Sleeping With The Enemy

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Sleeping With The Enemy Page 3

by Parker, Ali


  “No, not that. I’ve been in talks with someone. I’m thinking about selling the company.”

  I did my best to hide my reaction. It was technically his company. He had picked up the pieces my father left behind and went through all the legalities to make it his. After I graduated from NYU, I had come home to help him run it. It was his business. Despite my statement to the contrary, I was his employee. “I see,” I said, trying to think of something supportive to say.

  “You don’t think I should,” he said.

  “No. I think you need to do what makes you happy. This business was never the thing that made you happy. You did it because it was the family business. You pulled it out of the hole and made it into something profitable. It has supported us both.”

  He looked at me, his green eyes troubled. “Do you think I should? Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me your honest opinion.”

  I smiled. “I think you should do what makes you happy,” I repeated. “I will support you no matter what you decide.”

  “What about you and Hayden?”

  “What about us?”

  “You just took her on. If I sell, you might be out of a job. I don’t know if they will keep you on.”

  I shrugged. “I can get a job anywhere else. I’m good at what I do. Philadelphia is a big city. There are plenty of companies and even rich guys that need a public-relations person. That’s me. Hell, they might even pay better.”

  He smiled. “Maybe. But then you would have to show up on time.”

  “What do you plan to do if and when you sell?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I’ve been doing this for so long, I never really thought about what else I wanted.”

  “But you know you don’t want this?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because it was Dad’s thing. It was never my thing. Or maybe it’s because it’s Dad’s thing and I want to sever those ties.”

  I nodded. Inside, I was torn. I knew legally it was Patrick’s business, but I felt like it was mine as well. It was the family thing. I had put a lot of time and energy into the business. There were a lot of good memories associated with it. Back in the good days before my father’s alcoholism dominated his life.

  I remembered being younger than Hayden and helping him sort through new shipments of antiques and artifacts. I remembered the smell and the excitement. It was a connection to the good part of my childhood.

  I didn’t want to let it go.

  Chapter 4

  Tyson

  I scanned through the latest findings from one of the digs going on in Egypt. I appreciated being one of the first people the benefactors thought of when they wanted to sell their items from whatever dig they were funding. Unfortunately, I saw nothing that piqued my interest. I quickly sent a personal email thanking them and declining the offer at the same time.

  I continued to filter through the emails requesting items and those offering to sell others. My job consisted of much the same thing. Day in and day out. Most people would be bored. I wasn’t. I loved the excitement of finding that one thing. I loved the history. I loved to daydream about the people that had owned or used the items.

  People told me I had been born in the wrong century. I didn’t believe that. I liked running water. I liked cleanliness. I liked cars and flying. Right century with a healthy fascination for history. And that fascination had paid off very well for me.

  “Lunch!” Alec called from his office down the hall.

  “You guys have phones!” my assistant shouted from her desk.

  I smirked at his unprofessionalism. Thankfully, my office was small. I didn’t need anything too big. Most of the work was me and Alec traveling. “Give me ten!” I hollered back.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. I liked that we could be relaxed at work. I didn’t necessarily have friends. Alec was my friend. Also, my employee and righthand man, but my friend as well. We didn’t spend a lot of time together outside of the office or on our trips to procure new items, but considering that was the bulk of my life, we spent a good deal of time together.

  “I’ll meet you there,” Alec said, popping his head through the open door.

  “Okay. Are you sure? We can ride together.”

  “I’ve got errands to run after lunch and I need to pick up my dry cleaning.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “You pick up your own dry cleaning?”

  He laughed. “Yes. I know, crazy. But unlike you, I haven’t quite gotten into the idea of casual Fridays every single day and I’m not going to wash my own suits.”

  I shrugged. “I only meant you don’t have someone that does that for you.”

  “No. I am that someone. It isn’t that hard. It’s like three blocks from here.”

  “Am I a snob?” I asked.

  “No, but you are wealthy, and you do live a lifestyle that most people are not accustomed to.”

  “But you are paid very well,” I stated.

  “Yes, I am, but really, it’s dry cleaning,” he said with a laugh. “You are really reading too much into this.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll see you there.”

  I did tend to get a little hung up on the little things. I wasn’t raised with money. I tried very hard not to act like new money and I tried even harder not to be an arrogant prick that flaunted my wealth. I could send myself into a tailspin by thinking too hard about nothing. I pushed it all aside, shut down my computer, and texted my driver to let him know I was ready to go to lunch.

  I took a bite of the BLT, my favorite sandwich. I quickly wiped the corner of my mouth and nodded as I listened to Alec talk. It was our usual lunch date where we caught up on what we had going on for the week. It wasn’t often we were in the same city. The same continent. It was nice to have a conversation with him face to face.

  “What was it you said you wanted to talk about?” I asked once we had gone over all the usual business.

  “I’ve been talking to a guy,” he started. “He’s the owner of a small antiquities business. It’s an old family business, nothing too big, but I’ve done some research and the catalog is extensive. Lots of little things and a few really great pieces that would mesh well with several of your collections.”

  I shrugged. “And?” He was holding something back.

  “He’s looking to merge with us,” he said, dropping the bombshell.

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “Tyson,” he said in a tone that meant he was about to lecture me.

  “No. I don’t want to merge. I don’t need to merge.”

  “Before you shut it down, think about the benefits. It’s a small company. It isn’t like you are going to be butting heads with some corporate bigwig. It’s small. It will be easy. No drama.”

  I took another bite. “I don’t want to.” Now I sounded like a petulant child. I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t one to filter my feelings. It was a waste of time to hold back how I felt.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, holding up a hand. “How about you just buy it out?”

  “What would that take?” I asked, liking the new option.

  “I’m not sure, but we can certainly do some negotiating. I can put it out there and see if he’s interested.”

  “I could get on board with that. Actually, I do like the idea. Do we have an inventory list?”

  “No, but if you were serious about buying the business, there would need to be a very thorough inventory completed. You don’t want to overpay. I would also recommend authenticating each and every piece. Plus, we will want to check the provenance. Some of the stuff was probably bought and sold before some of the newer antiquity laws were put into play, but we don’t want to get caught up in a legal nightmare.”

  I finished my sandwich. “It sounds like a good plan. Did he reach out to you or vice versa?”

  “I happened to be researching the competition when I stumbled upon the business. It’s very small and it’s almost like it is on purpose. Very little adver
tisement. Just kind of flying under the radar. I imagine they only deal with the same limited buyers.”

  “You’re saying they might have some hidden gems?” I asked, getting very excited.

  He chuckled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t know for sure, but we scour the world looking for places just like this. We are the pickers of the antiquity world. I think we might just find some things you really want.”

  “Okay. I’m sold. Who and where is this place? Do they have a storefront?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” he answered.

  I smiled. “I really like the sound of that.”

  He chuckled. “I thought you might.”

  “Then why would you suggest a merger? Why not just jump to the buyout?”

  He shrugged. “Because the deal was proposed as a merger. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.”

  “Will he go for it?”

  “I think he will. He proposed a merger, but I get the feeling he is more interested in just getting out of the business in general.”

  “Can you send me the information? I’d like to do some homework.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He slid it across the table. “That’s him.”

  I reached for it. “Have you met with him?”

  “Briefly. It was a quick coffee. I wasn’t interested in getting into a big thing with him if it wasn’t worth my time. I’ve had plenty of other little mom and pop shops reach out. They are always a huge waste of time. They parade their knockoffs and want me to pay them a million dollars. I wanted to look into this one a bit more. On the surface, I’m impressed.”

  I picked up the card with one hand, my soda in the other hand as I took a drink. I glanced at the card, a brief moment of confusion as my brain processed the name. I stared at it for several long seconds, the straw from my soda resting on my lips.

  “Who did you talk to?” I asked in a harsh voice.

  He looked thoughtful. “Paul. Peter. No, Patrick.”

  “You spoke with Patrick Kendell?”

  “Yes. Why? Do you know him?”

  I put the card down. “No. Not anymore.”

  Memories flooded me. So many memories. Good, bad, and everything in between. I stuffed the card inside my back pocket before taking a last drink of the soda.

  “I need to get back to the office,” Alec announced. “I’ve got some calls to make. Will you be heading back?”

  I shook my head. “No. I need to do a few things first.”

  “Do you want me to look into that place? Put together a proposal?”

  “Yes, please,” I said. “Find out everything you can.”

  “I will. I’ll have something put together by the end of the week.”

  He paused, not getting up. I waited to see what else he needed to say. He was looking at me funny. “What’s up? What else?”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Nothing. I’ll see you sometime at the office.”

  He left and I followed shortly after. I got into the waiting car and gave my driver the address of Kendell’s offices. I had to see it. I had never forgotten the Kendells, but I had moved on. I had tried to forget but that was impossible. That was like trying to forget how to breathe.

  It had been a long time, but it was like yesterday in many ways. The car pulled to a stop next to the curb. I stared out the window. The faded decal on the window was the same one that had been there forever. I had a lot of questions. I wondered what had happened to the elder Kendell. The building was old, and the businesses dotting the street were just as old. Sadly, there were plenty of shuttered businesses as well. Time marched on. Family businesses went under or sold out to the corporate world.

  I was a little surprised to know they were thinking about selling. Did they know it was me they were selling to? I kept my name out of the public, choosing to hide behind the company name and Alec. Most people thought he was the owner. I didn’t mind. I liked the anonymity. I liked being able to be a guest, visiting museums and shops with most people never knowing who I was.

  There was a knock on the window. I looked up through the tinted glass and sucked in a breath. Holy shit. Mae Kendell. She was standing inches from me. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to do. She knocked on the window again. I pushed the button to roll it down, staring into the gorgeous green eyes that had haunted my dreams for years.

  She was looking at me, staring directly at me. I was trying to think of what I would say. It had been so long. Was she mad at me?

  “Why is your big-ass car blocking my office?” she asked.

  I blinked. She was acting like she didn’t recognize me. Didn’t she? Did she really not know who I was? The thought was saddening and sobering. Here I thought I was an important part of the Kendell-family history. She didn’t even remember me. That was a kick to the gut.

  Chapter 5

  Mae

  Parking was at a premium on the crowded street and the yahoo sitting in his limo and staring at nothing didn’t belong. I was forced to do a shitty parallel parking job because of the giant car in the way. Now, the man was staring at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was crazy. It probably wasn’t the best idea to go around pounding on the car windows of strangers. Not in this day and age.

  “Well?” I asked when he continued to stare at me instead of answering my very legitimate question.

  He made a move to open the door. I took a step back, ready to kick the door shut if I felt threatened. Hell, I would kick him if I felt threatened. He was still staring at me. He stood, his full height towering over me.

  I frowned at him. “You do speak English, right?”

  “Mae?” he said.

  I took a full step back. Now I was on guard. “Who are you?” I snapped.

  “Mae,” he said again. “Mae Kendell.”

  He was going to serve me papers. My parents had somehow managed to retain a high-powered attorney and he thought he could show up at my work and intimidate me. The guy had another thing coming. Although his outfit was rather relaxed for an attorney. I reasoned he could be the muscle for the attorney. I would not be intimidated. I was going to fight for Hayden.

  “What do you want?” I snapped. “I will call the police if I feel the least bit threatened or harassed.”

  The man smiled and my heart did a funny little pitter-patter. It couldn’t be. There was no way. My eyes roamed over the very large man in front of me.

  “Mae, it’s me, Tyson. Tyson Helms.”

  “Tyson?” I breathed his name. He was so different, so manly. He wasn’t the young guy I knew. He wasn’t Patrick’s best friend that used to tease me incessantly.

  He stepped forward, his big arms going around me as he hugged me close. I didn’t know how to react and went with instinct and hugged him back. It was a little weird to be hugging him. If someone would have told me this morning when I woke up that I would be hugging Tyson Helms that day, I would have laughed in their face.

  He released me and took a step back, looking me up and down. I was suddenly very glad I had worn one of the new skirts I had bought during our shopping spree with Hayden.

  “You’ve grown up!” he exclaimed.

  I laughed. “That happens. You’ve changed a lot too.” I didn’t give him the specific details of those changes. He was a man. I couldn’t get my head around the idea. I was staring at the bicep with ink. The sleeve of his shirt hid the artwork. I was intrigued.

  “Is your dad running this place now?” he asked.

  “No. Patrick. And me, kind of.” I was nervous. I was acting like the teen girl with a crush on her big brother’s best friend.

  “Is he here?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Oh,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He looked just as uncomfortable as I was.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  He blinked. “I came to see Patrick.”

  “Oh,” I said, unable to hide the disappoint
ment I had no right to feel.

  He didn’t move. He was staring at me just as hard as I was staring at him. There was an awkwardness that was undeniable. We were both adults and the past was long gone. There was no reason for us to be weird around each other. “Would you like to grab some coffee?” I blurted out.

  The same sexy smile that I remembered from our younger years spread over his face. I stared into the blue eyes that were so light, they were almost translucent. The bushy black brows and the long black eyelashes served to highlight his perfect eyes. His black hair was cut short with a little flip in the front, giving him a boyish look.

  “I would love to,” he answered after a long pause.

  “Great.”

  “We can take my car,” he offered.

  I looked at the luxury ride and figured I might as well. “Thanks. There is a place not far from here.”

  He gestured for me to get in. I climbed in, scooting to the other side. He got in and told the driver to find the nearest coffee shop. “You look good,” he commented.

  I felt the blush spreading over my cheeks. “Thanks. You too.” I turned and looked out the window, feeling like a complete idiot.

  The car pulled to a stop a few minutes later. I suddenly felt completely ridiculous. “I feel like we are a little over-the-top,” I said with a laugh. “Do you always take a limo to grab coffee?”

  He grinned. “Yes.”

  The driver opened the door for me, which made me feel even more ridiculous. I climbed out of the car and thanked him before practically running around to the front. I had to work in the neighborhood. I didn’t want to be one of those obnoxious people that backed up traffic because my limo was double-parked.

  Tyson opened the door to the coffee shop for me. “After you.”

  “Thank you.”

  I got in line with Tyson beside me. We both ordered lattes, which he insisted he pay for. I found a small table for us near the back of the shop. I looked at him over the cup, taking in the chiseled jaw and the broad shoulders. I couldn’t believe how much he had changed over the last fifteen years.

 

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