Wife Wanted (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)(25)

 

No one else knew of his predicament, and he wanted to keep it that way. Last thing he needed was an in-house uproar over the situation. He knew, if he asked, most of his people would follow him to a new business, help him start his own. But he couldn’t do that to them. This business was successful. They needed to keep their jobs for their families. Riley had no family. He’d be fine if the worst happened.

 

“Gentlemen,” he said as he entered the conference room. Every seat was taken. In the early years, he’d been nervous at times like this, but now it was the easiest part of his day. “I have very good news to discuss with you all.”

 

Ben got up and closed the door, then dimmed the lights so they could do the presentation.

 

“We hope so,” the bald man in front said. “We have had an offer since last we spoke, Mr. Marston.”

 

“An offer? May I ask who from?”

 

“Yancey. He’s saying he has the exact same program, but it's about ten thousand cheaper than you are. We thought you said this technology was new? Never used before you created it for us.”

 

Riley’s hands clenched the edge of the table as he glanced at Ben. “Where did Yancey say this program came from, exactly?”

 

“He didn’t, but I must say, Mr. Marston, if the death of your grandfather is going to affect you too much to keep up with your competition, we will take our business to them. Now then, are you certain your product is worth the ten thousand more?”

 

Forcing himself to take a deep breath and not tug at his earring, Riley straightened and smiled. “Of course. Let me show you what we have done…”

 

***

 

“How the hell did Yancey get a hold of my programming?” Riley yelled in his office. The door was closed, but he saw Linda peek out from behind her desk, a worried frown on her face. He waved her away after mouthing an apology and went back to pacing. He wanted to throw something…no, he wanted to throw Yancey out a window!

 

“I don’t know, and I doubt we have a mole…wait, you don’t think Chandler did this?”

 

“How could she have gotten into the system?”

 

“I don’t know, but I’ll start digging around some.”

 

“Fine, and set up a meeting with Yancey. I want to have a little chat with our dear friend across the way,” Riley snapped. “I’ll even be so kind as to meet him at his office.”

 

Ben glanced up from his tablet. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

 

“Yes, anything to throw him off balance is good. He’ll be suspicious.”

 

“You could put it that way. Fine, I’ll set it up,” Ben said as he got to his feet. “Oh, how were your latest dates…? Never mind,” he muttered when Riley glared at him. “I’ll…uh, go set up that appointment.”

 

He left Riley still fuming. When did everything decide to go wonky again? He thought life had kicked him enough times when he was down, but now this? His company was being sabotaged by someone, and he was no closer to finding a damn wife. He glanced at his grandfather’s picture hanging on the far wall.

 

“You’re getting a real kick out of this, aren’t you?”

 

But the picture didn’t answer him back. The old man would give him no more advice. Riley was on his own. He sat down at his computer and forced himself to start looking through some more profiles of women. But none of them were the one he wanted to see. The girl from Friday night…he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. The date on Saturday had been a bust. The woman didn’t even show. And last night…last night had not been as bad as Trisha, but the girl was too nice for his world, too shy. He’d kissed her hand in a gentle goodbye and walked her to her door, but that was the end of it.

 

“Why can’t I find you, Anna?” he whispered, scrolling through the profiles, not even reading them. “You have to be around somewhere, so where are you?”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

 

On Wednesday morning, Phoebe was shaking like a damned leaf as she tried to finish up her archiving from the day before. But it was too hard to focus. Last night, she’d received a package from Mitch with a note that said it was for the function tonight. A very classy, black-tie, expensive, champagne-drinking function where Phoebe knew she would not fit in. Ever. They’d spot it in a second, and she’d become the laughing stock of the rich and beautiful.

 

Especially in that dress. The gorgeous, black, lace and silk dress, floor length, flowing out from her waist, off the shoulder sleeves and plunging neckline…she found herself staring off into nothing, remembering what she’d looked like last night.