few.”
“Let’s start with the ones you have access to, then once I have the passcode, we’ll look at the others.”
Jason stopped moving the mouse and looked at Deacon. “So you’re on Olivia’s team?”
Deacon took his time answering. “It would seem that way. At least until I sign the contract.”
C HAPTER NINE
E -e-ek! Are you trying to kill me?” Babette barely made it on board before the trolley started moving. Olivia easily fit between two men in business suits, while Babette had a harder time squeezing in. Once she was situated between a plump woman and the railing, she continued her dramatics.
“I do not understand why zee people in ziss country don’t walk to work. In Paris I walked to work every day.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Ohh, how I miss my precious Par-ree. If not for you, I would be enjoying an espresso and cream puff at Popelini right now. Instead of being here in this”—she waved a hand at the traffic that whizzed past—“madness you call home.”
“You were the one who applied to French Kiss,” Olivia said.
“Because I thought I would get good money. But so far I’ve been paid less than a street cleaner.”
Olivia wanted to point out that she would get her money when Olivia got her designs. And she wasn’t talking about a bunch of flamboyant burlesque costumes. But she didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s dramatics. After the thong hanging, it had taken the rest of the day to calm Babette down.
Not that Olivia had been involved in the calming process. It had been Deacon who carried a sobbing Babette to the guest room. Deacon who placed her on the bed and spoke to her in soft French. Deacon who ordered Olivia to bring Babette some wine to soothe her nerves. Olivia had opened a bottle of her best merlot and taken it and a glass to the guest room. Instead of thanking her, Babette had sobbed even louder.
“You seem to agitate her,” Deacon said as he ushered Olivia out of the bedroom and closed the door. Talk about agitated. Olivia had been so agitated she wanted to kick in the door and order him out of her house. The only thing that kept her from it was the unsigned contract and the thought of having to deal with Babette by herself. So instead she had gone upstairs and waited. And waited. And waited. When Babette’s loud moans drifted up the stairs, Olivia couldn’t believe her ears. It took a good five minutes of moans before her naïve brain could accept the truth that Deacon was having sex with a woman right under her nose. Furious, she marched down the stairs with the intent of kicking them both out of her house. But when she arrived in the guest room, she found the bottle of wine empty, Babette sleeping like a contented baby, and Deacon gone.
“So will Deacon be at your office?” Babette’s question pulled her out of her daydream.
Kelly had called to inform her that Deacon had stopped by the office and was waiting to see her. Olivia had little doubt that he had signed the contract. He’d made no bones about how ridiculous he thought her idea for a men’s lingerie line was. Olivia was relieved. And also terrified. Deacon had some valid points that had her second-guessing the idea. But there was no going back now. Especially when she didn’t have another plan.
She glanced over at Babette and tried to give her the brightest smile she could. “I know we’ve had a little communication problem, Babette. But starting today that’s all going to change. I’m going to listen to you, and you’re going to listen to me. And together we’re going to produce a great line.” She pumped her fist in the air. “Viva la Girl Power!”
Babette stared at Olivia as if she were a pair of granny panties. “ Sacrebleu. ”
* * *
By the time they reached the office, Olivia had a plan. Or something of a plan.
“What time is the board meeting tomorrow, Kelly?” she asked as she strode past Kelly’s desk with Babette in tow. She wanted to reschedule the
“Let’s start with the ones you have access to, then once I have the passcode, we’ll look at the others.”
Jason stopped moving the mouse and looked at Deacon. “So you’re on Olivia’s team?”
Deacon took his time answering. “It would seem that way. At least until I sign the contract.”
C HAPTER NINE
E -e-ek! Are you trying to kill me?” Babette barely made it on board before the trolley started moving. Olivia easily fit between two men in business suits, while Babette had a harder time squeezing in. Once she was situated between a plump woman and the railing, she continued her dramatics.
“I do not understand why zee people in ziss country don’t walk to work. In Paris I walked to work every day.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Ohh, how I miss my precious Par-ree. If not for you, I would be enjoying an espresso and cream puff at Popelini right now. Instead of being here in this”—she waved a hand at the traffic that whizzed past—“madness you call home.”
“You were the one who applied to French Kiss,” Olivia said.
“Because I thought I would get good money. But so far I’ve been paid less than a street cleaner.”
Olivia wanted to point out that she would get her money when Olivia got her designs. And she wasn’t talking about a bunch of flamboyant burlesque costumes. But she didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s dramatics. After the thong hanging, it had taken the rest of the day to calm Babette down.
Not that Olivia had been involved in the calming process. It had been Deacon who carried a sobbing Babette to the guest room. Deacon who placed her on the bed and spoke to her in soft French. Deacon who ordered Olivia to bring Babette some wine to soothe her nerves. Olivia had opened a bottle of her best merlot and taken it and a glass to the guest room. Instead of thanking her, Babette had sobbed even louder.
“You seem to agitate her,” Deacon said as he ushered Olivia out of the bedroom and closed the door. Talk about agitated. Olivia had been so agitated she wanted to kick in the door and order him out of her house. The only thing that kept her from it was the unsigned contract and the thought of having to deal with Babette by herself. So instead she had gone upstairs and waited. And waited. And waited. When Babette’s loud moans drifted up the stairs, Olivia couldn’t believe her ears. It took a good five minutes of moans before her naïve brain could accept the truth that Deacon was having sex with a woman right under her nose. Furious, she marched down the stairs with the intent of kicking them both out of her house. But when she arrived in the guest room, she found the bottle of wine empty, Babette sleeping like a contented baby, and Deacon gone.
“So will Deacon be at your office?” Babette’s question pulled her out of her daydream.
Kelly had called to inform her that Deacon had stopped by the office and was waiting to see her. Olivia had little doubt that he had signed the contract. He’d made no bones about how ridiculous he thought her idea for a men’s lingerie line was. Olivia was relieved. And also terrified. Deacon had some valid points that had her second-guessing the idea. But there was no going back now. Especially when she didn’t have another plan.
She glanced over at Babette and tried to give her the brightest smile she could. “I know we’ve had a little communication problem, Babette. But starting today that’s all going to change. I’m going to listen to you, and you’re going to listen to me. And together we’re going to produce a great line.” She pumped her fist in the air. “Viva la Girl Power!”
Babette stared at Olivia as if she were a pair of granny panties. “ Sacrebleu. ”
* * *
By the time they reached the office, Olivia had a plan. Or something of a plan.
“What time is the board meeting tomorrow, Kelly?” she asked as she strode past Kelly’s desk with Babette in tow. She wanted to reschedule the
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