They stepped into the sprawling golf course, the afternoon sun spreading warmth in the air. Gideon looked absolutely dashing – his fitted t-shirt outlined his muscles in his arms and shoulders, and the cut of his trousers defined his long legs. As he strode forward, he slipped on the sunglasses.
Summer followed a few paces behind, her palms slightly damp in nervousness. In the past, she used to accompany him to business meetings and gala events. But it was history now. The thought of meeting an important client made her uneasy, fearing she would mess up.
Even in her anxious state, she looked lovely in that perfectly fitted top and skirt. Her hair was held in a neat ponytail. A few golfers turned and glanced at her as they passed, drawn to her quiet charm.
But their attention only added to her nervousness. Her hands kept brushing her skirt down, her steps slightly unsteady. Her mind was so worked up that she didn’t notice Gideon had stopped. She bumped into him, letting out a startled gasp.
"Oh!" She stepped back instantly,
Gideon slowly turned to her, his brows knitting.
"I-I’m sorry...I didn’t see you stop." She pulled her gaze down.
"What were you thinking?" he asked sternly. "Don’t forget how much this meeting matters to me. Keep focused. Don’t get distracted. Understood?"
Her cheeks warmed. "Yes, I understand."
"Now, let’s go." He resumed his walk.
Summer breathed out slowly, mortified. ’God, Summer. How could you embarrass yourself like this?’ she scolded herself in her heart.
As they moved, they noticed a man dressed in golf attire swing his club gracefully. The ball flew high, slicing cleanly across the green field before landing far away.
"That was perfect," he laughed, praising himself.
Gideon paused yet again and leaned slightly toward Summer. "Mr. Hill is fond of golf," he said in a hushed tone. "He might talk about it. Just listen quietly. Don’t open your mouth unless necessary."
Summer simply nodded. She had little to no knowledge about golf. What would she possibly say about this game? Certainly, she would remain silent even if he didn’t tell her to do so.
"Uh, Gideon, you are here," Mr. Hill said with a grin, putting his club aside and approaching.
"Hello," Gideon clasped his hand firmly, a faint smile curling his lips.
But Mr. Hill’s attention drifted almost immediately past him to Summer. "This is..."
"She is my..." The word ’wife’ was right on the tip of his tongue when Gideon faltered. The reality cut in. They had divorced already, and the memory seared his heart. His expression stiffened as he composed himself. "My secretary, Summer."
"Oh, nice to meet you, Miss Summer." Mr. Hill stretched his hand toward her, his gaze never leaving her.
Summer reached out. "Pleasure is mine."
The moment their hands touched, she felt all wrong. The man’s grip on her hand was tighter and lingering than necessary. His thumb brushed the back of her hand in a slow, inappropriate stroke. It was beyond a professional handshake.
She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let it go.
"You are quite lucky to have such a pretty secretary, Gideon," he drawled. "I wish I could also find someone like her – a combination of beauty and talent."
Summer looked up at Gideon, feeling helpless. She hoped he could see the man’s vile intention toward her and help her, but he did nothing.
He met her gaze, clearly sensing her discomfort. Yet he didn’t step forward and pull her hand back. He simply stood there with an unreadable expression, saying nothing. And his silence made Summer’s insides twist in disappointment and pain. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Gideon, on the other end, was waiting for her to ask for his help. But he got nothing from her – not a word, not a signal – nothing. It frustrated him.
He tore his gaze away at last. "Mr. Hill, let’s sit down and talk business, shall we?"
There was a chill beneath that calm exterior. He had already lost interest in doing business with him. The moment he saw his wicked, lingering gaze on Summer, he lost the respect he had for him. But he didn’t walk away.
He wanted to see what Summer would do if this man tried anything more.
Would she call out to him for help? Or would she give in to this man for money?
"Yes, let’s sit there." Mr. Hill gestured toward the shaded spot in the side.
A metal pole stood sturdy, holding the wide-spread canvas canopy. The fabric fluttered with the light breeze. Beneath it, folded chairs were arranged neatly.
They sat down in the chairs.
"About the deal," Gideon started.
Mr. Hill held up his hand and stopped him. "What is the hurry? Let’s have some drinks first." Turned to Summer, he requested, "Why don’t you serve us some wine first?"
Summer couldn’t refuse. She picked up the chilled rosé wine from the bucket filled with ice and poured it into the glasses. As she served Mr. Hill, he deliberately brushed his fingers over Summer’s while taking the glass.
"Thank you, Miss Summer." He flashed a meaningful smile at her.
Summer’s skin crawled at his touch. She quickly withdrew her hand and sat back, restless energy coursing through her.
Mr. Hill took a leisurely sip, then leaned back. "About the deal," he started, "we can finalize it right away. You can start working as soon as you can. I’ll supply the raw materials. But..."
He paused to pour some wine into another glass. "Only if Miss Summer drinks with me," he said, his gaze sliding down her figure and rising again with a leer.
Summer hesitated. Her fingers tightened in her lap. She didn’t want to drink – not when she needed to return to the hospital later. But upsetting a client meant jeopardizing the deal. She could feel both men’s gazes on her, and her throat went dry.
"Mr. Hill, she can’t drink," Gideon finally voiced, sensing her hesitation. "I’ll drink for her." He poured more wine, filling his glass almost to the brim.
"No, no...I want her to drink," the man waved him off. "She is your secretary. If she wants her boss to secure the deal, she should show some sincerity. Let’s see what she can do for her boss."
This man was clearly making things hard for her. Summer didn’t want Gideon to blame her later that the deal was canceled because of her.
"I’ll drink," she finally took the glass and took a sip.
"Bottoms up, Miss Summer," Mr. Hill ordered, and she tilted her head back and drained the glass in one breath.
Gideon’s grip tightened around his glass so hard it seemed he would crush it. A muscle ticked violently as he watched her force herself to obey another man’s demand. He had been ready to help her, but she chose to comply instead.
’Fine. Since you don’t need my help, I’ll leave you on your own.’
Even though he thought that, squeezed painfully, anger coiled inside him. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
On the other end, Mr. Hill quirked his lips into a wicked smile, eyes glinting with lust as he stared at her, taking in the outline of her figure. He poured some more wine into her glass.
"Have more."
Summer glanced at Gideon, hoping he would step in. But he didn’t even glance at her. His face remained impassive. There was not a flicker of concern in his eyes.
It pained her. At this time, she recalled his message earlier. Had he already known Mr. Hill would ask her to drink? Had he anticipated this? Was that why he said those words?
The realization that Gideon might have brought her along to put her into an uncomfortable situation and that he might be doing this to torment her frustrated her.
Swallowing her emotions, she drank the wine. She didn’t put the glass down until the last drop of wine slipped down her throat.
"Miss Summer is good at drinking," Mr. Hill rasped. "It’s unexpected. I like it." He filled her glass yet again. "For our collaboration."
Summer’s head buzzed, the cheeks flushing. She reminded herself that she had to return to her daughter.
"I can’t drink more," she turned him down politely. "Please..."
"Uh, are you turning me down?" Mr. Hill frowned. "It’s disappointing. You only had two glasses. I thought you could handle your liquor."
He pushed the glass into her hand, demanding, "Have some more."
Helpless and trapped, she looked toward Gideon again, praying he would say something this time. But he stood up and walked away abruptly, pressing the phone against his ear.
’Gideon, why are you doing this to me? Did you bring me along to make me suffer?’
"Miss Summer, drink," the man pressed. "This is the last one. I won’t force you again."
Summer looked at the glass, her vision swaying slightly. After a moment of hesitation, she downed it as well. Her stomach churned.
"That’s good. I’m really impressed with you."
She pressed a hand to her abdomen, swallowing hard, fighting the urge to retch. But nothing was working.
"Excuse me," she stood up, "I need to use the restroom." She turned and hurried away.
Mr. Hill didn’t stop her. Instead, he watched her retreating form as he sipped his drink. Seeing Gideon was busy on the phone, his eyes glinted with opportunity.
Finished his drink, he went after her.
Summer clutched the sink as she threw up. Her face burned, her throat scratchy. She felt weak, as if the alcohol had drained the strength out of her body.
Leaning on the counter, she tried to steady her breath. Slowly, the racing of her heart calmed down, and the spinning in her head began to settle.
But the relief was short-lived. She felt someone’s presence behind her. The moment she looked up, she met Mr. Hill’s gaze in the mirror.
"Mr. Hill, this is the ladies’ restroom," she said frantically, turning to face him. "What are you doing here?"
"Don’t act innocent. You rushed in here. It’s a clear invitation. And I’m here – to accompany you."
With that, he pulled her flush to his chest, his lips descending on her shoulder.