Pregnant by the Rival CEO(2)
Anna
She added her cell phone number and signaled to the bartender. She leaned forward, hoping the men sitting on either side of her wouldn’t hear. “I need you to give this to the gentleman seated in the corner. The tall one in the gray suit. Black hair.” She skipped the part about his ridiculously square jaw and sublime five o’clock shadow. She also left out his superhuman sexiness and his perfect, tawny complexion, the product of his Taiwanese and American background.
The bartender raised an eyebrow, looking down at the note.
Give me a break. Anna slid a ten-dollar bill across the bar.
The bartender swiped the money away. “Sure thing.”
“And a dirty martini when you get a chance. Three olives.” Liquid courage would be right on time. She scratched her head, striving to remain inconspicuous while studying Jacob. He ran his hand through his hair when he took the note from the bartender. She caught a glimpse of his deep brown eyes. It wasn’t hard to remember the way they lit up when he smiled, but she doubted her message would prompt such a response.
His forehead crinkled as he read. What was he thinking? That she was crazy? Now that he had personal wealth north of one billion, was incredibly accomplished in the field of venture capitalism, and at the top of his game, it seemed a little childish to have sent a note. And to think she’d once hoped it would end well when she kissed him.
Jacob shook his head and folded the paper. He tapped away at his phone. How had she forgotten how bewitching his hands were? Like the rest of him, they were big and manly. They seemed so...capable. Sadly, her bodily familiarity with his hands didn’t go beyond one of them on the small of her back and the other on her shoulder when he’d delivered the stinger that had stuck with her for years. I can’t, Anna. My friendship with Adam means too much.
It had taken buckets of self-analysis to get over him, and just being in the same room was bringing it all back—in a deluge, where there was no dodging a drop of water. With all of the serious business-related thoughts rolling in her head, her mind kept drifting to their past—every smile, laugh, and flirtatious look they’d ever shared still haunted her. Dammit. She’d been so sure she was beyond this.
Jacob tucked his phone inside his suit coat pocket and finished his drink.
The screen on Anna’s phone lit up. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. What would he say? That he wanted nothing to do with her or her family? That she was lucky he didn’t call her out in the crowded bar?
She swallowed hard and read the text.
Penthouse suite. 15 minutes.
Anna forgot how to breathe. The message was so like Jacob. Direct. To the point. Just intimidating enough to make her doubt herself even more. She wasn’t put off by powerful men. She worked alongside them every day, could hold her own in any tense business situation. But those men didn’t have the pull on her that Jacob had once had. Those men hadn’t once held her heart in their hands, and she sure hadn’t spent years pining for any of them, writing dozens of heartfelt letters that she would ultimately never send.
Jacob stood and bid a farewell to a man he’d been talking to. With the grace of a cat, he wound his way through the jam-packed bar, towering above nearly everyone at six-foot and several more inches, acknowledging the few who had the guts to greet the most formidable and successful technology venture capitalist quite possibly ever.
A shiver crawled along Anna’s spine as he came closer. He brushed past her, not saying a word, leaving behind his heady scent—sandalwood and citrus. Fifteen minutes. She had to pull herself together and prepare to be alone with the one man she would’ve once done anything for.
Anna Langford. I’ll be damned. Jacob pressed the button for the private elevator to his suite. He’d spent the last six years convinced that the entire Langford family despised him, a feeling he’d had no choice but to return. After the note from Anna, he didn’t know what to think, which was unsettling. He always knew what to think.
Did he want to meet with gorgeous Anna Langford, youngest of the three Langford siblings, the woman stuck with an untrustworthy jerk for an older brother? The prospect, although ill-advised, was intriguing. He and Anna had once been friends. On one memorable night they’d been a little more. But did he want to speak to Anna Langford, a member of the LangTel executive board? On that count, it depended on what she wanted to discuss.
His plan to engineer a takeover of LangTel wouldn’t simply backfire if Anna discovered it—he’d be sunk. The War Chest, a secret high-roller investment group led by Jacob, had watched the decline of LangTel stock after the death of Anna and Adam’s father, Roger. The company was vulnerable with Adam in charge—he didn’t have the confidence of the board of directors the way his dad had. LangTel was ripe for the picking.