Destination Connelly (6 page)

N
ora

“
M
r. Trammal
—”

“Bill, Nora. Remember?”

I clear my throat, glad we’re having this conversation by phone instead of in person so at least I’m not forced to hide my facial expressions at his lame seduction attempts. “Bill, yes, of course. How are you today,
Bill
?”

“Extremely busy, but I always have time for you, Nora.”

Bill Trammal is the thirty-three-year-old brilliant, and I mean
brilliant
CEO of Project R&R, a company that develops bioconductor software for analysis and comprehension of genomic data generated by
wet lab
experiments in
molecular biology
. Now…ask me if I have a clue what that means. If I did, I would have followed my father into medical research instead of Carl’s footsteps into human resources. As luck would have it, I don’t have to understand the ins and outs of genomic data and software coding to find the right chief financial officer for his company.

He’s also made it clear he’d like more than a professional relationship. I’ve made it clear I don’t. Bill is handsome in a nerdy sort of way, I guess—if you look long enough at him and he’s in the just right light and you place your beer goggles firmly around your eyes. But he’s just not my type. Not many men are.

Because you compare them all to Connelly. You always have.
It’s not fair for mere mortal men to have to live up to demigod status.

“Well, I won’t take up too much of your time. I talked to Mark Longley about your offer and he has a daughter with some special needs.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Does that mean he’s turning down the offer, Nora?”

“No. But he does have some stipulations. Unfortunately, his fifteen-year-old daughter has cerebral palsy and they’ll need some modifications to any new home they purchase in the Columbus area. Home modifications are not generally a covered benefit by insurance companies, so he’s asking for a stipend of twenty-five thousand dollars to cover the costs.”

For the next few minutes, we talk about the requirements of his CFO candidate and I try to keep my thoughts on business instead of drifting to Connelly and the way that suit hugged the outline of his erection so damn perfectly. It was thick and long and I swear I saw it twitch once. He did a miserable job trying to hide it when he sat haughtily in that chair. My core tingles as I remember how I slipped my vibrator inside last night wishing it was him pulsing against my walls instead of silicone powered by four AA batteries.

After Bill goes silent again, I make a suggestion. “What if you counteroffered, upping it just to put him at ease? He would know you’re serious about working for Project R&R and you’d get the candidate you want.”

Bill Trammal may be a brilliant man, very book smart, but this should have been sewn up weeks ago. Getting him to make any sort of decision on this position is like pulling teeth from a chicken.

“Yes, yes. That’s not a bad idea, Nora.”

I barely stop myself from sighing. The constant tacking on of my name at the end of each sentence has grown irritating, like nails on a chalkboard over and over and over again.

I hear a noise and look up to see Uncle Carl peeking his head in my doorway. I wave him in, knowing I’m just about done with
Bill
here, but putting my finger to my lips so he knows to be quiet as I’m on speakerphone. He soundlessly slides into the seat across from me.

“I would also suggest adding a clause to reimburse him after he’s incurred the expense and we can add an extra condition that he has to reimburse Project R&R if he voluntarily terminates employment or is let go due to performance issues within a two-year period of time.”

Silence. Carl and I exchange glances and I roll my eyes while he smiles. He knows how challenging Bill Trammal has been.

“He is still the candidate you want for your CFO position, correct, Bill?”

“Yes, of course, Nora.”

“Then I assume I can discuss your counteroffer with Mr. Longley?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Great ideas, as usual, Nora.”

“Okay then. I’ll talk to him and circle back around with you soon.”

I punch the speakerphone lightning fast, disconnecting the call to avoid Bill asking me out. Again. It never fails. Carl’s laughing before my finger leaves the button.

“Good reflexes.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

“It’s paying off.”

“Thanks,” I reply with a big grin. I grab the yellow folder from the edge of my desk, making assumptions as to why Carl is here. “Did you want an update about the Gemini position?”

“No, actually. I was wondering how your
private
meeting went with Colloway yesterday?” he asks tentatively.

I settle into my chair and shut the file in front of me. I didn’t have a chance to talk to Carl again, as “instructed” by Connelly because…well, because I chose not to. I already knew I wouldn’t be taking the job, no matter how much goading he does.

“It was fine.”

“Fine? Just…
fine
?” His forehead wrinkles as his bushy brows furrow.

“Yes. Just fine.”

He regards me before speaking again. “He told me this morning you turned down the offer again.”

“Carl, we’ve talked about this.”

He looks at me sternly, putting on his best pseudo father face. “I want you to take the offer, sweet girl. If not for yourself, I want you to do it for me.”

That’s a low blow. He knows I’d do anything for him. I just…I can’t do
that
and I can’t tell him why. I know he thinks I’m just being stubborn, but I’m not. I’m protecting myself and the little I have left in this world I love.

“I can’t, Carl,” I say softly.

“Mira’s there. You can spend more time with her. Get to know your sister better.”

Mira is my
half
sister, my father’s daughter from his first marriage. She’s three years older than me, single, lives in Chicago, and is very successful and downright beautiful, both inside and out.

Mira and I were never close. In fact, I’d only seen her a handful of times growing up, because if my father didn’t have enough time for his current family, he certainly didn’t have time for his former one. We reconnected at our father’s funeral a few years ago.

“I don’t have to
live
there to get to know her better. We’ve talked a lot on the phone lately.”

My gaze flits to the silver picture frame sitting on my maple desk. Carl’s eyes follow and his mouth turns down. That picture was taken just days after we moved to Baltimore all those years ago. It was taken just before everything in my life changed.

Sighing heavily, he stands and paces, rubbing the silvery strands on his head. “Nora, there’s a one-year noncompete clause in the sale agreement that I’ve agreed to for all directors and above. It specifically includes you, too.”

My blood runs cold as my brain tries to catch up to what he just told me. “What?” I choke, not believing my ears. “Why in the hell would you agree to that?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Nora! I tried to leave you out of it, but Colloway wouldn’t agree. He can’t have half the staff quitting on him after the sale. One of the reasons he’s buying this business is because of the talent I’ve been able to secure. Regardless of what he says, it’s hurting Wynn and you’re our best recruiter. Our business has tripled within the last twenty-four months, and most of it’s because of you.”

I scoff. “You’re being ridiculous. That’s not true.”

“Nora, it is, and you know it.”

“It will never hold up in a court of law. We each have to give our signatory for that type of stipulation.” I’m grasping at strings that are quickly unraveling but I don’t have any other choice. I
cannot
work for Connelly.

“I assure you, it will hold up. And even if it doesn’t, you’ll spend more than a year going through the legal system.
Jesus
, I’m trying to secure your future here. Why are you fighting me on this?” he huffs in frustration.

“By handcuffing me? You know that means I can’t get another recruiting job for one year. What the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime for income?” It’s not like I’m poor with no money in savings, but I can’t afford to be without a job for an entire year until the clause expires either. Goddamn him.

He stops, looking at me pointedly. “Take the deal he’s offering.”

“It’s not that easy, Carl.”

“It
is
that easy, Nora. Why are you making this so damn difficult?” He raises his voice, almost yelling, and now I know something is wrong. Carl has not once, in all the years I’ve known him, raised his voice to me.

“I could ask the same question.” Uncomfortable silence thickens into a sea of foreboding I can scarcely see through. “What else?”

His eyes snap away before returning to mine. I see loads of regret hanging in them. Then he takes a deep breath and crushes my world knowing there’s no way I can say no now. “I need the money from the sale, Nora.”

My heart sinks and my head falls back heavily against my chair. “How much?” I choke through the lump of anxiety swelling my throat.

I love my Uncle Carl, but he’s a gambler. Not in the seedy, loan shark, someone’s-gonna-break-your-kneecaps-unless-you-pay-up kind of way, but in the get-rich-quick-and-risk-everything-you-love kind instead. He finds penny stocks he’s convinced are going to turn him into an insta-multimillionaire, even though he doesn’t need the money because he has a very successful business. Which he nearly lost once before six years ago because of this shit, mind you. He’s been taken for a ride more than once. It’s an obsession, a rush he’s told me he was done with time and again. Guess that was a lie.

He averts his gaze, embarrassed. “Enough.” Which means
everything
.

“Fuck, Carl,” I curse lowly.

“I’m sorry, Nora.” He means it, but it’s not nearly enough. This entire acquisition now rests squarely on my shoulders. Carl has to sell or go bankrupt. If I refuse to agree to the employment terms outlined by Wynn, not only will I be out of a job, but the rest of the one hundred and fifty people who work for my uncle will be standing in the unemployment line, or worse, embroiled in some type of scandal that’s no fault of their own, their resumes now tainted because they worked for SER.

No pressure there.

I think of my admin, Vicky, a single mother of three. Recently divorced, barely making ends meet with the bills she’s now sacked with from her loser husband who hasn’t paid a dime of child support and left her drowning under a mound of credit card debt.

I think of Brandon, another fellow recruiter who’s getting married in a month and how he and his fiancée, Patricia, are paying for their entire wedding themselves.

I think of Ronnie in accounting who is less than a year away from retiring. She needs her job to maintain her health insurance until she turns sixty-five.

I suspiciously wonder if Connelly knew all of this and if that’s the “thorough research” he’s referring to instead of what I originally thought—my secret that I’ve held tight to. It seems quite coincidental my uncle’s financial trouble coincided with an out-of-the-blue offer from Wynn. I don’t believe in those types of coincidences. Although it makes me angry either way, I’d rather have this be the “secret” he’s ferreted out than the ones I’m hiding.

“Yeah, me too,” I mumble, knowing I am well and thoroughly fucked.

Your day of atonement has finally almost arrived, Nora
. I knew it was coming. I knew it was inevitable. I just never imagined, in my wildest dreams, that my hand would be forced quite like this or that it would be done by both of the men I love.

C
onn

“
W
hat crawled
up your ass and died?” Asher asks over the mouth of his coffee cup. He blows on it for a few seconds before taking a careful sip of his black coffee.

Other than the fact it’s been two days since my meeting with Nora and I don’t have her signed employment agreement on my desk yet?
Not a fucking thing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I take a taste of my cappuccino to keep myself from saying anything else to add fuel to Asher’s fire like
shut the fuck up.

He laughs, popping a chunk of blueberry muffin in his big mouth. We met for breakfast this Saturday morning because Alyse was attending a Pilates class and Asher had some free time. He and Alyse were married a month ago and ever since, he’s been pretty preoccupied with his new wife. Hell, since he
reunited
with Alyse, he’s possessive and obsessed, almost never leaving her side. I have to say…I miss my best friend. Not that I’m jealous or anything. I most certainly am
not
. Not in the least.

“I call bullshit. You haven’t been acting like yourself for the last few weeks. What gives?”

“And how would you know that?” I growl, pissed that he’s called me out on my sour mood. “You’ve barely come up for air since you got married.”

A devilish grin eats up my twin’s face. “See, now I
know
you’re hiding something. The Conn I know would be giving me a high five instead of sounding like a jealous little bitch baby.”

“I’m not fucking jealous.” I may be. Just a little.
Christ
.

I hate these crazy, nonsensical feelings racing through me. I’m nervous, anxious, and worried. All of which I’m not used to. I don’t know what to do with the noxious stew brewing inside me. It needs an outlet or I’m going to blow. I have an inordinate amount of patience, but when it reaches its end, watch the fuck out. You do not want to be in my warpath because it’s downright ugly. I get that trait directly from my mother.

Asshole laughs. “I think you are. You know I can feel your emotions, right? Just like you can mine.”

That’s the thing about twins or at least with mine. It doesn’t matter how far away we seem to be from each other, I can sense when Asher has extreme emotional swings. High anxiety, extreme sadness, or happiness. Unfortunately, that works both ways and he can easily tell I’ve been under some high stress myself lately.

“How’s that acquisition going?” he prods knowingly.

Wynn Consulting sits under GRASCO Holdings, a company my brothers, Gray, Asher, and I own and run. Gray is the GRASCO chairman of the board and Asher is the CEO of another subsidiary under GRASCO, Colloway Financial Consulting. The GRASCO board, which all three of us sit on, needs to approve any and all acquisition activities. My brothers, along with the other three board members, have been supportive, albeit wondering why the hell I’ve set my sights on them.

I regard Asher quietly, wondering what he suspects. I’ve not said a word to Asher about Nora working for SER, but he knows something is askew. Surprisingly, he’s kept his mouth shut about the whole thing, not questioning why I’m hell-bent on owning a company I don’t need but want desperately. Guess that was bound to end sometime.

“It’s going.”

“Run into a snag?”

“Nothing I can’t overcome,” I announce with more assurance than I feel as doubt slithers its way through me, undermining the confidence I had when I set this all into motion months ago.

I’m usually the guy who thinks of plans A through E because you don’t know when your first four plans will fall through and you’ll need the fifth one. That’s the one no one thinks far enough ahead about to orchestrate. That’s why I win a hell of a lot more than I lose.

I plan.

I scheme.

I win.

Period.

I’ll eventually win SER, but I could care less about them. What I care about is getting Nora back into my life. My bed. My future. I will stop at nothing until I have her.

“Don’t doubt that. You’re not one to lose when you want something.”

“No, I’m not.” I’m man enough to admit I’m not the most gracious loser and if anyone knows that better than me, it’s Asher. In my book, if you’re not first, you’re last. The second place podium is lower than the first for a reason. I don’t know a damn person who competes in anything: sport, careers, life, where they set out to be
second
place.

“You seem to want this company pretty badly. More than I think I’ve ever seen you want anything.” He holds my stare, daring me to deny it. I give him nothing and he adds, “So who is she?”

“Who’s who?” I ask, feigning ignorance. I take a gulp of my too hot cappuccino, burning my tongue in the process. Shit…that hurt.

“Really? That how we’re playing?” he responds with a chuckle, raising his brows in challenge.

“Isn’t it about time to get back to the wifey?” I chide, trying to change subjects by pissing him off. Asher and I are two peas in a pod when it comes to doing shit like that.

He doesn’t take the bait, the fucker. “Cut the shit, Conn. You’re wound tighter than a fucking top. You’re moody, short-tempered and preoccupied. Hell, you’re acting like…” He stops midsentence narrowing his eyes as if he’s just solved a brainteaser. And knowing Asher, he probably has. Then a broad grin splits his lips. Kinda how I’d like to do it about now, except mine would involve a fist and blood. “You’re acting like Gray did. Well, I’ll be damned,” he drawls, his cocky smile broadening. “You’ve found her.”

“Know what I think?” I once again rush to change the subject, not quite ready to talk about Nora. Not until I know I have her. That way if for some reason I lose her, I can suffer my humiliation alone. Losers like to tuck tail and hide their shame from others. Not that I’m used to being on the losing end, so I can only imagine that’s how they would feel.

Knowing exactly what I’m doing, Asher laughs loudly, drawing the attention of two striking women in their mid-twenties sitting in the corner of the small café. When they giggle—
annoyingly giggle
—my eyes flick to them and back to Asher, my dick not even twitching.

Even just a few days ago, I’d have been making eye contact, smiling, flirting, drawing them in. Getting into one, or both, of their panties, would be like taking candy from a fucking baby.

So easy.

Too
easy.

But since seeing Nora again, I have zero interest in any woman who doesn’t have haunted emerald eyes that hold tight to secrets of the past, honeyed red hair that lightly caresses the blades of her shoulders, or curves that rival Marilyn Monroe’s. Even
thinking
of Nora makes me harder than titanium.

Jesus, I’m fucked ten ways to Sunday. I knew it the moment her footsteps faltered when our gazes violently collided two days ago, but can I be the man she needs? Can I give her what she wants and deserves? After spending so many years being emotionally unavailable and in more beds that I even care to count, am I even
capable
of intimacy? Of tenderness? Of selflessness?

Do I truly think I can start over again with a woman who ruined me before?

I don’t know, but I want to try.
That
much I do know.

“If I give you the house at Mackinac
Island this New Year’s Eve would that persuade you to keep your opinions to yourself?” Asher quips.

“Hell no. I plan on winning that fair and square on Thanksgiving, asshole. Last year was a fluke and nothing more. And I think Alyse’s magic pussy has you so whipped you’re looking for things that aren’t there, brother.”

My twin regards me silently, a slight curve tilting his lips, but anger burns hot in his eyes. I’m not sure, but I may have just earned my own fist to the face. Asher is fiercely protective of Alyse and I understand why. What I said borders on disrespect, yet I have nothing but respect for my twin’s beautiful wife who has made him happier than I’ve ever seen him.

“I’m going to do you a favor and ignore the chum you’re intentionally flinging, but know this, Connelly. You’re not as cagey as you think you are. I’m the motherfucking expert at avoidance. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to talk.” He rises and pushes in his chair before pinning me with a heated glare. “And you ever mention my wife’s pussy again, I’ll take great pleasure in laying you flat on your back, you fucker.”

I grit my teeth and nod tightly, knowing I’ll have to apologize later, but still feeling too surly to do it right now. I throw two twenties on the table, exit the small café, and make my way to my office.

An hour later, I’m reviewing the final SER acquisition paperwork, fuming that I don’t have a signed employment agreement on my desk yet from Nora Cantres. With every hour that passes, my irritation at her stubbornness increases. My fingers itch with the urge to make her acquiesce to my demands. My cock twitches with the need to board GRASCO’s new private plane, fly to Cincinnati, throw her over my shoulder, and haul her ass back, swinging and bellowing. Hell, I would even take great pleasure in binding and gagging her if necessary. After I strip her naked of course.

My world-famous patience is nearing its end when my phone rings, dragging me from the multiple plans I’m formulating to get what I want. Seeing it’s our attorney, I quickly answer knowing it’s about SER.

“Harold.”

“I got a call this morning from Carl Steele. He has one final condition to the sale.”

I hold in my angry sigh. Fucking Carl and his stipulations. It’s taken me months and a few strategically placed discussions to convince him selling his business to Wynn was the right—
the only—
decision he could make. If I could get away with stealing his company out from underneath this sorry excuse for a man and a business owner, I would. So far he hasn’t held up his end of the bargain. I’m not in the mood to give him anything else until I know I’m getting what
I
want, but Nora has to sign the agreement of her own free will or it will never hold up.

“What is it?” I keep my voice calm when I feel anything but.

Harold hesitates. I shake my head knowing this stipulation is going to be a doozy. “He wants written assurance that you won’t close the Cincinnati location for three years or lay off any of the employees at SER during that time.”

“What?” I laugh. “Is he out of his ever-loving mind? He wants employment agreements extended to
everyone
at SER? He can’t negotiate what happens to his business
after
he sells. No fucking way. Forget it.”

Harold ignores my unusual outburst, continuing. “There’s one more thing.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” I say on a chuckle. Leaning back in my smooth-as-butter Italian leather chair I grab my stress ball, tossing it in the air. I effortlessly catch it with each pull of gravity on the sponge. “Go on.”

“Carl wanted me to pass along that Ms. Cantres has agreed to execute the employment agreement if you agree to this condition.”

I freeze, the forgotten globe falling to the floor. It bounces across the room, where it stops against the leg of my cream-colored sofa. I think back to the conversation Nora and I had in the conference room about whether I intended to close the Cincy office and my response that I had no immediate plans.

Then I smile.

This is not Carl’s requirement. It’s Nora’s. In addition to being beautiful with a stellar professional reputation, she’s a shrewd businesswoman, too. The selfless side of Nora I’d witnessed many times when we were just kids is once again showing itself. I’m glad to know it’s still there underneath her irritating stubbornness.

“Done.”

“Connelly, my professional advice is to reject this condition. We have a solid offer on the table. This term limits your ability to effectively and efficiently integrate SER into Wynn. There are obvious areas of overlap and agreeing could be an expensive financial mistake.”

I grind my teeth, pissed that Harold’s insinuating I’d make an intentionally poor financial decision for Wynn or GRASCO. As much as I want Nora, I would never do that to myself or my brothers or our company that we’ve busted our asses to build together. And essentially all she’s done is ensure that SER employees remain stable and that Wynn employees are the ones affected once we start thinking consolidation of functions and duties. Her beauty is breathtaking, but her intelligence is sexy as fuck. She senses how much I want this so she’s making me work for it. Classic Nora.

“I said agree to the terms, Harold.”

“Connelly—”

“Harold, I respect and value your opinion, but do what I’m paying you to do.”

“May I suggest an added clause?” he responds tightly.

This time, I let my sigh free. “Not if it costs me the sale.”

“This should be acceptable. It seems the concern here is for the continued employment of the SER associates, so I would offer a stipulation that we agree to one year and if business conditions change that require loss of employment, Wynn will provide a minimum of one-year of severance to any affected associates.”

“Make it one and two years of severance.” Per the terms of a severance agreement, once the recipient is gainfully employed, severance ends. So this gives us time to develop and execute a solid integration plan and gets Nora what she’s asking—financial security for people she cares about. And, of course, garners me what I want.

Her
.

“Of course.”

“And you can tell Mr. Steele that as soon as I have Ms. Cantres’s signed employment agreement on my desk, we have a deal.”

I can tell he’s irritated when he hangs up, but I don’t care. I can’t help the slow smile that creeps across my face. I think maybe Nora has been underutilized as just a recruiter, even though she’s excelled and has been highly successful in that role from everything I hear. When she works at my company, I have no doubt the sky’s gonna be the limit for her. The thought of her leading by my side, like the queen she is, makes my heart pound in excitement.

I stand and retrieve the ball, tossing it toward the net hanging from the back of my closet door.

Swish
.