Page 1 of Takeover
Chapter1
Gwen
The wind whippedaround me in a furious torrent as I eased open the balcony door, trying to get a reprieve from the noise at the benefit.I only needed ten damn minutes to myself.
It was impossible after the catering fucked up, and I fixed the flowers, and I stopped a senator from getting into a fistfight with a D-list actor.But it was my mother’s birthday.Earlier, my sister Morgan had managed to sneak in a bottle of champagne, so I could do the ritual even without her.
The blast of wind was strong enough to make me wobble a bit, and I sucked in a sharp breath as the wind snuck around the opening of my peacoat and wrapped me in its chilly embrace.
I closed the balcony door behind me and dragged in a deep, frigid breath.It was March.Where was the goddamn spring weather already?I went out to the rail of the stone balcony and set the champagne down, sighing as I pulled out the little makeup compact full of glitter."Happy birthday, Mom."
She would have been fifty today.I could still see her bright shining smile every time she saw me and Morgan.And the best part about Mom was that she always made time for each of us to have our individual identities with her.She and Morgan used to go to the park every time it was one of their birthdays, just the two of them for a couple of hours.
For me and Mom, we always had a moment to make our glitter wishes.The one unimpeachable wish that we would share with each other and no one else.
I uncapped the makeup pot, took a swig of champagne, and poured the glitter into my hand."I miss you, Mom.And my wish for you, on your fiftieth birthday, wherever you are, is that you know you are missed and that you are surrounded by love.”
Then I opened my palm and blew the glitter into the air.
Unfortunately, that was when another gust of biting wind hit, and much of the glitter hit me in the face and blew back onto the balcony.
Somewhere in the shadows at my right, someone coughed."Oh, for fuck's sake, glitter?"
I whipped around, brandishing the partially drunk champagne bottle as a weapon."What the fuck?"
A man stepped out of the shadows, and my breath caught.He was tall.Ridiculously tall.Tall enough to make me take a wary step backward.I could already see where the sparkly glitter had hit him on his sharp Italian-cut suit.There was even a touch of it on his sharp jawline.
His shoulders were broad, like a swimmer's shoulders.The suit was tapered and fit snugly, showcasing his broad chest.And the fabric hung like a dream and looked like it would be buttery soft too.
"Start talking, or I’ll start whacking."
He chuckled low."You're not going to do much damage with that champagne bottle, especially if you keep pouring it out like that."
My arm holding the bottle had tipped over.And he was right.Champagne was spilling.
"Fuck."
The bottom hem of my Christy Brown dress was wet, and I cursed."Damn it, I said start talking."
"You're the one who came out and covered me in glitter.Who carries around glitter anyway?"
"None of your goddamn business.Tell me who you are before I show you how handy I can be with a bottle of champagne."
"Well, aren't you a violent little thing?"he murmured, his voice like silk down my back.
I held the bottle higher and his hands went out."Relax.My name is Atticus.I was here first.I just didn't let you know I was out here because… Well, you looked like you needed a moment."
Holymotherfuckingshit.Atticus fucking Price.I’d glitter-bombedtheAtticus Price.Freaking excellent.
The man had only been on the cover ofForbesthree times in the last year alone.Pendragon Tech was at the forefront of cutting-edge prosthetic technology, and they’d gotten into the renewable energy game three years ago when he’d taken over as CEO.
I lowered the bottle."You're not here to attack me or something?"
Even in the shadows, I could see the hint of a smile as he stepped forward.And this time, the step I took back was pure self-preservation.
One thing was glaringly obvious; theForbesphotographer should be shot.They hadn’t done the man justice.I didn’t have much else to go on because the man was usually a cipher.He attended these kinds of things, wrote a check, and vanished.You rarely saw him in a society page, and it was rare to see his name on any of the gossip sites.
Good Lord, even in the moonlight and shadow, I could tell the man was gorgeous.Like stupidly gorgeous, with a chiseled jaw that looked like it was cut from stone and the kind of cheekbones that would make any model jealous.He had deep-set, shrewd, ice-green eyes, a straight Roman nose that looked like perhaps it had been broken once or twice, complimented by a high brow only slightly covered by a curling lock of dark hair, and lips full enough to make you fantasize about kissing him.
