Big Shot(2)
Wes exhaled a harsh breath and rerouted his thoughts back to his conversation with Connor. “Every partner in this company knows the reasons I said no to your sister, and you all agreed to them.” Okay, so he’d coerced and pressured the guys a bit to save his own sanity, but in the end, they had agreed. “I didn’t realize it would cause a f*cking vendetta between Natalie and me.” Because that’s exactly what it felt like.
Connor rubbed his hands down his jean-clad thighs, that small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth again. “It’s not about a vendetta or revenge. You know that Natalie just likes a little competition, and she’s damn good at selling real estate.”
“I’m better,” Wes replied, and immediately realized just how juvenile the words sounded after they’d left his mouth. What was he, in high school?
“Not lately you aren’t,” Connor said meaningfully, the smartass tone of his voice indicating he was thoroughly enjoying the fact that his sister was giving Wes a run for the money in the real estate market. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that if you aren’t careful, Natalie is going to surpass your 132 million in sales last year and knock you off your prestigious pedestal for one of Chicago’s best of the best brokers.”
And she’d no doubt take great f*cking delight in taking him down. Being Connor’s best friend and growing up around little Natalie Prescott, he’d witnessed just how competitive she could be and how much she liked to win. Especially when it came to him. Whether it had been a game of cards or Monopoly with Wes and Connor or racing on their bikes to see who got to the Circle K down the street first, she’d always strived to beat the boys. And when she did, she always made sure to rub Wes’s nose in the fact that she’d trumped him.
Now, as adults, the business friction between them was like a tangible thing—oh, and did he forget to mention the sexual tension they’d both been deliberately skirting for the past few years only added fuel to their rivalry?—and he needed to figure out a way to diffuse the situation before his stress levels shot through the roof.
“Natalie knocking me off any pedestal isn’t going to happen,” he said confidently.
“Then you’d better step up your game,” Connor said, humor lacing his voice. “It would be kind of embarrassing if my sister, who you refused to let work here, kicked your ass and surpassed your sales record.”
Wes rolled his shoulders, trying to replace his frustration with a semblance of calm. He glanced at the clock on the wall, relieved to see it was nearly five. God, he needed a drink. A strong one to wash away the sting of defeat of losing his big deal today to Natalie Prescott.
“Want to head out to the Popped Cherry with me and Max for a drink?” Wes asked, inviting Connor to the trendy bar in downtown Chicago that they all liked to frequent.
“Not tonight,” he replied with a shake of his head as he stood up. “I’ve got a dinner meeting at six thirty with the city inspector who’s been assigned to the Amber Glen project, and I need to head home to shower and change before I go.”
“Better you than me,” Wes teased, knowing how boring those kind of dinner engagements could be. “I’ll be sure to have a drink for you.”
Connor chuckled. “Yeah, you do that.”
A few relaxing drinks, and maybe if Wes was lucky, he’d run into one of his occasional hook-ups and forget all about Natalie Prescott.
At least for a few hours, anyway.
Chapter Two
It was difficult for Wes to forget about his nemesis for an evening when she was at the same bar, celebrating her impressive sale today—the one she’d essentially stolen from him. She was with two of her good friends, Heather and Chloe, and the three of them were sitting at a table in a corner, laughing and enjoying a few rounds of drinks. Natalie’s back was to him, and while Wes had caught Heather and Chloe casting furtive glances his way, the sexy thief had yet to acknowledge him since he’d arrived with Max almost an hour ago.
Then again, to be fair, he’d deliberately avoided her as well, spending his time mingling with his own friends and chatting with Logan and Tate, the owners of the bar. He’d already caught the eye of a curvy redhead across the way, and he was certain if he approached the woman, the flirtatious invitation he’d seen in her gaze could easily become a sure thing.
Shockingly, his dick wasn’t interested in what the redhead was offering, despite his earlier reasons for being here. The problem was, he couldn’t stop thinking about, and looking at, Natalie—from the corner of his eye, of course. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see what he already knew was a beautiful face, because her backside provided an equally stunning and arousing view. Her long, thick, dark brown hair fell halfway down her back in soft waves, and his gaze traveled all the way south to the heart-shaped ass that sat perched on the barstool. Thanks to the formfitting dark gray skirt she wore, he was able to admire the slight flare to her hips and the rounded curve of her distracting bottom. Her long, slender legs were crossed beneath the table, and despite Natalie’s known competitive streak, in business she’d always presented herself as a prim and proper good girl.
And he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he’d always found the intriguing mix of her tenacity and softness a huge f*cking turn-on. Aggressive and ambitious in business and sweet and amenable to his dirty demands in the bedroom. Yeah, he liked the way that sounded. The thought of her dropping to her knees in front of him on command made his cock twitch with way too much enthusiasm and interest. Far more than the redhead, or any other woman in the place, had generated tonight.