The Bishop Affair (Dominated by the Billionaire Brothers - Part Four) (7 page)

“Thank you,” I said, my
chest dragging against the smooth finished surface as I slid back into my seat.
The tightness of my nipples made me all too aware of my arousal. My heart beat
erratically as I hastily balled the panties and wedged them between the pages
of my notebook before standing to go, eager to return to transcription duties.

At least that’s one loose
end tied up. Phew.

“Wait, I’m not done with you
yet.”

I turned my head back to
meet his amused eyes, only to be stabbed by icy daggers. A deep line marred the
space between his arrogantly slashed brows.

He laced his fingers
together. “What’s your relationship with my brother?”

I swallowed hard as I took
my seat, preparing myself for his inquisition. Where was he going with this?
How blunt should I be?
Well, Trev, as of Friday we were having explosive
sex, but I think that ship has sailed.

He continued, “I need him at
a hundred percent. As you probably know, there is a lot at stake with the
future of the company right now. We all need to be on top of it.”

“I didn’t know we were that
close to a deal,” I said, a little startled. Would that fact be revealed to me
as I continued to type the notes that Jordan gave me?

He raised his brows, seeming
curious about my interest. “We just need a few key things to fall into place,”
he said evenly, studying his fingernails for a moment.

“That’s why I went to a
meeting in Vegas on Friday.”

“How did that go, if you
don’t mind me asking?” I’d heard Susan’s side of the story, but I was genuinely
interested in hearing what Trevor had to say.

His jaw tightened and his
eyes narrowed. I was almost afraid I’d asked. Susan had said he was in a bad
mood.

“Let’s just say Hyperion and
Bishop Corp. don’t see eye to eye yet.” His speech was clipped. “I’m certain
they’ll come around soon.”

“I hope so,” I said
sincerely.

He eyed me suspiciously.
“You haven’t answered my question. What is your relationship with Jordan? If I
didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to distract me.”

Distract Trevor Bishop? That
would be like trying to distract a king cobra from striking. Knowing that if he
saw me as a distraction for Jordan I’d probably be canned, I decided to dance
around the subject.

“Doesn’t the non-disclosure
agreement I signed keep me from talking about Bishop affairs even if it’s to
the other brother?” I joked, but immediately regretted doing so.

“Don’t get smart with me,”
he snapped, his voice a chilly bite. I shrank in my chair. “You’re not in an
elevated position in this company despite your proximity to its CEOs. Your
continued employment here depends on your performance—and your ability to
follow directions, like answering my question.”

I realized I had been
getting too comfortable with Jordan. I had to remember the Bishops were my
stern bosses, especially Trevor.

I chose my words carefully
as if my life depended on it. “Jordan and I have a good professional
relationship. He trusts me.”

“He looked tired today. Tell
me why.”

It was apparent I wasn’t the
only one who noticed. How was I supposed to know? He could’ve been up doing any
number of things. Doing work...watching television...talking to Vanessa... My
mind raced for an answer. “I did go with him to the Children’s Hope Ball this
weekend,” I said weakly. “Maybe he’s a little jetlagged. We flew in yesterday.”

Surely, he didn’t lose sleep
over me, did he?

Those arctic blue eyes that
managed to be hot and cold at the same time searched my face. I squirmed in my
seat; it felt as if his gaze was penetrating my soul for secrets. I silently
prayed he wouldn’t see the one where I banged the hell out of his brother. An eternity
passed. His expression relaxed. “Maybe that’s it,” he mused, leaning back in
his chair. “Though you look as radiant as ever.”

“Thank you,” I sputtered at
the unexpected kind words. A tiny thrill made the hair on the back of my neck
rise. Was that the first compliment he ever gave me? Sensing an opening, I
decided to take a chance. “I think it’s really great that you founded that
charity. It seems like a good cause.”

Trevor blinked rapidly,
looking a bit taken aback. He quickly recovered and smiled smoothly. “It is a
good cause.” He paused. “I can see that Jordan does trust you. You have yet to
win my trust, however.”

This was incredibly
frustrating. I wanted Trevor to trust me—wanted to prove that I could be
valuable on a professional level to both him and Jordan. If I didn’t, it’s back
home for Lori. Sam’s words echoed in my brain:
Get your boss to like you.
This
would be how I could advance myself—winning Trevor’s trust.

“That’s all I wanted to
know. You’re dismissed.”

“Wait, Mr. Bishop,” I said,
mustering my courage. “I’m interested in finding out how we could remedy this
situation. I want you to trust me. I’m a hard worker. I know you’re very busy.
If there’s anything I can do to lighten your load, please give it to me.”

To my surprise, Trevor
contemplated my offer. He smiled in a strange way and appeared to come to some
sort of decision. “I have a little errand for you to run. Think of it as a
test.”

“Anything,” I said eagerly,
but stopped when he held up a finger.

“It’s important, something I
would usually do myself but I have to handle other things at the moment,” he
said. “Considering the sensitive nature of the task, I’d expect complete
discretion.”

“Of course,” I said, leaning
forward, thinking this might be my big break.

“There will be no records of
this,” he emphasized. “Go to this address.” He held out a plainly printed
business card but snatched it back when I reached for it.

“Memorize it. Don’t write it
down.” He held it out slowly where I could see but just out of reach. It didn’t
have a name on it, just an address.

I repeated the cross streets
over and over again in my head until I was sure I wouldn’t forget them.

He reached into his back
pocket to pull out a dark leather wallet. He handed me several bills, peeling
them from a thick stack inside. “The exchange will be cash only. Is that
clear?”

“Crystal.” I nodded
emphatically. I felt a small niggle of worry. Was I about to do something
illegal? Pick up some cocaine for an unstable CEO with drug problems? I didn’t
want to ask. I figured I was already on thin ice.

“Once you get to this
address, ask to speak to the owner. He’ll be expecting you. Tell him that
you’re there to pick up the package for Trevor. Don’t use my last name.”

“Got it,” I said, standing.
“I’ll do it on my lunch break.” Hopefully, that would show him that I was
dedicated to the company—willing to give up my free time to complete his tasks.

“You’ll do it now and be
back in thirty minutes,” he responded.

“Thirty minutes?” I was
dumbfounded and was sure I looked the part, too. That address—if I had my map
of Manhattan straight in my mind—was clear across town. I’d be lucky to make it
there in half an hour, let alone come back.

“I need it later today. You
want to prove yourself. Here’s your opportunity.” We both looked at the clock
on the wall, which showed 11:30 a.m.

“But with the traffic—”

“Tick tock, Lori.” His lips
curled into a smile. “You want to earn my trust, don’t you?”

Biting back a panicked
curse, I ran across the carpet, grabbing my shoes instead of putting them on.

“One more thing. Don’t look
inside the package.”

My brain fired off alarms.
This
is SO sketchy.
But I didn’t have time to argue. I darted out of Trevor’s
office, making sure to close the door behind me for fear that he count that as a
mistake. Could I actually make it across town and back in thirty minutes? I
wanted to succeed—needed to. I had to impress Trevor with how capable I was.
But he wasn’t joking when he said I’d be tested. It would be a downright
miracle pulling this off.

I blew past Susan’s desk,
still shoeless, not stopping to answer her question about my hurry. She knew
how Trevor was. She’d piece it together.

I didn’t even care about the
stares I garnered sprinting barefoot to the elevators, sliding in just as the
doors were closing. Once inside, I tried to catch my breath while slipping on
the shoes, repeating the address over and over again.
I have to get this
right.

At the lobby level, I darted
from the elevator again, my high heels drumming a frantic beat across the
marble floor. I hailed the first taxi I saw and breathlessly gave him the
address.

“And step on it, please,” I
added. “There’s a big tip for you if we make it back here in thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes?” the driver
asked dubiously. “I don’t know if that’s going to be possible, young lady.”

He swerved out into traffic,
earning us a lot of angry honks and curses. “I do like a challenge, though.” He
cackled.

I grinned at my luck in
choosing a driver and replayed the instructions in my mind, eager not to mess
anything up.

“Now, are you sure that’s
where you want to go?” the driver said. “I don’t know if that’s the right place
for a nice young lady like yourself.”

“I’m running an errand for
someone. That’s the address he gave me.”

“If that’s where you want to
go, that’s where I’ll take you.” He floored the gas pedal to propel us through
a yellow light.

I watched the city zoom by
on the other side of the windows. I silently urged every light to stay green,
every car to get out of our way, and for the driver to break a few laws to help
me impress Trevor.

We were already fifteen
minutes into the commute when we were caught by yet another red light. The
driver and I groaned at the same time.

“We’re so close.” He pointed
his finger. “Look, it’s just at the next corner.”

“What is it?” I asked,
squinting to see the sign. “Can you see it from here.”

“Sure can. It’s Sexy Sophie,
right there with the pink neon.”

Sexy Sophie? I didn’t have
time to mull that one. “Meet me right out front,” I said, throwing open the
door and bounding onto the sidewalk. “Keep the meter running!”

I sprinted for it, darting
past pedestrians. I arrived at the shop breathless, clutching a sweaty wad of
bills. Bright neon piping outlined the sign, flashing on and off with a buzz.
The window of the store featured lewd posters and a number of mannequins clad
in what could barely be called underwear. A couple of them sported strap-ons.

“A sex shop?” I wondered
aloud before pushing in the door. Instead of a customary ring to notify the workers
I had entered, an electronic sexual moan worthy of a porn award echoed
throughout the shop. I blushed wildly as I looked around for someone to help
me, trying to ignore the shelves of sex toys, costumes, and things I couldn’t
even put a name to if I tried.

What the hell am I doing
here?

“Can I help you?” a portly
gentleman with frizzy hair asked.

“I need to speak to the
owner,” I said quickly. “I’m in a huge rush.”

“I’m the owner, Bob,” he
said. “What can I do for you, honey?”

“I’m picking up a package
for Trevor.” Despite my panic, the right words somehow tumbled out of my mouth.
“Please,
please
hurry.”