Just a Number (Downtown #1) (18 page)

Love,

Your Mother

Baffled by my mother’s words, I sought an escape. I wasn’t ready to make peace with my father. It sounded like she was trying to justify him, his words, and his actions. One distraction needed another; I went to wait for the next possible shock of the day.

Seated in my usual spot before anyone arrived for our meeting, I sipped my coffee and went over key points to be reported. Chairs filled around the table and along one of the conference room walls. As an opener, Suze threw out one of her typical words of the day. “Fraudulent.”

Before I could give my usual interjection, a familiar voice chimed in. “Something we want to avoid at all costs. Even if our clients supply us with the misinformation…”

Turning in my seat toward the orator, I looked straight into the eyes that bore into me just a few weeks ago, intimately. “Like portraying himself as something else?”

“Your rules.” He held my gaze.

Everyone ceased to exist. “Disclosure to unethical practice could be necessary at some point. Maybe best right up front.”

“Your rules.”

I couldn’t just remain silent. I couldn’t just sit quietly, ignoring his presence. No, of course not. I had absolutely no control over the accusing words that began to spill forth from my mouth, rapidly. “Devious. Dirty. Underhanded. Crafty. Unscrupulous. Deceitful. Lyin…”

He cut me off, once again, with simple repetitive words. “Your rules.”

Frustrated, I stood abruptly, slamming my hands on the table to steady my quick movement. “Stop. Stop. Stop saying
your rules
.” I probably looked like a crazy person. I’m sure I sounded like one. His eyes challenged me. The smirk on his mouth made me want to lunge at him.
Him and his damn lips! I could’ve easily swiped that look right off his cocky, beautiful fucking face!

“Excuse me!” Suze pulled up to her feet. “You two, we do have a meeting going on. There are many issues that need to be discussed, besides your lovers’ quarrel.” Pushing her chair in, she walked to the conference room door and stopped to address the room before exiting. “Dash, you continue.” Pointing in my direction, curling her finger. “You! Come with me.”

Slowly gathering my things, I followed her out. On my way, I heard someone snicker under their breath amongst other whispered voices. “Looks like things are about to get interesting around here.”

I trailed behind her with my head down and my shoulders slumped, ashamed. I knew I was about to be disciplined for the childish behavior I had exhibited in front the entire staff. I was wrong. I behaved abominably. I should’ve known better. Once behind the closed doors of Suze’s office, I stood stiffly. She moved around her desk and sat. “Have a seat, Willow.”

Seated directly in front of her, I took a couple deep, calming breaths before I spoke, not waiting for her to reprimand me. “Why the merger?”

She leaned forward, her chin resting on her steepled fingers, she began to speak. “It’s what the
associates
wanted. It was out of my hand.”

I tilted my head to the side, like a dog hearing something his master said that he didn’t quite understand. “I’m confused. Associates? I thought that title just lumped your employees into the mix.”

Shaking her head. “There are board members behind that word.”

“I thought you owned the company?”

“Yes, I do. But when I started this company, I needed backers. Silent ones, for the most part. They tend to be opinionated at times. When one of them caught wind of a certain hot shot New York PR exec going out on his own—taking his clients with him—they wanted in on his success. Not just any cliental, a phenomenal list of heavy hitters: celebrities and international product lines.” Settled back in her chair, she watched me as I processed all of the information she fed me.

“Dash?”

Nodding. “Yes. He is Oliver Enterprise.”

“Holy shit!” He was such an amazing commodity, the firm he worked for allowed him his own division title. Resigned to the fact, softly I added, “So, he’s not a rockstar-yoga-guru?”

“Well, I wouldn’t discredit that. He’s in hot demand. But, no, that is not his main racket.” I guess he was a bit like her. I had recently spied DJSuze in action; another person in my life with an alter-ego.

“Is he taking over?” I wondered if, at any point, while I was twisted around his body recently, he was actually my boss. “Has he already?”

“No, the same deal I received when I started this firm, will apply. He and I will be equals. Separate, but incorporated. Woodland, Oliver and Associates. I will still be in charge of the same people as before, including you. Everyone will maintain their existing clients.”

“That’s good. I would hate to lose control of my campaigns.” I blew out a long breath. I worked too hard to get where I was within the company.

“What was yours before the merge will remain yours.” Moving forward in her chair, again, looking me in the eye. “However, you will have to play nice. And soon. Pinard Vineyard; he represents them, if you hadn’t figured that out already. I know Skylar’s fashion showroom wants them as a sponsor.”

Things just kept getting
better
the more I thought about my current situation. Knowing schmoozing him was in the near future. “Yes, I understand.” But I didn’t like it.

“Oh, and…” She paused, changing her expression to something I couldn’t quite define. “Next time we have a staff meeting, please keep your personal life out of the conference room. Seems you both have a love for words. Maybe you could decide beforehand who will be injecting… interjecting.” Suze laughed. I did not see the humor, but managed a phony smile as I exited her office.

Briskly, I moved through the main floor, avoiding eye contact with everyone present. Storming through my office door, I closed and locked it. Hands on my hips, facing out the large glass window, I screamed as low and as loud as I could without anyone hearing me. “Ughhhhh!”

“Are you okay?” A voice questioned me from the left.

Turning my body, I looked at the liar, smiling on my sofa. “What are you doing in here… in
my
office? I’ve been told it’s still mine,” I challenged him.

He didn’t seem fazed by my stern stance. He remained seated, relaxing into the leather, and crossing his right ankle over his left knee. “I wanted to make sure
we
were alright?”

My body stiffed more. “We? We? There is no
we
.”

“
We
will be working together.” A slight smile was still resting on his handsome face.
Damn! Those lips were insane.

“While
we
may work at the same company—your company—there is no
we together.”

I stood firm. He spread his arms out wide along the back of my couch. He appeared to be enjoying himself. “I beg to differ.” The beginnings of a weak grin appeared on his chiseled face. “You need one of my clients; Pinard Vineyard.”

“So. You
did
know who I was!” I nearly pointed a finger at him, but instead, I folded my hands together in front of me.

“No. I knew of a
W. Dane
working with a client interested in having my wine company sponsor their event.”

I had to think about what documents he could’ve received. I had not contacted his company. I had sent a few brief notes to a representative at the vineyard in the South of France.
How were my business emails addressed?

I changed my line of questioning as I swayed from one leg to the other. Standing with confidence, in high heels, was uncomfortable. “The merger was before the retreat. Surely, you didn’t buy into a company without knowledge of their business dealings, their operation?”

He titled his head, exhibiting a certain smugness. It felt like he was toying with me. I was seeing whole different side of him. “I had no idea about the employees, if that’s what you’re implying,” his answer was evasive.

“You would’ve been given specifics on your new staff: how many, what accounts they handled…” He shook his head and I stopped my sentence.

“I didn’t know about
you
.” His tone stirred up a mixture of emotion within me.

Deciding to continue my interrogation of him, rather than climb onto his lap, I addressed his lying issue. “You said you were a fucking rockstar-yoga-guru.” The expression on his beautiful face suddenly changed and he looked as if he was about to laugh at me, or lash out. Simmering to a smirk, it was getting to me even more than his voice, but in a whole other direction. Instantly, I felt fired up. It felt like someone had upped the thermostat. “You fucking lied to me.” I didn’t want to lose my cool, but with the additional “fucking” to my sentences, it was evident.

He lowered his foot along with his arms and sat up straighter. “I am a yoga instructor. I never claimed that other title.”

“And I suppose you still had no clue, at the book convention, about me while you were, and I quote, ‘supporting a friend.’ No knowledge?” I lowered my quoting fingers from the air and crossed my arms under my breasts.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a minute. He didn’t look at me. “I was supporting a friend. He happens to be a client now, also. We were checking out the book signing event.” With his head erect again, he turned toward me and rubbed his stubbled chin. “You never mentioned work.”

“I was
supporting a friend. She asked me to come along for my opinion about the right target market.”

“And?” his questioning was different. He genuinely sounded interested in hearing my reply.

A bit shaken, baffled, I answered his question with a question. “And what?”

In the same tone as before, what I would call a business tone, he asked, “Was it right for Jewels by Tomasina, our newest signed client? Correction—
your
newest client.”

“Ha! You did know! And you kept me in the dark… came on to me?”

Suddenly, he was off the sofa. “Let’s get something straight,
sweetheart,
” his voice changed dramatically, and I had the overwhelming urge to slap his sexy face, but his next words struck me. “You came on to me first.”

“No. I. Did. Not!” I stomped my foot like a child.

He grinned and moved into my personal space. “Let me remind you.” He pulled me close by the hand, wrapped it around his tie, leaned into my neck and licked me. “Ask Thumbelina,” he whispered roughly before removing his breath from my tingling skin.

Drawn back, he looked me in the eye, once again. I was stunned. “What? That was…”

“Me.” He moved out of my reach completely. I missed the closeness. “I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

“You knew me at the resort,” my words were quiet, not frantic as when we began our conversation.

“I had seen you. At the bar that one night. Touched you. Smelled you…” his quiet words matched mine and were affecting my nipples… my panties. “I didn’t know who you were. I wasn’t even sure you were the same woman until I rescued you on the beach. And even then, I didn’t know what you did.”

“You lied. You lead me to believe you were someone else.” I looked straight into the denim-blue eyes that I loved.

He stared back at me. “You made the rules.
No details
were your two favorite words. I respected your wishes. I wanted you.” His fingers caressed the side of my face. “I did what I needed to do.”

“You’re not my boss,” my voice softened. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head. “No.” He took me into his arms. “You did everything right.” Capturing my mouth with his amazingly dark rose, full lips, I surrendered willingly to everything he had to give.

Dash

I
left Willow’s office after bending her over her desk, when I received a page through her intercom. “Mr. Olive, you have a client. A Mr. Holder is waiting in your office.” I thanked her, informing her I would be right there. I also made a mental note to contact our human resources department about replacing that wacky receptionist. She never got my name right no matter how many times I corrected her since I had arrived. And forget about her getting my clients’ names right. Always on top of my game, I knew all of my clients, so I had no chance of addressing them by the name she gave them. However, new people were being added to my clientele database. I couldn’t afford to look foolish or unprofessional to them.

Unprofessional. What I had just done to Willow in the office was exactly that. Once again, I had lost all of my control with her. Breaking my mouth from hers, I removed my jacket, tossed it on the couch, loosen my tie a bit, and rolled up my sleeves. Back in front of her, I listened to her breathing, watched the rise and fall of her full breasts. Then, I spun her around, folded her body over, lifted her skirt, and slid her sexy, red lace panties to the side. Red. Like her lush lips. I moaned as I plunged into her tight wetness forcefully with my sheathed cock. Over and over, in and out I moved as she pushed back grinding into me. Our rhythm, as always, synchronized. As one, our breaths mingled as our climaxes played out in unison.

We were undeniably a great connection and then we weren’t. Though she may not answer to me directly, she was a subordinate. I was a co-owner of the PR firm. Woodland, Oliver and Associates. My name, my reputation; it could possibly be at stake. How could we work together and play together? I was getting ahead of myself. We had not talked about
us
. We had just responded to each other physically. We needed to discuss our new development. First, I had a client to attend to.
Ha!
–Mr.
Holder.