up at her arrival.

  I know who you’re looking at. Fucker.

  “Elizabeth,” he beams, fixing her with a wide smile.

  My knuckles curl and I tighten my hands into fists. This bastard is in deep with Libby—too fucking deep. I’m going to shatter his little fairytale at some point, but in the meantime, I’ve got to sit and watch this bullshit. There isn’t anything I can do, yet.

  “Alex was just telling me about his idea to work from the office. I think it’s a great idea,” Daniel says, rubbing his hands together.

  Rising from the chair, I straighten my tie and face her. She’s got her arms folded, her eyes unmoving and her expression serious.

  “I was just telling Daniel how you’ve agreed to share your office. He offered his, but I had to turn him down. I mean, after you offered in the lift this morning, I’d feel kind of bad accepting from somebody else.” With my back to Daniel, I fix her with a cocky grin and flash a warning with my eyes. A silent threat I hope she takes note of.

  “W-What?” Libby stammers.

  Silly girl. If she’s going to be in business again after this hostile takeover, then she needs to learn how to keep her poker face intact. Her emotions are scattered all over her eyes and face. I sense her anger, frustration and sheer fear at my presence, which only boosts my confidence knowing I’ve rattled her.

  “I’ll work it out with my associate, and start from tomorrow. If you can have a desk and network connection for me in your office by the morning, I can get cracking with what I’ve got planned.” I turn to Daniel and nod my head. “Thank you for the information. Please e-mail me the details and I’ll look them over.” Turning back to Libby, I step forward and watch as her body freezes. “Elizabeth.”

  I walk past and head for the lifts. Wangling my way into her office was a stroke of pure genius I hadn’t even thought of. Although, I’m sure Sean and Benedict will have something to say about it.

  “Mr. Lewis.”

  Waiting at the lift, I hear her voice and shoes clattering behind. Her steps appear urgent. Perhaps she’s found her balls and wants it out with me?

  I cast a quick glance at the overhead lift panel and see the car on its way up. “Make this quick,” I mutter, keeping my voice low.

  Libby doesn’t stand beside me. Instead, I’m surprised when she stands directly in front of the lift door, her hands firmly placed on her hips. She’s wearing a scowl. It’s a real awkward one that makes her face look pouty, and my lip flickers as I try and hide my amusement.

  “What the hell was that about?” she demands.

  I stare at her. “What?”

  “Don’t give me that. I’m on about the whole, “Oh, share my office” shit you managed to pull in there.” She steps forward, the width between us shrinking rapidly. “I can see straight through the bullshit you’re trying to pull. Don’t even think it’ll wash with me, Ace.”

  She called it me again.

  I don’t fucking believe she’s used that name twice in the space of a few hours. She knows what happens to me when she calls me that. My eyes blaze hot. Molten even. My earlier smiles and chuckles are gone.

  She senses it.

  Then the lift door pings open behind her.

  I step forward. Libby steps back. I step forward. Libby steps back. Unknowingly, she enters the lift, her eyes too busy focusing on me. I know that mind of hers is working overtime to reinforce the fortress she’s built; it’s the same one I’m trying to tear down brick by brick.

  Her back hits the glass wall with a soft yelp. She stiffens momentarily. Her body language screams hostility, but I don’t retreat. My steely gaze pins her in place until I’m bracing both hands on the glass above her head.

  “Go on,” I growl.

  “What?”

  “Say it again.”

  She visibly trembles beneath my stare, and her voice comes out on a ragged whisper. “W-What?”

  My hands slide down the glass and I recoil away from her. “Fuck.” I curse under my breath and turn to the panel. Hitting the button for the ground floor, I lean against the metal side rail and clench my jaw.

  I’m fucking fuming, but I keep quiet. Silently, I sulk about her blatant teasing, knowing I should have expected her to push back. She was coaxing me, slowly. Trying to get me to open up, and slip back into my old self by muttering my old nickname.

  I could see she was baiting me. She probably wanted to say it as much as I wanted to hear it. Dancing on the tip of her tongue it was, I could tell. But she didn’t have the balls to say it. She knew what I would’ve done, otherwise.

  We remain silent on the ride down to reception. Libby keeps her distance on the far side. Well away from me. But I notice she can’t stop her wandering eyes. She starts chewing on her bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth and releasing it with a loud pop.

  Over and over again I watch. There’s a nervous gleam in those pretty irises; it’s one I’ve seen on countless occasions. Libby knew what she had to say. Just that one word would have blown the fucking game apart in seconds, and I wouldn’t have given a shit about my actions.

  But she’s clever like that.

  Cunning.

  The doors open on the ground floor. I gesture for Libby to go first, but she shakes her head.

  “I’m going back up,” she says, flicking her wrist at me.

  I’ve been effectively dismissed, which doesn’t happen—ever. She knows I’ll always have the last say. So I make it count.

  “Have my desk ready,” I snap, stepping into reception and flicking her one final glance over my shoulder.

  Libby leans across and hits the button for her floor, but not before she whispers, “Whatever, Ace.”

  My reactions aren’t quick enough to stop the lift doors when she bares her teeth and grins cockily.

  “Fuck!” The blood pumping through my body thickens hotly in an instant. My hands begin to tense, and I fight the urge to slam my fist through the glass door.

  She is playing a game with me.

  Libby watches on, amusement filling her face. She’s safe inside the lift and takes the opportunity to give me a cheeky wave as the car ascends.

  Bitch.

  SEVEN

  Despite the hours working through a bunch of e-mails and convincing Sean tha
t working with Libby is a good idea, I’m surprisingly full of life. I’ve got my morning coffee and I’m reclining lazily at my newly fitted desk.

  They’ve sat me opposite Libby, so each time she lifts her head, I’ll be there.

  A constant reminder.

  I’m the bastard ex-husband who wants to see her fail.

  It’s brilliant.

  Tilting the coffee cup to my lips, I can’t shake the grin from my face. Pissing Libby off is only the start of my plan. The more I work on her, the easier it’ll be to reel her in for the long run. So conniving, right? I love it.

  A large metallic clock chimes on the wall behind me and I spin round to see the time.

  Ten.

  She’s running late.

  I was told this morning she’d be in for nine, but it’s been an hour and she’s a no show. It’s not professional. In fact, it’s damn well rude. She’s killing my happy mojo for the day. I was supposed to be taking the opportunity to gloat and make her life a misery, but I can’t, all because she’s nowhere to be seen.

  Putting my cup on the desk, I push back in my chair and get up, heading straight for the frosted glass doors. I’m sure the girl outside said her name was Jamie? Or was it Janice?

  Shit.

  Putting my hand on the door handle, I realise I shouldn’t give a fuck what her name is; she’s here to do a job.

  Yanking the handle with a growl, I send the door flying on its hinges with a loud whoosh.

  And that’s when she stumbles into view, and the scene plays out in slow motion in front of me. I have an instant visual of the catastrophic train wreck I know is about to happen.

  It’s like Final Destination before my eyes.

  Libby lets go of the door, her balance instantly obliterated by the frosted glass that swings from her grasp. She spots me stood in the doorway, her face a picture of panic and confusion as she tumbles straight toward me.

  Today’s impossibly high stilettos aren’t doing her any favours, but I don’t have long with that thought before we collide and her coffee splatters down the front of my charcoal three-piece. The force of her impact catches me off guard and sends us toppling to the ground in a hot, coffee coated heap.

  “Shit!” I mutter under my breath when my back connects with the stone flooring and Libby’s weight presses against me. The scolding coffee seeps through the material of my suit, effectively burning me with slow precision. Yet, oddly enough, I’m more concerned about her, but I know I can’t show it. “Get off me,” I snap, pulling my arms free from between our squished bodies.

  “Why? Why? Why?” she groans. Her hands splay against my chest and she pushes herself up to look at my face.

  I won’t lie, despite the far from pleasant sensation of burning flesh, this moment between us feels good. Familiar.

  “Elizabeth!”

  There isn’t a moment for me to think straight before a group of alarmed employees are surrounding us. They each take Libby by an arm and pull her up. They’re busy fussing over her when two more employees appear and help me.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, shrugging off my suit jacket as soon as I’m standing. My fingers move to the buttons on my waistcoat next. The fucking burning is intense; I bet the hairs on my chest are singed to the bloody root.

  “My dress is ruined,” I hear Libby moaning from within a cocoon of employees. “I have no idea what the hell he was playing at!” She angrily carries on and I huff listening to her little temper tantrum while I remove my waistcoat.

  “Grow-up for God’s sake,” I snap aloud without thinking.

  Silence descends.

  “Excuse me?” The cocoon separates, revealing a saturated and angry looking Libby. Her hair is not so perfect anymore and her beige coloured dress sports a deep brown coffee stain across the chest. “You just ruined a four hundred pound dress,” she hisses with a venom filled glare.

  I can’t help but scoff. “And what about my Armani suit you’ve just wrecked? If you were watching where you were going, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  The employees around us scatter when Libby points to her office. “In there. We need to talk.”

  I shake my head. “Who do you think you’re talking to, sweetheart? I’m not one of your employees.”

  “Alex, get in the bloody office.”

  “Libby,” I warn her.

  She sighs, relaxes her shoulders, and adds, “Please?”

  There’s the politeness I’m after.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  I let her enter first and close the door behind us. My first point of call is my phone rather than letting her talk. I need to get Kelly to bring another suit because my white shirt is practically see-through at this point—not that Libby’s noticed anyway. She’s too busy being pissed over a stupid dress. A dress that’s worth nowhere near the price she paid.

  “Good morning, Alex,” Kelly chirps.

  “Kelly, I need a suit. Can you send one of the girls over? I’ll need a shirt and tie as well.”

  “Of course. I’ll send someone right now,” she replies, without question. It’s exactly the response I was after.

  “Thanks, Kelly.” I end the call and place my phone on the desk. “Right,” I murmur, turning toward Libby.

  “You’re such an arsehole,” she hurls across the room. Her hands have found their way to her hips and she’s sporting the angriest looking glare in my direction.

  “Look, if you’d been here on time, it wouldn’t have happened. I was only coming out to look for you.”

  “I told Jamie I would be in at ten,” she replies. “I didn’t realise I had to check-in with you as well?”

  “A bit of courtesy wouldn’t hurt. It’s not professional being late,” I say, taking a seat on the edge of my new desk and folding my arms across my chest. My wet shirt isn’t capturing her attention like I thought it would. She looks too angry to notice anything.

  “Don’t give me that professional bullshit,” Libby shouts back. “I left all that behind, Alex. Don’t tell me how to run my company.” She drops her hands from her hips and curls them into tiny fists.

  I love it when she gets mad at me. She thinks she is pushing my buttons, but if anything, she’s making me want her more. There was always something about her trying to stand-up to me that turned me on. And we are talking major hard-on over here. It unleashes the egotistical arsehole that is buried inside of me.

  Hearing her rising anger, I push away from the desk and make my way over to her. She visibly stiffens as our proximity shrinks. It doesn’t faze me—at all.

  If she treats me like shit and thinks she can get away with it, then my God, she still has so much to learn.

  “Listen, sweetheart,” I murmur when our bodies are mere inches apart. “The last thing you signed was an agreement for my company to control this expansion project. So whether you like it or not, I’ll tell you exactly how to manage your company, because I can.”

  Her eyelids flicker and she lets out a sharp gasp. She wasn’t expecting that but I’m not playing around anymore. I’ll have to rethink my plan a little; I’ve got a feeling she isn’t going to come easily.

  “That signature was a mistake.”

  “And now it’s too late,” I reply coldly. “I’m not going anywhere, Libby. I’ve got a job to do. Now whether that involves you or not is a choice I’ll leave in your hands.”

  And that’s the seed planted.

  What she does from here on out is her decision. But no matter what, I’ll own this company at the end.

  “Y-You bastard,” Libby hisses.

  She recoils back with her hand as if she’s about to slap me. It wouldn’t surprise me if she did. I mean, let’s face it, I definitely deserve it.

  “Elizabeth?” Daniel’s voice echoes from just outside the door. “Have you got a moment?”

  Immediately, she drops her hand and I take a couple of steps back. “Come on in,” she calls, plastering a bright smile to her face.

  Daniel seems surprised when
he spots me. “Oh. I didn’t realise you were in here too, Alex.” I watch him look us up and down, his eyes taking in my clear shirt and Libby’s stained dress. “I heard about the accident, so I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

  She’s fine, Prick.

  Libby shakes her head. “Thank you. I’m alright, Daniel. Can you ask Jamie to run out and get me a new dress?”

  He flicks a cautious glance at me. “I’ll send Jamie now. Do you want to freshen up and meet me for a quick coffee?”

  I smirk. This bastard feels completely threatened by me right now. His attempt at marking his territory is ridiculous.

  Pathetic.

  “I can’t right now,” Libby replies coolly. “I’ve got plenty of things to be getting on with. I’ll meet you later?”

  “For lunch?” Daniel sounds almost desperate.

  “Well—”

  “She can’t,” I murmur, interrupting whatever answer she was about to give.

  “I can’t?” Libby wrinkles her brow.

  “We have a lunch meeting.” This lying business is getting easier and easier by the second. Every last word out of my mouth seems to be nothing but shit lately. But who cares if I’m getting what I want?

  Daniel doesn’t hide his disappointment well. “Okay,” he replies with a sad smile. “I’ll see you later.” He turns and heads back out the office without closing the door.

  “Born in a barn?” I mutter, closing the door behind him and heading back to my desk. Sitting down, I wiggle my fingers on the touchpad of my laptop, blissfully trying to ignore the eyes I can feel burning into my head.

  “What the hell was that about?” Libby eventually asks.

  Leaning back in my chair, I drum my fingers on the desk and nod for her to sit, which she does. “A pissing contest,” I state simply, unashamed of calling it anything other than what it was.

  “But, why?”

  “Habit.” I shrug. “And because I can.”

  Libby scoffs. “Maybe seven or eight years ago, but I’m afraid times have changed. And if you remember right, I’m not yours anymore.” She looks hastily around the room before lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. “We’re divorced, Alex.”