Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

Page 8



About the work, I mean.

But I refuse to give her any satisfaction.

“Do I strike you as the jealous type? If after all this time, you think so, maybe you should focus on getting to know me better before worrying about clients like Vincent.”

I hold her gaze, but she starts to giggle, pulling back and taking that enticing scent with her.

“You’re definitely the jealous type, Charles. But just so you know, I’ve got my hands full with you. I don’t have time to learn about our clients, French or otherwise. Your sister texted me this morning that if the meeting goes sideways, I can always compliment Vincent’s accent, as it seems to uplift his mood.” With a playful grin, she snatches the pages from my desk and plops down in a nearby chair.

Irritable relief hits me at her comment, but I ignore it and arch an eyebrow at her instead. This time when she leans forward with elbows on the table, her expression is all curiosity.

“I have a question,” she begins, confirming my suspicion. “Feel free to skip it if you’d rather not answer. No pressure.”

“Spit it out. I have a lot of work, and so do you,” I reply, my interest piqued.

She straightens up, a spark in her eyes. “Do you think there’s something going on between Chloe and Vincent? I mean, Vincent brings up her name in every meeting.”

“What?” I blink. That was a total curveball. “Are you serious? There’s nothing going on between him and my sister. Vincent’s just a flirt, in case you haven’t noticed, ma belle. And Chloe? She cannot fall for someone like him.”

“Oh, so is it some kind of rule that Hawthorne girls can’t date European men?”

A mix of emotions akin to surprise and humor locks inside me.

“What soap opera are you watching now, Daisy? Please stop because it’s killing your brain cells. And if you’ve gossiped over my sister’s love life enough, we both can go back to work.”

“I’m not gossiping. I just think they’d make a cute couple,” she mumbles, backing away from my desk.

“For your own safety, please don’t share that opinion with Chloe,” I warn, and a beat later, I hear her heels clicking away. But before she can leave, I remember something. “How are we coming on with the gifts for the hospital?”

Her pout melts into a broad smile, and she hurries back to my desk, flipping open her iPad and placing it before me.

“Look, this is my plan.”

There are beautiful gift baskets wrapped in pink and blue cellophane.

Damn, she’s good.

“What do you think?” Daisy asks carefully. She knows how much these gifts mean to me, and every year, she surprises me by doing a better job than the previous year.

“Looks great. You made sure everything is of the best quality?” I ask, even when I know she sure has.

“Absolutely. All baked goods are from Cherrywood’s finest bakeries. I’ve personally verified them for taste, quality, and hygiene. The same goes for other gifts.” Daisy nods, moving her stylus from one item on the screen to another.

“Sounds right.”

“Can I say something, Charles?” Her words are slow.

“Can I stop you?”

She grins before the mood in the room turns too serious, and I know where this is going.

“What you do for the hospitals during the holiday season is amazing. I just wish you could someday see the smiles you bring to the faces of the people.”

The pang of inadequacy returns, but I quell it. “It’s for them, not for me to feel good. That’s why it’s anonymous.”

A sad smile touches her lips before she straightens. “I understand.”

3


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