by K T Grant
CHAPTER FOUR
The slamming of a door and loud voices outside her room slapped Kennedy awake. Her eyelids wouldn’t open, and her body, all her fingers and toes, were paralyzed. She lay there as her awareness grew and the circulation in her muscles came to life. Pins and needles then attacked her, and when a cramp locked around her foot, she rolled onto her back and rocked.
“Fuck shit, fuck shit.” She massaged the affected area, hoping to relieve the pain.
Digging her fingers into the sore muscle did help, but it took a few minutes for the pain to dissipate. She blinked the sleep away from her eyes as she got her bearings, lying among rumpled sheets as flashbacks of last night zipped in front of her. As the pain in her foot eased, she turned to her side, catching sight of the wine bottle Marella had brought with her, still half full since they’d never gotten out of bed to drink it. The hours had slipped away in a frenzied coupling that only ceased when Kennedy drifted off to sleep, totally drained from the number of orgasms she had, combined with her body finally shutting down from sex exhaustion.
“What a night.” She rubbed her chapped lips, in desperate needed of water. As she became more aware, her body did, too, bringing attention to more post-coital aches, especially between her legs, her thighs and lower back, and some itchiness around her nipples and breasts. Peering at her bare chest, she took in a rash-like redness.
“What the hell did that woman do to me last night?” Not ready to see how inflamed her inner thighs and pussy were, she sat up with care, leaning back on the padded headboard. She didn’t have any idea of the time, although sunlight filtered through the blinds and curtains they hadn’t bothered to get up to close last night.
The need to check the time on her cell—since there wasn’t a clock in the room—and to pee pushed her to leave the bed. But sleep still tickled at her, tempting her to lie back down—
A piece of paper lay on the round bedside table. The large, broad script took up the entire page. She held it to her face, squinting to read without going after her glasses, wherever they might have ended up.
Marella’s note bore a lipstick stain at the bottom. She’d actually reapplied her lipstick after their night together? Amused by the idea Marella took time to primp before she left, Kennedy scanned the words but then read slower a second time to digest them better.
My Darling Kennedy,
Thah-ka thyer fi-rir, (means ‘thank you’ in Icelandic) for an incredible night of conversation, drink, food, and the other fun that led us up to your room to become better acquainted. I enjoyed myself immensely during my few shorts hours in your company. I hope I made your first night in Reykjavik eventful, and you will have a fond memory to take back with you when you leave. I have a feeling we may see each other again while you’re here. If that’s the case, we’ll finish the wine I left in your room.
Until next time, Elskan.
Yours, Madame M.
She lay back on the bed, resting the paper on her chin. Other the note and the aftermath of her loving, which consisted of some soreness, aches and probably bruising in a few interesting areas on her body, there was nothing to prove Marella had been in this room. Last night was now a memory, and would soon be a distant one. But one she would definitely take with her when she left.
Re-reading the note, she cupped her breast, swiping her thumb over her nipple, remembering how Marella did the exact same thing to her many times last night. Whenever she touched herself in the future, she would remember the way Marella did, and the pleasure they had shared. But then she would end up longing for her mysterious Icelandic lover. The odds of seeing her again were probably miniscule since their one night together was all she could give.
***
Svana lowered the speed and then grabbed the bars of the treadmill. She rolled her head around, blinking the sweat from her eyes. Heart pounding, she took a few deeps breaths, energized from her hour-long exercise routine. A good start to a Monday, especially since it was barely seven in the morning.
Snagging a towel, she wiped her face and back of her head, coming to a complete stop and climbed off. Patting her face, she viewed the large exercise room, glad she had made the space and the state-of-the-art equipment available for the use of any Landvik employee who wanted to exercise before or after their work day.
She started her workday here at six every Monday morning, not minding the solitude. She had a small exercise room in her house, right next to her recording studio, a feature of which few were aware because, why would the CEO of one of the biggest breweries in Iceland record music in her free time? She did it to keep the memories of her past life alive. If everything went as planned, the past would soon meet the present, blending into the future she’d always dreamed of.
Speaking of her dream becoming a reality, the person who would give it to her on a silver platter was calling as she did every Monday. Early today, though.
Easing down on a bench, she winced at the aches in her inner thighs from the entirely different type of exercise she’d engaged in over the weekend, and answered the phone. A sharp burn zipped through her when she thought back to how she spent her Friday night and early morning Saturday. She was already anxious to see Kennedy again.
“Hello, Madame M! How’s Monday morning in Reykjavik?” Audra, her longtime friend and soon to be manager, asked in a voice far too chipper voice for two in the morning New York City time.
“You’re still up?” Svana lay down on her back.
“Just got home from a concert and after party the record label hosted for this amazing rock band I signed last year. They’re called Quicksand, and they’re going to be global if I have my say,” Audra announced with her usual smugness.
Audra was the heir to Coda Music Group, the huge record label that had signed Svana at the tender age of fourteen as their next pop-star phenomenon.
“You should have them preform at the Harpa.” Maybe one day Audra would take her up on her offer to have some of her clients play at Reykjavik’s premiere concert hall. It would liven things up a bit there, giving a nice break from the usual orchestra and symphony performances.
“Maybe this October when you have your homecoming performance there after twenty years away from the business,” Audra said.
“Let’s see how things go when I come to New York. You may want me to stick to song writing and not singing.” She tapped her fingers on her leg, the tune of a current US pop hit she had written the lyrics for rolling in her head.
“Oh, please. Your voice still makes men come in their pants.” Audra giggled. “The demos of the songs for your upcoming album will prove it.”
“Working with a singing coach for more than ten years helped.” She sat up and straddled the bench. “If all goes well with this deal with Segal, I’m committed to bringing Marella out of hiding. Konrad is on board. My Uncle Verner is the only loose end.”
“Pfft, your drunk uncle won’t give a shit as long as he has access to unlimited amounts of Landvik vodka and money to throw around on those barely legal hoochies he’s addicted to.” Audra didn’t hide her opinions from Svana. Their friendship of two decades was stronger than ever and full of honesty. Also, she was in agreement with Audra’s opinions of her uncle, who was Landvik’s executive manager in name only.
“He still feels he should be CEO instead of Konrad.” She cracked her neck from side to side to release the tension there. “Are you ready for the firestorm of press coming your way when I announce I’m stepping down as CEO to revive my musical career?”
“I’ve been waiting years for this moment. It’s about damn time!” Audra hooted.
She rolled her eyes at her friend’s excitement. As she sat up, her irritation spread. Her uncle, dressed in a suit, complete with a vest and tie, and for once not looking haggard from a hangover, knocked on the glass door to get her attention.
“This is a first. Uncle Verner is here before ten and sober for a change. I’d better see what he wants.” She waved him in.
“B
e nice. I’ll talk to you in a day or two to cement your plans for your visit in two weeks. We’ll record music that will make us millionaires,” Audra exclaimed with such strong excitement Svana tasted it.
“We’re already millionaires,” she whispered into the phone as her uncle entered the room. “Good-bye.”
“Already wheeling and dealing?” Verner held out a coffee from her favorite café.
He rarely bought coffee, let alone for her since she had her own coffeemaker in her office, as well as one in the kitchen her employees couldn’t get enough of. Taking the offering, she thanked him and took a sip, closing her eyes as the dark roast exploded in her mouth.
“Just checking voice mail.” She chose to be less than forthcoming since he didn’t have a clue about her future plans. “You’re here early. Why?”
He tugged on his ear and sipped his coffee. A pang hit her chest as she remembered her father having the same type of quirk with his ear. Her father had been the first born with a five-year age difference between the brothers. But, other than some mannerisms, that’s where the similarities ended. Her father drank in moderation and only in social settings or during the holidays, unlike his alcoholic brother.
Verner jiggled his coins or whatever lay in his trouser pocket. “Today is a big day. I wanted to review the contracts one last time.”
She should have been impressed by his dedication, but it was a rarity. At least his suit and tie gave him an air of respectability and highlighted his handsome visage. He’d even shaved and added a pleasant-smelling cologne. A man in his mid-sixties, even with his alcohol issues, he was never without female companionship. His two ex-wives could attest to that. With his current bachelor status, always enjoying the company of some young woman—young the key word, meaning his current dating pool was now younger than her. In some cases, much younger.
“Does that also mean you added nothing special to your coffee to give it the kick you need?” She didn’t smell anything pungent, but he was skilled at hiding his addiction. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d added a generous amount of schnapps or rum.
He frowned, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Just milk and sugar, like yours.” He checked the gold wristwatch he loved showing off. “I’m surprised Konrad isn’t here yet, or the lovely Vala.”
“Konrad was here most of the day yesterday, testing a new beer. Vala will be in by nine like always.” She’d called Vala, her dedicated vice-president, on the drive here a little over an hour ago, part of her routine to wake Vala up as early as she could during the week.
He snorted. “Konrad does realize how important today is? He can be absentminded, and we can’t have him—”
“Verner.” She gritted her teeth and loosened her grip on the coffee cup. Even though he was an adult and one of the smartest people she knew, her brother was a bit awkward socially. Verner sometimes took advantage of this with his cruel and insensitive criticisms of her little brother. “Konrad is very aware of our meeting with Kennedy and what it entails.”
He shot her a surprised look. “You’re already on a first name basis with Miss Segal?”
Shit. Verner would pick up on any slip and run with it. She turned to get her phone from the bench, giving her a few moments to pull herself together. If he found out what she’d done with Kennedy this weekend, he would use the information to sabotage her future plans, and perhaps those of Konrad, who would become her successor.
“Emails.” She turned back around with a blank face. “I’ve shared many emails with the Segal siblings, and we now call each other by our first names. Have a problem with it?” She knew he would, since he wanted to be involved in every step, even something simple as friendly emails. Part of her statement was indeed fact. She and Omar were on a first name basis, and he had even mention Kennedy by name on many occasions. She had bypassed emailing Kennedy directly and become acquainted with the woman in a much better and personal way in which first names were a given.
As thoughts of Kennedy, and the way she came apart as she made her climax, whizzed through her head, she got a hot flash. How would Kennedy react when they saw one another again? Shaking her head, she pretended to check her cell as she walked to the door to leave.
Verner followed. “I have a good feeling about today. Maybe because we’re all going to be much richer than we already are.”
“Always about the money for you,” she said in a light tone, biting her tongue to avoid mentioning how his love of booze almost superseded his passion for being rich. She, too, liked living comfortably, but her fortune had come at a great cost—the death of her parents and her older brother, as well as her stalled music career. She would gladly give up everything, even her music, just to have her parents and older brother alive and well.
“Money is important to me.” He clasped her elbow. For once, the cynical look in his eyes vanished. “But family trumps it all. Remember that.”
The back of her neck tingled. Did he know of her plans? He only played the family-is-everything-to-me card when he wanted something or needed her to get him out of some sort of trouble. She took care of his mistakes for the sake of the family.
“The Landvik name is strong and will continue to grow.” She had worked hard to make her parents proud, even though they were no longer on this planet. The deal with Segal would cement their legacy.
“We’re on the same page, then. Good.” He rubbed the inside of her elbow before releasing her. She moved away from him, holding back from wiping off his affection.
The pinging of a text message from Konrad saved her from further discussion. Almost sighing in relief, she opened another door to the hallway to both of their offices and motioned for him to go ahead. “I’d better shower before it gets too late. I can’t have wet hair when I meet Miss Segal.”
“We should look our best today when we meet the young lady.” Verner’s smooth tone made the middle of her shoulders twitch in agitation. It was the same type of voice he used when mentioning women from other companies or vendors they worked with. If he thought he could flirt with or charm Kennedy, and she would fall for it, he would be in for quite the surprise. Knowing Kennedy would be immune to his charisma, she smiled.
“My goal is to impress Kennedy so much she’ll never want to leave Reykjavik.” Sending her uncle another cheeky grin, she left him, her concentration now on various ways to apologize for duping the beautiful American woman with whom she wanted much more from than just a polite business relationship.
***
“The last time you wore that suit, any man you came in contact with had their jaws to their knees.” Konrad spoke from outside Svana’s office bathroom.
She finished swiping her bottom lip with her red-velvet lipstick and rolled her lips together. Pleased by how good a job she did with her makeup, she smiled at her reflection and then faced her brother. “I thought I’d break out my orgasm suit for today.” She tapped her chin as she studied Konrad in a suit, and not his usual uniform of khakis or chinos and some boring button-down cotton white or gray shirt.
The charcoal tie hanging around his shoulders brought out the light-blue in his eyes. He’d also shaved, a surprise because he always sported stubble. Now if he spent more time outdoors instead of too many hours in the lab, and ate better or got some exercise to add some much-needed muscle to his angular frame, he would be inundated with offers for dates from women. Unfortunately, his passion for creating formulas for Landvik took time away from any possible romances or dating in general.
A blush broke out on his cheeks at her inspection. He took off his black rimmed glasses, reached inside his pants pocket then sighed. “I must have left my cloth for my lenses in my office.”
She stuck her head out the door to check their privacy then set her hands on his shoulders. At six two, Konrad usually towered over her, but her highest heels, added five inches to her height.
“There’s no reason for you to be nervous,” she said, squeezing his rigid shoulders.
“I’m n
ot nervous, just uncomfortable. Blame the tie I’m forced to wear.” He tugged on his shirt collar and swallowed hard enough to make the front of his throat bob.
Konrad had never been relaxed in social settings with large groups of people, but he held his own. He was most comfortable with one-on-one situations, and talked a blue streak about beer. He had also been trying to improve his social graces since he’d agreed to take over for her, regardless of the shakeup that might occur.
“Who said you had to wear a tie?” She unbuttoned the top button on his lemon-colored dress shirt and tossed his tie in the sink. She then ran her fingers through his hair to give him a more unkempt style.
“Hey, not the hair.” He stepped to the side to look in the mirror, combing his bangs off his forehead. “Don’t start on me about getting a haircut. You and Uncle Verner should be happy I shaved.”
She frowned at Verner’s name. “He suggested you wear the suit and tie?”
“Suggested?” Konrad arched an eyebrow. “He doesn’t suggest anything. More like ordered.” He rubbed his chin then grunted. “I’m not looking forward to his meltdown when he finds out you’re resigning, and my part in it.”
Konrad hid his vulnerability well, but she heard the slight tremble in his voice. He ran the laboratory and production floor with proficiency, refusing to take any shit from his subordinates. Verner had been critical of Konrad to the point of cruelty ever since their parents and older brother, Reif, had died. Their personalities clashed. Verner found it odd Konrad preferred reading and studying instead of playing sports or carousing when he was younger and made a point to say so over the next few decades. She protected her younger brother the best she could, glad she had decided to become his guardian at twenty-three and not accepting Verner’s offer to raise her brother. Konrad excelled in his studies, achieving a PhD in chemical engineering. Verner remained the same in his thinking and his actions, losing brain cells from too much drinking.