He nods at Asher as if sizing him up before the showdown in the ring. It’s ridiculous.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Cavendish. Raven has told me so much about you.”
I kick Asher under the table, and he grunts.
Charles looks my way with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“I’ve told him about the company and how much I enjoy my job.”
Please go away. Please go away.
Things couldn’t get any more awkward if I stood on the table and stripped down to my panties. The tension is high, and I’m not even sure why.
Because of what we did? Or is it about the woman he’s with, or maybe Asher?
Either way, I want this unease to end.
“Glad to hear you’re enjoying thecompany,” Charles practically purrs, and my face heats at his hidden innuendo. “This is Angela,” Charles says, as if he suddenly remembers the woman next to him. “She’s an advisor to my father in London. She came to see the New York office.”
Interesting. His father’s attorney and now an advisor is here, too? What is going on?
“Hi, Angela, lovely to meet you. This is Asher,” I say and smile affectionately at Asher as I do.
Something that sounds almost like a growl escapes Charles’s throat, and all eyes turn to him. He coughs, and Angela claps a hand on his back.
“Are you okay, Charles?”
I hate that she calls him by his first name. So familiar.
“Fine,” he chokes out. “We better leave you to it. Have a great day,” he says and walks off, never officially acknowledging Ash.
I watch as he finds a table not too far from us. Not close enough to hear us talk, but definitely close enough to watch us.
“That is my boss. The CEO of the company.”
“I gathered as much.” Asher chuckles. “He’s... intense.”
“He’s something all right,” I mutter under my breath.
He shrugs, glancing toward Charles. “He’s known to be rather private.”
“Yeah, you won’t find anything about him on the internet.”
“You stalked him online?” Asher’s mouth forms a straight, thin line.
“No. Well... yes. When I was interviewing for the company. I tried to find out all I could about him.”
He bobs his head. “Makes sense. He’s acting a bit strange,” Asher notes, looking over that way again.
I turn my head slightly and see that Charles is watching us. I turned back to Asher with wide eyes.
“Yeah. He’s weird. So full of himself. Anyway, let’s eat our food.”
“Good idea. I’m running out of time,” Asher says.
We spend the rest of our lunch eating, laughing, and being far too friendly with one another.
At one point, I look up from my food and find Charles standing in the archway leading into the cafeteria, staring daggers at the back of Asher’s head. His pinched features are set in a fierce scowl. The blonde from earlier is gone. My back straightens, and my shoulders roll.