Page 9 of My Office Rival (Keep Your Enemy Closer #2)

JASON

A car door slammed, and I started. There were no neighbors on this road.

It’s nothing. Relax. Damn, I hate the country.

The memories bit at me here. Of dusty roads, too small clothing, hunger, hard eyes hidden by kindly looking exteriors.

My skin prickled, and I ached to get back to the anonymity of the city.

The memories propelled me to the door where I looked out into the pitch-black night. Just a smattering of stars hung in the sky, peeking through the clouds from the earlier storm.

Peaceful, cold, and completely at odds with how I felt. Of course, she was on this deal. Working side-by-side with my one-night stand. I’d woken up with her scent on my sheets and my body sore, but hard for her all over again.

I almost laughed, but it died when Mitchell’s words rang in my head.

I know you wouldn’t do that. I can count on you, Jason.

She was the woman I needed to destroy in order to secure my future, and the very last person I should be alone with.

Especially given how my body had thrummed with want when her hand had landed on me.

Her sharp inhale, the way her palm lingered, a brand on my stomach.

The door slammed again, too close to be a neighbor. I had to investigate. The anxiety would keep me up all night. I pulled my boots and coat on and headed out into the velvet night.

I was just rounding the bend in the dusty road when I saw her car.

The light of her cell phone lit up her face in the otherwise thick darkness.

Shit. She looked so lost, so forlorn. This couldn’t stand.

I might be ruthless, but I wasn’t cruel.

I strode to the vehicle and knocked on the window.

She opened the door, already bundled in her coat and scarf.

I saw she had put the driver’s seat down in preparation to sleep there.

For a brief moment, my chest felt like a weight had been dropped on it.

“What do you want?” She glared at me. “Come to gloat about how I’m sleeping in my car? Congratulations, Jason, you won this round. Now leave me alone.” She turned back to her phone. My frustration rose. Fine. Have it your way. I was about to turn away when I saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

“You can stay with me.” The words were dragged out of me. I didn’t want her in my house, filling up my space with her fresh scent and her lush body, distracting me from the deal I needed to win. But I wasn’t going to let her sleep out here either.

“Are you sure?” She bit her lip. “Don’t mess with me. I can’t handle that right now.”

“I’m sure.” I’m not sure at all. This is a terrible idea. “I’ll grab your bag from the trunk. Is that all you’ve got?” She emerged from the car and looked surprised that I was helping. Suddenly, I felt like an ass. An ass who only cared about winning and forgot about being a person.

We headed side-by-side up the dirt road, her suitcase bumping along and raising clouds of dust that caused her to sneeze.

“I hate the country,” she muttered.

“Me too.”

“All those bugs.” Her tone was offended, and I smothered a grin.

“All that empty space,” I added.

“Hate it.” She grinned at me and I saw the flash of her white teeth in the weak moonlight. My stomach tightened. It had been so long since I had made a woman smile .

“So, roommate, what’s your favorite food? I know nothing about you and we’re about to be real close,” she said.

“Roommate? I don’t think so.” I shook my head. “This is a one-night deal.”

She walked up the porch steps and through the doorway before turning to me. “I’m here and I’m not leaving. I booked the house too and I’m not giving it up. You will have to physically drag me out of it.”

I snorted derisively. “I’d like to see that.”

She crossed her arms. I went toe-to-toe with her and shoved my hands into my pockets, willing myself not to touch her.

She raised an eyebrow. I swept my gaze over her, and she reddened but raised her chin.

Neat, perfect curves, hips I could grab onto, had grabbed onto for leverage when I was fucking her.

I met her eyes. Flashing brown and not amused at my perusal.

“Deal with it, Jason. I make a pretty good roommate.” Her face was set.

Was I really about to do this? There were so many reasons not to let her stay—the complications with our work, the conflicts of interest it posed, the axe looming over my head if my managing partners ever sniffed out even a hint of impropriety.

But worst of all was the prospect that I would very likely be lusting after her every single day.

I sighed. “Fine. Make yourself at home.”

The front room was spacious, with a large, modern kitchen, which flowed into a dining area, and then into the living room. It was open, airy, and comfortable. Well, except for the chicken figurines and pillows and artwork.

Her eyes widened as she took in the space. “This is…unique,” she said.

I had to smile. “Yeah, I was taken aback too. Everything they could make chicken-themed, they did. ”

She glanced around the space again before settling herself at the dining room table.

She set her phone carefully in the middle.

When she looked at me, her eyes were hard and her mouth was set.

It seemed that the pleasant small talk was over.

“Gerald told me your team denied our last request for materials. You’re supposed to be cooperating. ”

“I am cooperating.” I didn’t want to turn those materials over because there was something off in them. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “You’re going to make this more difficult than it needs to be, aren’t you?”

I sat down at the table. Might as well start now. We’d be across from each other every day. In windowless conference rooms, with nothing but time. Fuck . I leaned in and held her gaze. “Just as difficult as it needs to be.”

“Jason. This is a negotiation.” She spoke the words slowly, like I was a small child. “These companies are merging. There are no winners and losers here.”

I barked a laugh. “There are winners and losers in every deal. And when it closes, you know exactly which side you’re on.”

“Your reputation is well-deserved,” she said bitterly.

At her words, my blood ran cold. Reputation ?

I immediately feared the worst. Pretty boy’s gonna get his ass beat.

The shadows of my past reared up, and my heart started to pound.

Someone knew. Someone knew about the drugs and my family and the shame of real, true poverty. I kept my face carefully blank.

“Reputation?” My voice came out rough.

“Forget about it.”

My breath sawed in and out, and I tried to deepen it, to calm my racing heart, tamp down the panic that was rising in me.

Why is it so critical that no one knows about your past ?

I pictured my old therapist asking me. Because this isn’t me.

I wasn’t those people. I had no tie to them and their cruelty and their circumstances.

I wanted nothing to do with that life. I hated them.

We didn’t share holidays, we didn’t call, hell, we didn’t even share a last name.

I’d seen to that on the day I turned eighteen.

Jason Elliott hadn’t existed until that day.

Fuck . Cynthia meant something else. She must. But I needed to keep my guard up.

No sleeping with her. No hint of impropriety.

This job was my ticket to a new life. I wanted to be cleansed in the fires of hard work and money, piles of money.

I wanted to belong to this world where wealth whispered.

I’d made it here, and I was holding on with both hands.

She flicked me a dirty look. “You drive me insane.”

“I know.” I winked, even though I felt like screaming, and watched her jaw tic.

At least I had firmly established this boundary. Despite our night together, Cynthia was getting the work version of me. I played to win. Soft brown eyes and flaming red hair were not going to sway me from that course.

“What happened to the man I met last night? He was reasonable,” she finally said. Her lips were pursed in annoyance.

“Last night was a mistake,” I replied. It was the truth. Because, now, with her in front of me…it all came roaring back. I had a brief flash of her arching up to me, her soft cries of pleasure, the way she’d felt when I pressed into her. “ And if we’re going to room together, we need house rules.”

She leaned back in her chair like she owned the place. “Go ahead, counselor.” Her eyes were hard, challenging. “Hit me with the rules of engagement.”