Reading Online Novel

Blackmailing The Billionaire(9)



"How did you manage that?" Trenton finally asked, looking from her to Max and back again.

"Well, first your brother had to slam into me with his car, leaving me  in a coma in the hospital for a week, then have the nerve to throw  papers at me, promising I wouldn't sue the pants off him. I chose an  interview, instead," she said with a huge smile. Trenton stared at her  for a moment, with his mouth open. Then, his eyes lit up and he let out a  loud laugh, causing several heads to turn in their direction.

"That is priceless, seriously. I can't wait to call up Bree and Austin.  They're going to crack up," Trenton said between fits of laughter.

"This is none of any of your business, Trenton," Max said sending a glare toward his brother.

"There is no possible way you're going to keep this away from the  family. You know things like this spread like wildfire around our  family. The unstoppable Max getting blackmailed, and by a tiny woman, to  boot. Thank you so much for making my day, Ms. Cassie McIntyre," he  said as he stood up.

"You're very welcome, Trenton. I look forward to speaking with you  more," she said with a bright smile. Trenton left, his laughter carrying  back to them as he walked from the cafeteria.

"Don't look so smug, Cassie, the day is young," Max threatened. His  words took a little of the joy from her. She knew he wouldn't hurt her,  but the man caused unspeakable things to happen in her body with just a  glance, or a slight breath on her skin. She couldn't imagine what he  could do if he put in a hundred percent effort. She turned away and  looked out the window.

"What's the plan for the rest of the day?" she finally asked, trying to get back on a topic of business.

"Today will be quite boring, I'm afraid. I have a business trip up to  Alaska at the end of this week, and have to catch up on paperwork. You  don't have to stick around if you don't want to," he offered, almost  hopefully.

"I have nowhere else to be," she said, thinking to herself there was no  way he was chasing her off. The second she left, something amazing would  be uncovered, and she wasn't taking a chance on missing it.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug as if it didn't matter to him  either way. He then reached across the table and brushed a piece of her  escaped hair from her face. He slowly tucked the strand behind her ear,  his fingers brushing her cheek as he pulled back. He was the most  touchy-feely person she'd ever been around, and had no thought of a  person's personal bubble.

She firmed her shoulders and pointedly brought her iPad into focus. She  wanted to get back on track with the interview, and let him know she  didn't appreciate being man-handled.

"What kind of people do you like working for you?" she asked, proud of  her professional sounding tone. He looked at her for a moment as if he  were in deep thought.

"They must first and foremost be attractive. I have to deal with suits  all day, so I want some eye candy around the office to lighten things  up," he said in a serious tone. She looked at him, trying to deem  whether he was joking. She couldn't believe he'd possibly mean that. If  he was speaking the truth, he'd have half the country ready to rip out  his throat. Maybe he was that shallow. She decided to go with it and  furiously began typing notes.

"So, in other words you prefer to be surrounded by bimbos?" she questioned.

"Are you saying that attractive people have to be stupid?" he asked  right back. She stopped for a moment, trying to come up with a proper  response. It didn't matter what she said, as she wasn't the one up for  an interview.

"You didn't say anything about intelligence - you simply said they had  to be attractive. Do you have a special dress code for these attractive  people?" she fired right back.

"My philosophy has always been that the human body is beautiful and  therefore there's no shame in highlighting the assets." He then looked  at her own clothing like she was definitely lacking. It took everything  in her not to squirm while he was dissecting her as if she were under a  microscope. Cassie was steaming mad, but hoped it didn't show on her  face.         

     



 

"You realize you sound like an ass, right?" she said in her most professional tone.

"Just because I like pretty things? Now, who's being the prejudiced one,  Cassie? I've found that Bimbos suit me quite well," he added. She was  ready for the interview to be over. She had a feeling that was exactly  what he was shooting for. He stood up, indicating breakfast was over.  She mutely followed him back to the elevators, where she refused to  break her silence.

When the doors opened, there were a few people in the office, but it  certainly wasn't full. She glanced up and saw an older woman sitting  behind the receptionist desk, and knew in that moment everything he'd  said in the cafeteria was a pack of lies. He'd been trying to get under  her skin and it had worked perfectly. She may not make the entire month,  after all.





Chapter Four





"Does anyone around here know how to do their jobs right?" Max thundered  into the silent room. Several faces turned in his direction, well aware  he was in a foul mood, and not willing to poke the bear. Cassie typed  some notes, which had his head whipping around, the full force of his  frustration now focused on her.

Cassie had been at the offices, observing Max for two weeks. She was  getting a general idea about the man, but not really finding the story  she so desperately wanted. She wanted to find a more personal twist,  unlike anything anyone had ever written on one of the Andersons, but he  was incredibly good at blocking her out.

At the moment he was beyond frustrated because his Alaska trip had been  pushed back due to some corporate issue she knew nothing about, and with  the weather getting worse, he was anxious to get there before it was  too late.

She'd been back in her apartment for a week and after being at Joseph  luxurious guest house, it didn't hold the same appeal. She was somewhat  grateful for the long hours Max put in because by the time she got home  she was ready for a shower and bed. She didn't have to look around much  at the lonely place she'd called home with zero complaints up until  meeting him.

Max stormed over to her desk , circling around her like a shark getting  ready to attack. A lesser person would've shaken in fear with the mood  he was in. She simply held her head high and looked him in the eye. She  was actually exhilarated by his temper. It was much better to see some  real emotion flashing in him, other than the persona he seemed  determined to show her. He wasn't giving an inch for her to have an  interesting article. She was learning she had to drag everything from  him and was considering different torture methods to achieve her goal.

He finally stopped his circling, leaned down and planted his hands on  her desk, pushing his face close to hers. She felt her heart accelerate  and was aware their lips were only inches apart. He hadn't attempted to  touch her again since their steamy kiss on the couch, and much to her  frustration she wished he would. She didn't even recognize herself,  anymore.

As she sat through boring meetings and business lunches she found  herself focusing more and more on the actual man. He wasn't the person  she'd originally thought he was. He liked to portray himself as a  playboy corporate shark but he was an amazing employer, who loved the  people he worked with and gave his time and money away without a second  thought. She was afraid she had a bit of a crush on him. She wouldn't  admit it, not even to herself and banished the thought as soon as it  popped into her head.

He'd forget she was around at times and act like she assumed he normally  did around the offices, joking with the staff, and full of good humor.  He had a great relationship with his secretary, Cynthia, who wasn't  afraid to scold him when he got too riled up. Unfortunately, she was out  to lunch at the moment.

"What the hell are you writing, now?" he finally snapped. She flushed, glad he couldn't read minds.

"I'm right here, you know. There's absolutely no need to yell in my  face. Besides, I don't like the shower you're providing me," she said in  a calm tone, lifting her hand to wipe her brow. He hadn't actually spit  on her but she was trying to get him to back up so she could breathe  again.

"Number one, I don't shout, I speak to be heard. Number two, I don't  spit," he snapped, though the corner of his mouth came up a fraction of  an inch. He seemed to enjoy their banter as much as she did. The amount  of passion he exhibited in his everyday life had to make him a fantastic  lover. She couldn't imagine he did anything in half measures. Her mind  drifted again as she imagined him stripping off her clothes and taking  her right there against the solid desk. She could feel the heat building  inside of her. She shook her head, warmth flooding her cheeks even  more. His own eyes darkened at her reaction.