Let's Play A Dirty Ass Game, Mr. CEO

Chapter 70: YOU SHINE

LAURA

I didn’t believe I’d ever say a thing as corny as that, especially when it had to do with Tristan.

But it is what it is. We’re partners now, and there was no changing that fact unless the contract was officially terminated—I would have to make sure that happens on my own terms as well.

So...his win is really mine.

Tristan had a dumfounded look on his face for a few good minutes before he recovered.

Or maybe it was just the woman with the squeaky voice who snapped him from his daze.

"Mr. Pierce, welcome," the tall, willowy blonde hurried forward. She looked stressed and agitated, but she was doing a good job of plastering on a smile, as well.

Tristan finally snatched his gaze from mine and cleared his throat. "Ms. Stevenson," he started, turning towards her. "Care to explain the mess that is going on in my fashion brand?"

Ms. Stevenson swallowed a lump down and clasped her hands in front of her. I could understand the helplessness in her face because right now, Tristan came across as terrifying and unforgiving. That quick switch on moods could do something to one’s insides.

"I’m really sorry about this, Mr. Pierce," Ms. Stevenson apologized in a meek voice. "If you don’t mind, I can explain further in my office."

"Well lead the way, then," Tristan snapped. "We don’t have all day."

The woman led the way up a sprawl of winding stairs, and we soon arrived at a set of huge oak doors and as soon as she walked through them, Tristan turned to me with a smirk. "After you."

I eyed him warily. I did not trust that darn smirk. "Is it really just an office behind the door?"

How could I trust him? What if this was an arrangement to lure me further into his lair of seduction? I mean...I would just collapse with the tiniest shove of the tiniest finger.

He rolled his eyes a little, keeping the smirk. "Relax, this is not the red room."

My cheeks bloomed hot and I pinched my brows together in a frown. "What?" ...the fuck is a red room?

"Like you heard earlier, it’s really just the office of the executive head of the department store. Nothing more. We’re here to be fully briefed on the influencer/counterfeit saga. Satisfied?"

I heaved an exasperated sigh and pushed into the office, not bothering to give him a response. I was afraid of what might just pop out from the mire of dirty thoughts running through my mind.

"Please, have a seat." Ms. Stevenson ran around in a futile effort to not appear nervous. "Here, I’ll wipe it down for—"

"Just leave and get to the point, please." Tristan’s voice was cold and punishing, and Ms. Stevenson shrunk back from it like it stung.

I cleared my throat and tried a softer approach. "Please tell us what happened, Ms. Stevenson. Did the influencer Cara Montero really come here to purchase the latest Pierce Jean collection?"

"Yes, Ms. Hayes. Just a few days ago, she was here, fussing all over the place, you know how these influencers are."

"We need the facts, Ms. Stevenson," I said in a firmer tone this time, making sure to keep the fire in my eyes. "If you want to wash your hands clean off the case, then you must provide us with the necessary details of what happened that day."

A look of deep resolve crossed the older woman’s face and she began narrating how the influencer tried on almost all the jeans and got them on her videos and cameras, even though the store’s policies warned against that.

But it turned out that taking pictures and making videos was not the worst thing that happened that day. The influencer also happened to create a scene at the cashier stand while paying with her credit card.

Then, the worst thing happened. In less than two hours after she left the department store with bags full and happy smile, a video from her livestream began making the rounds on all social media platforms, condemning the latest trending jean collection from Pierce, calling it ’fake trash’ and ’cheap, lazy work’.

At the end of the narration, Tristan was literally seething at the edge of his desk. "Do we sell fakes here, Ms. Stevenson?" His voice was icy and sharp, lacking emotion.

Ms. Stevenson winced from the bite. "N-no, sire."

"So how the fuck did she get her hands on a fake in our store?!"

"Calm down, Tristan," I reprimanded quietly. "This is the time to reason critically."

He shot me a glare that said he was very far from capable of reasoning critically...or logically at the moment.

"This reads like a calculated stunt." I pushed off my seat and paced the length and breadth of the office for a while, doing the thinking for Tristan since he would not do it before losing his mind.

Then I snapped my fingers. "Right. Have they run the serial digits yet?"

"Hold on." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. As he dialed a number, I laid out the plan that had quickly come together in my head.

"You said you’ve been slammed with a lawsuit, right?"

Tristan nodded, a scowl marring the handsome planes of his face.

"Reach out to her lawyer. Ask him to a meeting where you discuss the terms of a settlement."

"I told you," he gritted through clenched teeth, "I’m not settling."

"Well think for a moment, Tristan," I snapped. "No one’s settling. This is just to lure them out. Ask her lawyer to meet, but make sure he brings her along. We must meet with her face-to-face to truly determine if this is a scam or not."

Tristan was silent for a long moment as he watched me, stroking his jaw.

It became uncomfortable and hot after a few moments, especially knowing that Ms. Stevenson was also in this room and could see him look at me like he wanted to devour me.

I cleared my throat and arched my brows at him. "So?"

"You know," he leaned forward, long limbs stretching against the fabric of his pants, "I’ve never really stopped to think about how bright you shine, especially when you’re being so smart. You just...glow."

There’s a mesmerized look in his eyes that’s lighting every part of my body in fervent heat.

If Ms. Stevenson wasn’t here, I’d probably have jumped him already.

I blinked in shock instead, and whipped my gaze towards Ms. Stevenson, who was undoubtedly just as shocked as I was.

"Uhm," a nervous laugh chortled past my lips, "he’s just talking about my excellence as Phoenix." I turned again to Tristan, beseeching him again to go along with the story.

"Right?"

He stared at me for another beat of ten seconds and my heart almost exploded out of my chest. Then he rose to his freaking 6ft and crossed the room to me.

"Hell yeah." Then he leaned towards me, too close for a professional situation. "Speaking of excellence, why don’t you do your thing with this one?" he asked, pressing his phone into my hand.

I took it, slightly confused. "What’s going on?"

"Talk to the lawyer. He’s on the line now."