Page 6 of Tool

Page 6

"Well, good Lord," Beau drawls, gesturing with his steak knife still in his hand.   "I guess I've been so wrapped up in the buyout lately that I didn't even think about it. "  My father talks about his acquisition of a small natural energy company like it's some kind of new thing, but it's hardly news.   He has an expansionist mentality and wants Marlowe Oil to be the major player in terms of energy industries world-wide.   "Of course, Delaney only just accepted my offer.   Finally. "

"You taught me to play hard to get," I say, spooning a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth.   I wasn't playing hard to get, not really; this is my first job out of college, and my degree is in Asian studies.   Against my mother's wishes, I followed my heart, and it's certainly not the most practical degree choice in the world.

No one was beating down my door to give me a job; and my mother, who's on her fourth marriage to a wealthy importer who spends most of his time overseas, couldn't even fathom why I would want to work instead of spend my days being a socialite in Manhattan.   My father taught me to believe in working for a living; it helped that he convinced me to at least add another major to the mix and study business as well.

"Oh, really?  Did he teach you that?" Gaige asks.   Then I feel the un-freaking-believable: Gaige's hand on my leg.   He gives my thigh a little squeeze, and I almost jump out of my skin.   And not just because I'm startled, either – but because his touch does what it did before.   It sends warmth running through my body like an electric current.   When I look up at him in shock, he's giving me that cocky grin of his.   Then he fucking winks.   "Playing hard to get is underrated. "

My father doesn't seem to notice what's happening.   He cuts off another piece of steak, but pauses as he brings the fork to his mouth.   "Which brings me to what I wanted to talk about at dinner.   With both of you. "

Gaige squeezes my leg again, and I pick up my steak knife and point it in his direction, shooting him a warning look.   He chuckles, but moves his hand away.   If he thinks I'm still the girl he used to know, that I'm going to get involved in these kinds of juvenile games, he has another thing coming.

"What did you want to talk about, dad?" I ask.

"I'll get to it in a minute," Beau says.   "The photo shoot went well?  They got the product placement in there?"

"Done deal," Gaige says.

My father nods.   "It's a good partnership, Marlow and your team.   You're a hot brand.   Even after that goddamned accident. "

Gaige rolls his eyes.   "Well, it's good to know that at least I haven't ruined the brand," he says, his tone sarcastic.

The tone is lost on my father.   "I've been giving some thought to your work role, Delaney," he says.   "And this affects Gaige. "

I swallow hard.   When my father sold me on coming to work for him, there was no mention of Gaige being involved in any way.   Sure, I'd heard that my father bought Gaige's racing team a year ago, but I didn't think that meant Gaige was living here.   Or that he was actually working with my father.   I mean, what the hell does the CEO of a company do with a racing team, anyway?  I figured it was one of those things my father bought for fun and then handed off to someone else to deal with.

"I'm all ears," Gaige says.   I can feel him looking at me and I pointedly snub him.   After he put his hand on my leg, the only appropriate response is to ignore his antics, possibly forever.   I reach for my water glass to distract myself from Gaige's gaze.

"I want you on Gaige," Beau says.

I choke on my sip of water, coughing loudly.   Beside me, I think I hear Gaige chuckle.   Screw him if he thinks this is funny.

"Are you okay?" Beau asks.

"Water…wrong…pipe," I gasp.

"I'm sure it's not that she doesn't want to work with me," Gaige says.

"Don't be ridiculous," Beau says.   "Why wouldn't she want to work with you?  You're family.   She hasn't even heard what I need her for yet. "

Family.   I cough a few more times before I speak, hoping my tone conveys the level of irritation that I feel.   "Why are you both talking about me like I'm not even here?"

Gaige leans toward my father.   "Well, she seems rather sensitive this evening. "

Beau chortles.   "Don't wind her up," he says.   "You know, I remember she used to get like this when she was younger, too.   Mood swings, hormones, you know. "