Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (11 page)

Lucas: Thinking about pacing the room.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. He has a sense of humor. Thank God the man has at least one redeeming quality. How interesting that he actually replied.

“If all goes well, Gabby will join me in the UK a few months from now to kick off due diligence. Each of you will have a role in the process, but there’s nothing more important than ensuring that employees are taken care of.”

“Agreed.” Nearly everyone echoes the same sentiments.

“Gabby, is there anything you’d like to add?”

Turning to face Jack results in my leg pressing into Lucas’s thigh. Butterflies swarm my insides when instead of moving away, he presses his leg right back. Clearing my throat, I try to ignore the heat created between us.

It’s just his leg.

Everyone’s watching me yet it’s only Lucas’s stare that I feel.

“I’m in the process of putting together our strategy for due diligence. While Jack is traveling I’ll be reaching out to all of you individually to discuss talent among other things. I understand everyone’s busy but you’ll need to make this a priority,” I reinforce Jack’s sentiments.

Heating under Lucas’s gaze, I steal a sideways glance at him. His forehead creases under the weight of his concentration as if he’s processing a complicated equation. I wonder if he’s surprised that I actually do serve a purpose here. That or he’s constipated.

Realizing that I’ve caught him gawking, he purses his lips and shifts in his chair. He then removes his leg from mine before returning his focus to the meeting.

“Shifting gears,” Jack announces. “As you’ll recall, Gabby has been doing excellent work on a recommendation for a new Elder Care Program. In a few weeks I’ll pitch the program to the board. I’ve asked Gabby to give us an overview of her findings. Gabby.”

I begin my presentation with a statistical overview on the aging demographics of the American population, drawing correlations to the age of the company’s workforce to drive home the point that the majority of our employees are impacted by aging parents or grandparents. The slide builds out to then show the average cost associated with caring for an aging relative. I’ve included data and pictures of affordable facilities, be it nursing homes, rehabilitation centers or specialized centers that deal with conditions such as Alzheimer’s. When I describe the types of “care” these places give—one shower a week, twenty minutes of rehab a day, and meals that make high school cafeterias look appealing, it’s astounding the number of gasps I hear.

And it’s exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.

“We think this program will serve as an incentive for our employees as it’s unique and allows all of our employees to participate, whether or not their immediate family member is a dependent. If you’ll recall, a survey was conducted a few months ago asking employees to identify ideal program design and to determine the location and the type of care required. We used this information to design certain elements of the program and to identify top facilities.”

I click to the next slide. “We’re partnering with these providers similar to how our Child Care Program partners with daycares in terms of honoring discounts. The only difference is that these facilities will constantly reserve a percentage of their availability just for relatives of our employees, who will get discounts of up to forty percent for their dependent for the duration of their employment with the company. If the employee leaves, they’ll have to pay full price.”

“When will this program be available?” Stan asks.

“If it’s approved by the board it will be effective immediately.”

“Can we add facilities to the list of partners?” another staff member inquires.

“Yes. There’s an application process which we’ll review on a quarterly basis.” I pause and survey the room. “Any other questions?”

Jack thanks me and the team gives me a round of applause. I’ve worked my ass off on this program and though I’ve implemented other programs in the past, I’ve never done one on this scale. It finally feels like it’s paying off. Fingers crossed my family will be able to benefit from it too.

I return to my seat as Ted, the head of Finance, takes control of the projector and pulls up his twenty-nine slide presentation on cash flow, filled with bar charts ad nauseam. Some are the same as Jack’s, though positioned differently. I love being involved with the business but seriously how many ways do we need to see the same information?

Ted drones on about the P&L and I wonder how no one has fallen asleep yet. Needing stimulation of some sort, I bite my pen and begin bouncing my leg absentmindedly while mentally reviewing my growing to-do list.

Follow-up notes for legal. Finalize communication plan for Elder Care Program. Get updated brochures for the employee assistance plan. Approve list of charities for volunteer program. Get fondled under the conference table.

WHAT?!

Strong fingers grip my upper thigh and I freeze. It takes all my concentration not to audibly gasp. Turns out that’s not a hard thing to do when you’ve stopped breathing.

He’s touching me.
Holy shit, he’s touching me.

If I bite this pen any harder I’ll crack a tooth or it’ll explode in my mouth. The alternative is moaning and I’m not chancing that. For reasons only my body knows, I’m freaking out on the inside. Possibly because the skirt of my wrap dress shifted when I sat down, creating a slit the size of Texas over my thigh, and apparently an invitation to touch me. Only the thin layer of my stockings separates our skin.

His large hand makes a slow, torturous decent down my leg until he’s cupping my kneecap. Everything south of my bellybutton clenches.

Everything
.

Lucas leans into me. With his mouth hovering over my ear he whispers, “Stop fidgeting.”

His harsh tone contrasts with the warmth of his breath that lingers on my neck. Apologizing crosses my mind but I can’t find my voice. What’s the point anyway? I’m so turned on I’m not sure I’m sorry about a damn thing.

What is wrong with me?

His hand remains in place long enough for his point to be made. Like an idiot, I nod. His thumb caresses the outside of my knee just once before it’s gone. Either that or I’m losing my mind. The meeting continues around me yet all I can think is,
please put your hand back
.

Sadly, the meeting concludes without the slightest graze, ending seven minutes past our scheduled time. The minute we’re all excused Lucas bolts from the room and I’m not sure what to make of it. I bet he’s a stickler for being punctual. Somehow knowing that his next meeting is with me makes me giddy…until seventeen minutes pass and he’s a no-show.

Seventeen minutes of reliving his hand on my leg, rationalizing that he just wanted me to stop bouncing my leg. Time spent hoping that it was only an excuse for him to touch me. Seventeen minutes denying that I enjoyed it while simultaneously wondering if I imagined it.

I’ve officially lost my mind.

I finally give up on Lucas and head to the restroom. On my way, I hear boisterous laughter coming from Ted’s office. As I’m passing, I view Lucas casually leaning against the whiteboard, listening to Ted rant on about boating. Lucas’s lack of interest in the topic is so evident, yet Ted will never catch on. He’s longwinded and doesn’t get many visitors for that purpose. That, and he’s known for finding ways to insert buzz words into every conversation.

Either Lucas didn’t know what he was getting himself into, or he’s purposely wasting time to avoid me. Judging by his expression, I’m guessing it’s a bit of both.

Whatever, let him suffer.

I take two steps and pause, rethinking my position. If Jack or my manager thinks for a minute that I can’t handle this, there’s no way they’ll believe in my ability to influence others.

Screw it.

I knock on the door. Lucas appears relieved until he’s sees that it’s me.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to steal Lucas.”

“To be continued then,” Ted exclaims.

“Indeed,” Lucas replies with mock enthusiasm.

We walk in silence down the hallway. Nearing our offices, Lucas doesn’t miss a beat, making a b-line for his door.

I follow.

“Would you rather meet in here?” I question.

His jaw ticks side to side. I want to tell him he’ll get TMJ if he keeps doing that, and then I picture him with his jaw wired shut. Wouldn’t be much different than now I guess considering he doesn’t speak much, at least to me, but it’d still be satisfying.

“Now’s not a good time.” He leafs through stacks of neatly organized files, clearly ignoring me.

“We have a lot to cover, Lucas. Next week’s workforce pl—”

For whatever reason he’s completely put out by my presence. “Didn’t we just meet the other day?” he has the nerve to ask.

The amount of restraint it requires not to throttle him would be embarrassing if he could read my mind. “You mean when you walked out bef—”

“Email me the details,” he curtly dismisses me from behind his desk.

As composed as possible I remind him, “I did that on Tuesday, and will you stop cutting me off?”

“I’ll get to it later, Gabriella.” The man could not sound more annoyed.

“Gabby,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

His eyes fall to the ground near my feet and slowly travel up my legs. I hate how the tiniest bit of attention from him draws a physical response on my part.

He grabs his notebook. “Gotta run,” he tells me while casually walking toward me. He pauses inches from where I stand. “Appears you do as well.”

He’s gone before I can respond, leaving me standing bemused in his doorway.

“What the hell does that mean?” I question out loud, heading back to my office.

Flopping down in my chair, I groan and stare at the ceiling, counting the dots in the drop ceiling tiles. I sit up and wipe my hands down my legs only to have my fingers catch in my stockings. Great, I’ve got a run.

Gotta run.

Lucas’s words click.

Someone’s a comedian. And a dick.

I’m not a quitter but for now I’m done. This is too draining. As much as I need to invest in Lucas, I can’t let work with my other business partners slip because of it. Not to mention my imagination is running wild with memories I’ve clearly concocted. I need to go on a date.

After a quick trip to the ladies’ room to dispose of my ripped nylons, I pull up the spreadsheet I’ve created in preparation for the divestiture’s due diligence and get started.

It’s nearly 4PM when Mike knocks on my door. He takes a seat and starts shooting the shit about random things. In less than five minutes I’ve forgotten what a shitty week I’ve had—until the topic turns to Lucas and how great he is. It makes me fume when Mike comments on his responsiveness and the ideas they’ve collaborated on.

Must be nice.

Clearly Lucas’s pissy attitude has been reserved for me only.
Should I feel honored?
At least I don’t have to speculate anymore. He’s definitely got an issue with me.

“How are things between you two?” Mike asks. I forget that he knows me too well.

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That bad?”

I shrug. I could confide in Mike and it would stay between us, but I feel like that’d be betraying Lucas. Not that he deserves any level of loyalty based on his behavior to date. Call me naïve but I still have hope.

“We just haven’t found our groove.”

He raises a brow and waits. When I don’t take the bait he comes around my desk and begins kneading my shoulders. I close my eyes, letting the tension roll off me.

“Don’t stress over it. Everyone loves you, Gabs. You’ll get there.”

“Mmm hmm,” I groan as my skin begins to tingle.

“Lucas,” Mike calls out. “In here.”

I should have known he was near.

I exhale and open my eyes. Lucas stands just outside my office, his attention focused on Mike’s hands. His expression gives nothing away, but if I had to guess he doesn’t approve. Mike doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, mate?” Lucas lifts his eyes and finally replies.

“My last meeting canceled. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Mike gives my shoulders one last squeeze and returns to the chair opposite me. “Lucas and I are grabbing a drink. Why don’t you wrap up whatever you’re working on and join us?”

I look to Lucas and find him watching me in a way that makes it abundantly clear I’m not welcome.

“Thanks, but I’ve got plans.”

“Oh, right. It’s Thursday,” Mike replies.

“What’s special about Thursday’s?” Lucas asks, his interest surprising me and pissing me off in equal measure.

“She—”

“It’s personal,” I cut Mike off.

Lucas’s been an epic dick since we met. He doesn’t get to know details of my life outside of work.

I shut down my computer and grab my coat from the back of my door, closing it slightly. When I’m out of Lucas’s line of sight, Mike and I have a silent exchange. What I do on Thursday nights isn’t a big deal, yet Mike knows my family’s important
to me, and if I want Lucas to know, it’s my decision not his. He nods acknowledging just that.

I reopen my door and put on my jacket.

Why is this so awkward?

Mike drums his hands against my desk and then stands. “I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here,” he tells Lucas. “See ya tomorrow, Gabs.” He playfully ruffles my hair on the way out.

“See ya.”

I sling my laptop bag and my new pink Kate Spade purse over my shoulder and close my door behind me, putting me inches from Lucas who hasn’t moved.

I both love and hate his proximity… I think it’s mostly hate. It’s gotta be. At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of at this very moment.

“Is this how it’s going to be? Constantly blowing me off or giving me one word responses when it suits you?”

“I had to run,” he says flatly as the corner of his mouth twitches.