TROUBLE 1 (4 page)

Gregory picks me up at seven sharp, his eyes taking in the red, scoop necked cocktail dress with pleasure. I’d vacillated for a good twenty minutes about wearing the thing and taken it off and put it back on at least three times before finally just swallowing and accepting that I have stolen Margery Farns’ dress and am indeed going on a date in the thing.

They’ll never find out, right?

As we get into the car, this time a chauffeured black town car, he breaks the silence and leans back to peruse me slowly.

“Did you do what I told you to do, Hannah?”

The question is a soft caress against my heated skin, and I swallow back a shiver of longing. And trepidation. Of course I hadn’t listened. I’m wearing another woman’s dress; no way am I going to go commando in the thing. Talk about adding insult to injury.

“No.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and I see the displeasure he tries to hide. It brings a smile to my lips, knowing that in this one thing at least I have control.

It’s not much, but it’s enough to put me back on a more solid footing.

“You should know I hate being disobeyed,” he says darkly.

“It’s okay, you’re just not used to it. You’ll get over it,” I assure him in a steady voice that belies the butterflies fluttering around in my belly.

I see his lips twitch at my confidence, and then he’s holding his hand out, waiting.

“Give them to me.”

My breath stalls, and I glance nervously at the driver, relieved when he doesn’t turn or even bat an eye. Of course he wouldn’t, he doesn’t know that Gregory is demanding the removal of my panties.

“No.”

“Yes,” he hisses, and I notice the way his nostrils flare and the thin slash of his lips. “Now, Hannah.”

I can’t tell you what makes me do it. Maybe I want to. Maybe it’s the total command in his voice. Maybe I’m just an idiot who’s spinning out of control. I don’t know, but I reach down and discreetly push a hand beneath my dress, hooking my panties to pull them off.

When I reach for my purse, intending to stash my panties so that I can put them back on in the bathroom at some point, he stills my hand and plucks them from me, shoving them into his inner jacket pocket.

“That’s better. So tell me, did you like Jordan’s presentation? I assume you know what he came to the table with.”

This pisses me off a little, because it suggests I am so brainless that I either don’t know what a moron Jordan is or I don’t do my job properly.

“I didn’t like it, no. I preferred the one I put together, but he obviously didn’t agree.”

This surprises him, and I watch his eyes narrow as he considers my crisp words.

“What did you put together that he didn’t present?”

It’s asked softly, but I can see I’ve piqued his interest, so I throw caution to the wind and tell him, going into as much detail as I can before the car stops and I am following him into Starlight.

It amuses me that I am eating at a place with a waiting list so long I hadn’t been able to get Jordan a reservation earlier than two months.

We’re seated in a booth near the back, and I scoot to the opposite side, not trusting him and my pantie-less ass right beside him.

“I want to see it,” he says suddenly, and it takes me a beat to realize he’s speaking about the presentation and not—

Get a freaking grip, girl.

“But…he’ll know I told you about it if you say anything. I don’t want to lose my job, Gregory.”

Jordan will fire me so fast for undermining him my head will spin.

“Don’t worry about it, Hannah, I can guarantee your boss won’t fire you because Jordan throws a tantrum.”

“How? How can you promise that? You’re not my boss. Mr Yates is a decent guy, but I’m just a PA, and if they find out I’m dating a client, a big client, and discussing business with you, I can guarantee you, I’ll be beating the pavement.”

The waiter arrives with our drinks, a white wine this time, and we order before he answers me.

“Yates has been looking for a reason to get rid of Jordan,” he admits. “That man plays golf three times a week and uses company funds to finance his pursuits. That would be fine if he’d actually had a good pitch, in the last year but he hasn’t. He’s lazy and incompetent, and Yates isn’t blind to the fact that you’ve been carrying him for months.”

I’m shocked and appalled at my lack of guilt over this. Sure, Jordan isn’t my idea of a dream boss, but he’s…I’ve got nothing to defend his lack of effort in the last months, but I don’t exactly relish the thought of him losing his job.

“You’re soft-hearted,” he says with a smile. “I can see you don’t like the thought of him getting fired, but you need to understand, it would have happened eventually. The agency is going to be restructured, and anybody who can’t or won’t do their job won’t have one for long.”

I think about what he’s saying and consider the odds of me keeping my job once Jordan gets the boot. It’s not as if I can be PA to an empty office.

When our food arrives I have to force myself to let it all go and just enjoy the feast. I’ll probably never get into Starlight again, so I might as well make the most of it.

“I didn’t meant to upset you, Hannah,” he says after a while.

“You didn’t,” I say, sighing around a mouthful of meltingly tender duck. “I just don’t want to get fired is all.”

“You won’t. Get that presentation to Yates’ office first thing tomorrow, and it will be fine.”

“But Jordan isn’t in tomorrow. He left for a long weekend in the Hamptons.”

He smiles, and I get a sense of what he would be like in the boardroom. Ruthless. Relentless.

“All the better. Now eat up, darlin’, and stop worrying about your job. I can damn guarantee you’ll still have it come Monday morning.”

I obey and savor the meal, allowing myself a slice of chocolate cake when the dessert cart rolls around.

At this point gaining an extra pound or two is the least of my worries. How the heck am I going to look Jordan in the eye knowing full well he’s about to get the axe?

Surprisingly, Gregory had dropped me at my apartment without once making a move for more. Maybe he’d seen that I was in no mood for hanky panky by the time dinner was done.

Now, as I make my way up to Yates’ office on wobbly legs, I feel this morning’s coffee make a swirling re-appearance in my stomach. This is so wrong, going behind Jordan’s back, but as Gregory said last night, Jordan has gotten himself here under his own steam.

I’m just following orders, trying to keep my job.

“Hey, Han. What can I do for you?” Taz asks when I reach her office.

As PA to the big boss, she is the matriarch, the queen bee, and an all-round dragon when it comes to running this place. I beat her only in the fact that I am OCD about getting things done before they actually need doing. I’ve mentioned I’m a control freak, right?

Taz has a lot more to get through than I do, so I forgive a few slips here and there and generally don’t give her shit when she forgets that I’ve made an appointment to be here.

“Meeting with Yates. He wants the Lucas presentation.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, I’ll just give him a buzz.”

I sit on the sofa nearby and fiddle with the folder, reminding myself that everything is fine. I’m fine. It shouldn’t be too hard to give him the folder and make it back to my office in one piece.

It’s Friday, after all. Everyone’s in a good mood on Fridays.

“You can go on in, Han. Do you want anything to drink?”

Oh, no. If she’s offering me beverages it means I’ll be staying a while.

“Thanks. Maybe a water?” I croak, rising to my feet shakily.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. Just take a deep breath and pretend he’s human. That’s how I’ve gotten through ten years with the guy.”

Her calm reassurance settles me, and by the time I am inside and facing the founder and CEO I am calm enough not to be a blabbering wreck.

“Good morning, Miss Newman. Please, have a seat,” he says softly, and I sit as gracefully as I can with the monstrous folder balanced precariously on my lap.

“Mr Lucas told me you have a presentation?”

I nod and place the folder on his desk, sitting quietly as he flips through it, taking his time to read it all. I study him, seeing the slight graying at his temples and the lines at his eyes.

I fancy that means Mr Yates laughs a lot and cross my fingers that he’ll show the same sense of humor with me if the presentation’s not what he wants.

After a few minutes of nervous waiting, he closes the folder and rests his hands there, eyeing me curiously.

“This is not Jordan’s work. I should know, he’s been here almost as long as I have. How long have you been putting pitches together to save your boss’s ass?”

Um?

“I can see you’re worried, Miss Newman, but rest assured, you are not here for a reprimand or firing. I was curious to see what you’d come up with for this account, and needless to say I was furious when that little snot Farns pitched his usual dross to my newest…client instead.”

I agree fully, having seen the presentation this morning. Jordan should be selling suntan lotion, not working on campaigns for multibillion dollar corporations.

“This will be presented this afternoon. If you’d like to present your own work…?”

“Oh, oh no!” I babble. “That is to say, no, thank you, Mr Yates, but I think an account as important as this one requires more experience than I have.”

I am no wallflower, but I know for a fact Gregory will be in that boardroom, and it will not be a pretty sight if I have to be anything close to intelligible. Better to cut my losses and move ahead.

“Thank you, Miss Newman, that will be all for today,” he says, dismissing me with a smile.

I make it out of the office and lean back onto the door with a huff.

“That bad, huh?” Taz asks, and I shake my head with a groan.

“No, he was really nice, I’m just glad I got out of there without making a fool of myself.”

“Here’s your water. I was going to bring it in, but I didn’t want to interrupt,” she says, handing me a glass of ice cold water.

I drink deeply and straighten, throwing her a smile as I leave.

“Lucky bitch.”

“Don’t I know it. Have a good day, Han!”

I make my way downstairs, feeling better about this situation than I have a right to. The phone is ringing off the hook by the time I sit down, and I answer, hoping Jordan hasn’t decided to go against his usual practice and is calling to make sure everything’s okay.

It isn’t Jordan.

“You have to come get her, Hannah! She’s been running off my staff, and she stripped down to her underwear yesterday and refused to get dressed! The customers were horrified!”

Yeah, all three of them, I bet.

I glare at the dress I’ve steamed and brought back to work with me, wondering if my theft hasn’t swung that thing called karma back at me.

“I’m sorry, Amber, but I can’t do it. I’m swamped at the moment and I have to work this weekend,” I lie.

It sounds horrible, but I am not spending my weekend with my crazy ass grandmother while Amber flits around enjoying her life. It’s about time she does something instead of just leaving me to juggle a million things. She’s my sister, and as such she has just as much responsibility in this as I do.

I’ve spent years paying for and visiting and herding Nana. It’s about damn time someone else took up the reins.

“But I have plans!” she wails, and I bite my lip to stop the I-don’t-care speech that’s hovering on my lips.

“So do I. I’m going away for the weekend,” I lie, crossing my fingers.

“But, didn’t you say you have to work—”

“You can handle Nana for a few days while you find another nursing home, Amber. It’s not the end of the world, you know. I did it, so can you.”

“Hannah, please, I—”

“She’s your grandmother too. Surely you can handle caring for her without your life coming to an end. Let her hang out in the kitchen for God’s sake, she loves baking and could probably teach you a thing or two.”

“Fine, but if she strips down again I’m going to be on your doorstep,” she warns.

“Just keep her in the kitchen on Thursdays and you’ll be fine.”

“What? Why?”

“Naked Thursdays are her thing.”

I put the phone down before her whining and wailing can start, and lean back in my chair to bask in the glow of another small but satisfying victory.

If I could afford to I would take Nana home with me and hire a helper to keep an eye on her and maybe take her for walks and keep her company. She’s a handful and probably going a little senile, but I love her and want her to be happy.

In a perfect world I could do that and not have to guilt my sister into helping out at all. Unfortunately, the world is not perfect, and right now I can’t afford to focus on anything but my job. If I let her, Amber will have Nana back with me, and there’s no chance she’ll come anywhere near us again.

“You’re deep in thought today, darlin’.”

I jump and sit straight up as Gregory comes ambling in, his charcoal gray suit doing great things for his tousled honey blonde good looks.

“Well, I’m a deep girl, Mr Lucas. What can I do for you today?”

Be cool, be cool. He’s just a man, I remind myself, steadying my suddenly shallow breathing.

“How did the meeting go with Yates?”

“Fine. Good,” I answer, knowing he probably already knows.

“I saw your presentation. It’s good,” he says, and pleasure unfurls at the compliment.

I know he’d never compliment me if he didn’t like it, so the fact that he is makes me feel good about all the work I put into it.

“Thanks,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

He’s around a lot for a guy who runs his own company and shouldn’t be here unless the agency’s pitching something.

“Dinner. Tonight. My place,” he says, leaning down to plant a swift, hard kiss on my lips.

I know that if I say yes and allow him to get me into his territory I will not be going home without being thoroughly taken. Gregory Lucas has displayed a surprising amount of patience thus far, and now he’s telling me that my time is up. Give in or move over, his eyes say, and I find myself nodding, not willing to move anywhere until I know first-hand what he is capable of.

That one night in his car had trapped me as surely as a fly in a web, and now I want to meet the spider.

“What should I wear?” I ask in answer, taking in the bright, sensual grin.

“Nothing at all, if I had my way, but as you need to get there without being arrested, something casual and comfortable. You won’t be wearing it for long anyhow. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and Hannah, darlin’?” he asks, stopping at the elevator to spear me with a wicked glance. “Do not wear panties this time.”