Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brothers: The Complete Series by Sylvia Banks Page A

Paul, I’ll have a
single malt.” Warren turned to me.
    “House red wine,” I said. What
the hell—I wasn’t driving.
    Paul left and Warren stiffened
in his seat. “Do you plan on seeing my brother again?”
    “Do you want me to see him
again?”
    His jaw clenched and he
uttered, “Do as you like. You’re free time is yours.”
    I snorted. “Like now?”
    With my words, the speaks-his-mind boss I’d managed to pull
out instantly clammed up. His manner snapped behind a cool shield. Damn. Me and my big mouth. Just when I was
getting somewhere.
    “If you don’t wish to be here,
we can leave.” He started sliding out of the booth.
    I grabbed him. “No.” I’d earned
this dinner and I was going to have it.
    He pinned me with his eyes and
his anger scorched my heart. Behind the fiery glance was a spark of pain. More specifically, rejection. “Make up your damn mind,” He
growled.
    What was with the hot and cold?
“I didn’t say I wanted to leave.”
    Warren let out a sigh of
frustration and scooted back towards me.
    Our waiter returned with a
scotch and red wine. “I’ll be back in a moment to take your order,” Paul said.
    My boss gave Paul a warm smile.
“Thank you.”
    And just as fast as he set the
drinks down Paul was gone.
    “You know what your problem
is?” I said.
    He tsked .
“What?”
    “You try to please people too
much.”
    He laughed but he didn’t sound
amused. “How’s that?”
    I smiled. “You’re trying to do
what it is you think others want you to do.” Did that make sense? Not by much.
He might not understand what he was doing.
    He lifted a wry eyebrow. “You
think I’m trying to please people by reading their minds, is that it?”
    “Yes.” I said in total
seriousness.
    Warren unrolled his napkin and
set it in his lap. “Where do you get that from?”
    “Just now, you were going to
leave because you thought I wanted to
leave.” I let that sink in and said, “You were trying to read my mind. Do me a
favor. Listen to what I say.”
    “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
He took a swallow of scotch and continued, “You say you want me to listen, but
what you really want is for me to read between the lines.”
    Damaged goods. Definitely. My
heart ached for him.
    “Which is why I don’t accept
your reasons for staying away from accounting,” he said.
    “Fine,” I narrowed my eyes at
him. “You want to know why?”
    He scowled back at me.
    The waiter slipped in at the
ready. “Are you and your guest ready to order?”
    We snapped to attention.
Warren’s features softened and he nodded to our attendant. “Yes,” he said.
    It was the opposite reaction I
thought a high powered CEO would give to a waiter. The
dichotomy between the two was vast and yet my boss treated him as well as a
good acquaintance. Not only that, but Warren was expecting an important answer
from me. It was reason enough for him to bark at any interruptions, yet I
watched Warren attentively give the waiter our order and say “thank you” before
Paul left.
    “Do you know him?” I asked.
    Warren shrugged. “Not really,
why?”
    “Because you were really nice
to him.” I said. “Were you ever a waiter?” I couldn’t imagine it, but perhaps
he knew how hard it was to wait on people.
    He shook his head. “No.”
    Huh. I’d had some experience
working my cousin’s bakery for a summer when I was young, so I understood how
some people treated those they thought were below them. Those that treated you
with respect when you were waiting on them was rare.
    He turned to me with an
expectant stare. I felt like a sitting duck. He remained intense and focused
solely on me. My mind went blank and he waited in silence. He cleared his
throat. “So Ms. Renzi , why don’t you want to be in
accounting?”
    Damn. He’d taken control of the
conversation again. He wasn’t going to let it go. Might as well start from the
beginning. “My family is big on education so at my mother’s request I went