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Reid (Vested Interest #4)
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You’ve met the men of BAM. Now get to know the rebel.
Who is Reid Matthews?
A child, abandoned and unloved.
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I LIKED LISTS. I always had, even as a kid. They helped me focus. Even in the worst of places I lived, I could find a few scraps of paper and a pencil.
I would write out a list, then number what to do in priority. It gave me a sense of accomplishment when I could run a thick line through an item when it was completed. If I was lucky enough to have more paper, I could rewrite the list—smaller and more organized until I’d finished it.
Now, as an adult, I still liked lists. But with today’s technology, I used my computer instead of paper, my keyboard instead of the stub of a pencil. With the click of my mouse, I could sort, organize, remove, and reprioritize my items.
I stared at my computer, looking over my latest list. I called it Project B.
Learn to talk to Becca like a man instead of a stuttering idiot
Get Becca to notice me as a man—not as the company IT boy
Finish the new program I developed for Becca so she falls in love with me
Ask Becca out on a date
Send Becca flowers
Buy Becca coffee
Lose my virginity to Becca
I pursed my lips and moved buying Becca coffee into second place. I wondered if I should send her flowers before or after the program installation. Once she saw what it could do for her, she might be the one sending me flowers. Perhaps she’d throw in a kiss or two. I was certain she’d say yes to a date.
I wasn’t sure she’d go for the helping me lose my virginity thing. I probably had to work up to that idea.
I saved the file to my private drive, knowing I needed to concentrate on Bentley’s latest request. I would return to my list once I had his requests done.
I tugged off my glasses and rubbed my tired eyes. I had pulled another all-nighter. Between all the ideas for Ridge Towers, the new programs I was working on for control freak Maddox, ensuring the security protocols were current for big-ass Aiden, and our systems were safe and impenetrable for overanxious Bentley, my days were full.
On top of that, I had to add in Becca detail. She sat less than twenty feet away from me, separated solely by a wall, yet it might as well have been twenty miles.
From the moment I had rushed into the boardroom, late and disheveled, planning simply to give my excuses and leave, I was entranced.
She sat in my usual spot at the boardroom table, a small intruder in my space. She gazed at me, her eyes wide with surprise. I knew I looked worse than usual and I should leave, but my feet carried me forward, and I sat across from her.
She was the prettiest woman I had ever seen—rich, dark brown hair, creamy skin, and brilliant blue eyes that captured my attention. She was dressed in a business suit, her hair perfect, understated makeup, and her small laptop open, a notebook and pen at the ready, a professional woman prepared to do business. Yet, there was a softness to her gaze, and her smile was warm, even a touch shy.
She was incredibly sexy.
So sexy, I almost missed my chair when I sat down. I was lucky Aiden saved me from that embarrassment. I was doing well enough on my own in that department. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. More than once, I had to adjust myself discreetly under the table, grateful Bentley preferred wood to glass. My dick liked what he saw—more than liked.
That day, he decided she was what we had been waiting for all my life.
As I discovered, talking business with her was easy. She was intelligent, understood computers and the lingo. She asked smart questions, made notes she often referred to, listened carefully to my replies. But it was when business was done and she became Becca, the girl, I became Reid, the loser.
I had so much I wanted to say to her, but I found I couldn’t say anything. There was this disconnect between my brain and my mouth. I could barely form a sentence in her presence.
I ran a hand over my face. My behavior hadn’t changed much since she arrived. The only smooth interactions we had together were business-related. In meetings, we were on the same page. When she came to my office to ask a question, I could answer her without hesitation. Yesterday, she had told me about her dream report.
“One where I could have all the information about a campaign in the same place,” she mused. “It would make my life so much easier.”
My ears perked up. Anything to make her life easier was something I was interested in. I grabbed a piece of paper. “Tell me.”
“I have to go to every site, and collect the click rates, follow-throughs, page views, etc. For print, I have to wait for the numbers to be sent and then download them. I would love something that took all that information and put it in one place. Then I could compare and analyze things so much faster.”