Free Billionaire With a Twist 3 by Lila Monroe Page A

we were trying to put on for our guest.
    Assuming he ever showed and didn’t
just stand us up in a bit of final humiliation.
    This was the plan: Once Chuck arrived,
Hunter would offer to sell his shares, pretending to be desperate for
cash and to have no knowledge of the impending buyout. He’d
demand a big price, and hopefully Chuck would be so greedy for the
takeover and the buyout payoff that he’d give Hunter the
money—which we would then turn around and use to help Hunter
start up his own company and hire at least some, and hopefully most
or all, of his old employees.
    The plan hinged on two things. One,
Chuck being a greedy grasping pig who wouldn’t think too far
into the future, which was a fairly safe bet. Two, that Hunter could
swallow his pride long enough to eat crow pie for Chuck, which was
somewhat more tenuous of a proposition.
    “You have to let him feel like
he’s won,” I reminded him, my fingers beating a staccato
rhythm against the edge of my chair. “He has to feel like he’s
on top of the world looking down on you, like there’s no
possible way you could be considered a threat. You have to seem pathetic .”
    “A tall order,” Hunter said
with a smile. “But I think I can do it. All those drama
classes, remember? I didn’t hang out just for the favorable gal
to guy ratio. Well, I mostly did, but I still picked up a thing or
two.”
    “I know you did,” I said.
“I’m probably just being overly anxious, but—but
Chuck’s a little more obnoxious than your average drama major.
He’s going to push all the buttons of yours he can find. Can
you let him lord it over you and bite your tongue?”
    “I think I can,” Hunter
said with a reassuring smile. He squeezed my knee under the table
again. “And I know I’ll do my very best.”
    He leaned in towards me, and for a
second I thought we were going to kiss, my lips tingling already as
they parted—
    “Well, well, isn’t this
cozy. You didn’t have to put yourself out of pocket, though,
Hunter, I could easily have taken this to a McDonalds to help you
save money.”
    Chuck had arrived. Hunter and I jerked
apart. Hunter stood, offered him a perfunctory handshake. “Chuck.”
    “Hunter,” Chuck said with a
grin that oozed malice.
    Power didn’t suit Chuck. It made
him simultaneously sloppy and over-the-top; his hundred-dollar
haircut was fighting a losing battle to hold what wisps of hair he
had together over his bald spot, his Italian silk suit was buttoned
up the wrong way and happened to be entirely the wrong shade of
maroon for his complexion, and while his cologne was undeniably top
shelf, he’d doused himself in enough to kill anyone with even a
hint of asthma.
    “And Miss Bartlett,” he
said with a slimy grin. “I’m so glad to see that you and
Hunter have patched things up. It’s so important to keep our
meal tickets satisfied, isn’t it?”
    “I wouldn’t know,” I
said frostily.
    Chuck raised an eyebrow at my
impertinence, and I backtracked hastily, the very image of someone
afraid of his money-fueled wrath. “I mean, of course. Yes.
You’re right.”
    He gave a satisfied grin and fell into
his seat, propping his feet up on the table.
    It had already been quiet in Persona,
but at this, the volume somehow dropped another level in disbelief.
    It was so quiet you could hear a pin
drop, and also the sound of the maitre’d having a heart attack.
    Chuck was oblivious, though. “Shall
I foot the bill? I’ve got an excellent new credit rating now
that I’m essentially in charge of Knox Liquors.” He
leered at me. “I wouldn’t want to take the clothes off
your back, after all. Well, not figuratively, anyway. Ha!”
    I could practically hear Hunter’s
teeth grinding, but he just smiled—and I think the
teeth-grinding added some verisimilitude, because Chuck grinned at
him before looking back over to me and letting his gaze drop low
enough and long enough to make it absolutely clear that he was
checking out my