Authors: Nicky Penttila

Babysitting the Billionaire (9 page)

“So I hear. But look.” He turned back to the
doorway.

“Five heads, ten? No smiles.”

May bit her lip. “I’m not going to argue this with you.
But don’t judge anyone before you’ve met him.”

“Edmondsson is transparently good?”

“No one is transparently good. Or bad,” she reminded
herself.

Sadie was gesturing frantically from the balcony. They
must be closing in on late.

May spoke louder. “That’s it. Let’s head on up to the
board room, and we can get started.”

“Righty-ho, Miss Reed.”

She let him lead so she could roll her eyes at his back.
Thank the stars she wouldn’t have to be in the meeting with him.

“Mr. Kurck. It’s nice to meet you again.” Sadie’s stoic
friendliness seemed to weather Beau’s freezing glare. “Markus is in his
office.”

“I’m not meeting the board?”

Sadie’s serenity slipped a shade. “We thought you wanted
to keep a low profile.”

“Interesting how you assume how I would best like to do
that.”

“I apologize. That’s completely my fault. But I know
Markus is very excited to meet you.”

May wondered if Sadie had her fingers crossed behind her
back. In May’s experience, The Boss never got excited about anything. She
nodded to Bo, and turned to go back down the stairs.

She heard Sadie’s feet tapping after her. “May! You’re
with us.” Her voice cracked. She stepped closer to her, to whisper, “You have
to keep him in check. I’ll be having a hard enough time with The Boss. He’s a
bear today.”

“So is that one. What’s in the water?”

“I don’t know, but I have the feeling there’s going to
be a lot of translation needed.”

“But I suck at that.” Please don’t make me make a fool
of myself in front of my new lover, May tried to say with her eyes.

Sadie did not appear to be listening. Beau cleared his
throat. “Ladies?”

“This way.” Sadie strode firmly ahead and down the far
side of the balcony, Beau close behind, May nearly skipping to catch up. Two
times in front of The Boss in one week couldn’t be good. Three, if you counted
tomorrow night’s party.

Well, she might just impress him, right? And she was a
consummate professional.
Professional publicity-shy
artist, not professional public-relations maven.

Markus Edmondsson must have heard them coming, for he
was standing at the door to his glass-walled office when they arrived. The
introductions went well, and it looked like Edmondsson won the handshake-grip power
contest, but not by much.
So far, so
good.

Edmondsson waved them over to a pair of comfortable
chairs. Sadie went to the far wall to grab a rolling chair, and signaled May to
do the same. Sadie rolled her seat to Edmondsson’s right, so May rolled hers to
Beau’s right, a neat square.

Beau looked like the chair wasn’t very comfortable. He
won the first-to-speak pissing contest, probably trying to make up for the
handshake.

“So, the expedition. What is the timetable?”

Edmondsson launched into what sounded like a canned
lecture on the history of expeditions to the Antarctic and penguin habitats
there. Beau nodded along, and May’s attention wandered. He must be wearing
underwear now. Would they be boxers or briefs? He seemed the boxer type.

Edmondsson wound down, and Beau nodded. “Yes, I see. So,
what is the timetable of the expedition?”

Edmondsson frowned, as if he’d already answered the
question and was surprised to be asked again. This time, he launched into a
description of how they intended to study the habitat, to ensure preservation
without undue human influence.

Beau interrupted. “Right, but what about video? What
about charts and graphs?”

Edmondsson’s mouth went straight-line. Sadie jumped into
action.

“Of course, Mr. Kurck. We’ll have the complement of
videographers and cartographers. The best in the business.”

“Your employees, of course.”

“No. The best in the business,” Edmondsson said. “As she
said.”

Beau looked at May. He was going to make her say
something. She tried to make all her limbs leaden, so she could sink through
the floor.
No go.

“Miss Reed here had quite a few ideas for short films.”

“Films.” Edmondsson’s voice dripped apathy.

Man up, girl
. May took a breath, and spilled the words out. “Right. For both
fund-raising and for tracking progress on the trip. We could do a series of two-
or three-minute videos, on our own channel, and ask people to video themselves
asking the scientists questions. If we had the satellite we might even have a
live videocast from the site, or inside the shelter, more like.”

No one said anything. Sadie’s face, anxious, watched
Edmondsson. Beau was watching May, that little smile playing along his lower
lip. Edmondsson, who had been looking to the window, turned to look right at
her.

“Coffee, black. You must know Kurck’s by now.”

May blinked, momentarily confused. Then she understood.
She managed to drop her gaze to the carpet before the anger flashed through
them. Then the hot shame followed, and she stood. She had to get out of here.
But then she’d need to come back, with hot fucking coffee, lightly sugared.
He’d only said black to impress the other man in the room.

Who stood. “I’ll help.”

Sadie jumped out of her seat. “No, no, I’ll go.” But Beau
was already at the door, right at May’s heels.

She scurried down the stairs, but as she was about to
turn right, to go to the coffee room, he grabbed her hand and pulled her left.
They rushed to her cubicle, where he picked up her purse.

“You leave this out here, for thieves?” he had time to
say even as they were force-marching to the door. Were they leaving?

They were going to leave. “No. What are you doing?”

He didn’t appear to hear, and he didn’t stop. He didn’t
even wait for the elevator, but ran them down the three floors of stairs and
out the building. Back on

K Street

,
he kept moving. Now she was tugging on his arm for him to stop.

“What are you doing? I need you there. They’re going to
fire me.”

“Good.” He stopped so fast she barreled into him. They
were at the fountain near the White House already. They’d gone a full two
blocks?

“You’re never going back there. May, they treat you like
a slave.”

“I work for them.”

“That doesn’t mean they own you.”

It sort of did. “They own my time.”

“No one should treat you like that.” He crossed his arms
and glowered at her.

She crossed her own arms. “You did, when you first got
here.”

“I did not.”

“Selective memory much? You even made me go get coffee.”

“No, we went to get coffee together.” But he was cooling
down. May shook her head.

“Edmondsson’s a sucky boss, yeah. But he’s not meant to
be a boss. He’s meant to do those adventures. Or whatever.” Now it was her turn
to frown. Wasn’t leading an expedition a lot like being a boss?

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering who is going to be the Sadie on the
expedition.”

“You mean the real boss.” He shook his head, too.
“That’s who should get my money.”

May’s insides went cold. “You’re not going back on the
agreement, are you? It’s a contract. Right?”

“It’s an agreement, not a contract. And it’s not
finalized, as you Americans put it. Because he’s such a prima donna about the
schedule.”

“There must be a reason.” Her words sounded prim to
May’s ears.

Beau laughed. “Excusing the abuser. The reason is he
hasn’t hired the expedition manager, so he doesn’t know. Or worse, he’s pissed
off his manager. There are only two men in the world who could pull this off,
and neither seems to me the sort who could work with your Edmondsson.”

May almost shouted out he wasn’t her Edmondsson, but as
she’d just argued he was she kept her mouth shut.

She racked her mind for reasons this should not happen.
“But what about the penguins?”

“That’s the best you can come up with?”

“It’s the reason we do everything.”

“Oh, love. If all we wanted to do was save the penguins,
we’d spend the money buying them ice-makers. Edmondsson wants an expedition.”

His hard face grew still harder, a cubist scowl. “And
I’m not going to give it to him.”

May’s heart lurched into her throat. He couldn’t. It
would ruin everything, not to mention cost her her job. She’d have to stop
taking her medicine—it was tier three on the cost chart—and that would make it
even harder to get a job. Nobody wanted to sit beside someone who couldn’t sit
still.

She snatched her hand out of his. “You’re just looking
for a way to get out of this.”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. He reached for
her hand, and she wanted to give it back to him. She fought the urge. He knew
what was best for her? He didn’t know anything.

“You’re just as bad as Edmondsson.” That stopped him.
She pushed on. “Don’t you think I can decide for myself how I want to be
treated? I’m not a ‘my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours’ man; I don’t need the
boy-stroking you do.”

He frowned, as if trying to follow her line of
reasoning. May wasn’t sure she could follow it.

“It’s your choice to work for someone who abuses you?”

“Exactly. My right. I know he’s not perfect, but I love
my job. I love what I do, and I think it’s important. Let him get off on
thinking we’re his slaves. I know I’m not.”

“Classic abusive rationalization.”

“You don’t know anything about it. About me,” she
corrected herself. Maybe he did know about the other.

“I know you are stalled on your painting. I know you let
some other man trample into your uterus without taking responsibility after.”

“That’s enough. I make my own decisions. I do. Bad or
good, they’re mine. My right.” She bit her lip. Why did she feel like crying?
Because his face was softening, empathetic. Pitying.

“And my rights to free expression? What about those?”

“Fine. You’ve had your say.”

“But you don’t have to listen.”

“But I have to act the way I see fit.” Which meant leaving
him. “I have to go back to work. Now.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“I think it’s necessary. I think it’s important for me
to do it.”

“Then go.” His mouth was flat, disappointed in her. Her
anger was fading as the worries about returning to work started to rise. She
refused to think about why thoughts of work always made her heart stutter
faster.

“Fine.” She turned, trying to calculate how long they
had been gone and how fast she could get back. A beautiful blond teenager
quickly stepped out of her way, past her.

“Beau Kurck?” She was breathless. “I knew it! You look
great. Would you take a photo with me? I love your penguins.”

May saw his face slip into the mask he wore when she
first saw him in the airport, firm and commanding. But he didn’t growl at the
groveling girl, even though he’d just told May he didn’t approve of groveling.

The girl didn’t miss a beat. Handing her phone to May,
she said, “Would you? Waist-up, please.”

Feeling like the always-helpful Asian-American girl, May
dutifully composed the photo, waist up, and took two shots. The girl’s smile
was well-practiced, but Beau’s lips were too mobile.

She handed the phone back, and the girl immediately
ignored both of them as she clicked through the images and typed busily with
her thumbs.

“May!” He caught up with her in one step. “I forgot to
ask. With flavors or not?”

Her mind was as blank as her face.

He looked toward the girl, and lowered his voice.
“Condoms.”

She felt slugged by a Nerf bat. “You still want me to,
you know…”

“You think because we argue I don’t want you anymore?”

Well, yes, she had. “Pretty dumb?”

“Unobservant, perhaps.” He smiled. “See you after work?”

She shouldn’t feel so girlishly grateful. But she did.

“Deal.”

****

Sadie, outside the foundation’s building, spotted her a
quarter-block away. She click-clacked in her flash pumps toward her.