“Please call me Mason,” Mason interrupted, saving me from myself.
“Mason, then, I’m not an accountant. I can look for behavioral insights and emotional responses to words and actions, but if you want me to look at the numbers, maybe your chief financial officer should be here with us.”
Nicely saved.
“There’s a reason why I didn’t ask Scott to join us.” Mason got up, poured us both water, hunted around for coasters before rejoining me. I held my face blank. Regulated my breathing. Had Scott already said something?
“About a year ago, my two key executives got into a public spat.” Mason spoke slowly, picking each word deliberately.
“It came to my attention that one of my executives was part owner in a questionable activity, but it seems that the media and public don’t seem to care. While ever his involvement isn’t at the detriment to Softli I have to let it go.”
“So, you don’t want me to look into Darius Patera?” I’d read the media clippings since getting the contract. The press had been wild, and not unflattering. Tech companies weren’t known for sex appeal, but photos of the dark, rich CIO and blonde CEO looking decidedly pissed had gone viral. Scott’s photo had escaped the media attention, but only because his charm was beneath his clothes. It was in the way he looked at a woman, listened to her.
Looked at me, listened to me.
Baited me until he’d driven me to the brink of insanity.
“Actually, it’s my other executive I want you to look out for. You’ve met Scott Alexander a few times now, what did you think?”
Oh shit! My second chance at coming clean and I was about to fail. Spectacularly and deliberately, fail.
“He seems incredibly hard-working and loyal.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The way he acted so protectively about you and Softli and his team when we met at lunch.” Which at least was true. “I got the distinct feeling that he owes you a debt of gratitude, and certainly respects you enough to allow me into the company despite his own reservations.”
“About those reservations, I don’t know how much of that is because he resents anyone coming in and looking over his work—” Mason continued pacing and I couldn’t read his mind. “Ms.Rush, I can count on your discretion, can’t I?”
“Of course—my former client should have told you my reputation is built on discretion.”
“Scott Alexander loves to gamble. Apparently, he used to be a successful card player, but I understand he spent six months losing significant bundles of cash, several times a week.”
Third chance and I was about to let it pass me by.
“I want you to look into Scott’s personal and professional integrity. It almost breaks my heart to even ask, but I need someone who has your skills, someone to look into the man, not only the balance sheet and tell me what I need to know.”
“Which is?” My heart sank.
“Can I trust the man? Or is he siphoning off corporate funds to pay for his losses?”
Straight
Scott
I knew the minute Carlynn Rush received her security pass.
I knew five minutes after she graced Mason’s office. The grey knit suit seemed a little severe for tech geek casual, but she rocked the nude silk blouse and matching heels. Long fucking legs.
I hadn’t been able to see if the black nail polish from yesterday had been replaced. But the day was still young.
“Want me to get you a coffee, boss?” Layla asked. Mason’s phone was alight, bastard had probably sent Miss Carlynn on her way. Either Carlynn would head here, or for coffee.
“I need to clear my head for a couple of minutes. Heading downstairs, do you want me to pick you up one?”
“Wow, someone had a good weekend. Short black with one of their lemon slices.”
“I offered coffee.”
“I want something as sweet as your attitude.”
“Be back in five, ten at the tops.”
Shit. I needed to avoid Layla until she forgot about my good mood. Next thing, she’d either start asking questions or throwing out banter style suggestions. One hint of a woman and she’d be in for the kill.
Or I could just find my own prey. At the back of the coffee line. Her hair pulled into a messy bun, head bowed and concentrating on her phone.
Damn, she had a fuckable ass.
“How’d the meeting with Mason go?”
I casually stood behind GG in the line, trying to remember she went by Carlynn in the office. Were either of her names real?
“Fine, just some final briefing instructions.” She didn’t acknowledge my presence. Not a glance, not even a twitch of her fingers towards their home—in my hand.
“Anything I should know about?”
To hell with personal space, I moved to the side, forcing her to look at me.
“What?”
“Did Mason say anything I should know about.”
Did I imagine her eyes glaze over—maybe she just didn’t want our chemistry to be obvious to anyone else. “I mean, do you need anything else from my team.”
“No, please excuse me.”
I’d joined the wrong line. GG took her coffee and almost knocked over one of the young graduates in her hurry to leave the coffee shop, leaving me to still place my order.
She could have waited.
We could have chatted about the weather, the football, anything.
Or, she could scamper off like a frightened rabbit. Because of me, or because of something Mason said?
It had to be because of the weekend. I’d seen GG under pressure at the table. Most men would crumble under the pressure she called home.
“Sir, your order?”
The cashier was more patient than I deserved.
I needed my coffee, Layla deserved her coffee and just for good measure, I ordered an extra one for Mason. I needed to make amends with the boss—put him at ease before the board meeting and make sure I didn’t end up on the receiving end of an ambush.
Sometimes, I got what I deserved, when the two tech geniuses decided to gang up on me. Other times, I reminded them that the man who held the purse-strings, held the power.
Still, making good with Mason before a board meeting was always a good idea, and cost little more than charm and a coffee. It wouldn’t be the first time Darius and Mason worked together behind the scenes, not that Mason was malicious. More that Darius could talk geek and knew that Mason could get caught up in the excitement of the next big cutting-edge idea.
No matter what the cost.
Half my bloody problems were because of the tech over spends and the sales guys promises. No one understood the pressure I was under every month trying to keep the competing forces at bay.
A lesser chief financial officer would have crumbled.
I had been and still was the best in the business, I stewed while waiting for the three different types of milk to be frothed for my order. If Mason didn’t start appreciating me, I’d find another company that would. Probably not in Australia, after all anyone could buy tax experts with local knowledge. It was my strategic insights and ability to read a story within the numbers that set me apart.
I’d made Mason and Softli a fortune large enough to start a war.
I’d personally invested in enough good stocks at the right time to buy a small country. Not liquid cash but that would only be a matter of timing my exit. Finding people to buy me out at the right price.
“Have a good day, Mr. Alexander.”
“Thanks.”
How the hell did she know my name? I balanced the three coffees still trying to figure out why today, of all days, did the sweet AF cashier decide to know my name. It had to be the weekend glow. An almost perfect weekend in bed or playing cards. If I’d been able to scurry away for half a day for a rock-climb, it would have been perfect.
Risk my life on the rocks.
Risk my wallet on the cards.
Risk my—no. GG and I were a long
way from putting hearts or emotions on the line.
Then why does it feel like you lost?
“Thanks, boss,” Layla called after I dropped off her coffee. Not even skipping a beat before I backtracked to the CEO’s office.
“Mason!” I’d already donated my coffee to Chloe before walking into Mason’s office, unannounced.
“Morning, what’s the saying about beware of CFOs bringing coffee?”
“Consider it a peace offering. I ran into that consultant downstairs.” I didn’t trust myself to say her name, either of them.
With equal parts love and desire.
One weekend. Proved what I’d already suspected.
She was perfect for me.
We were perfect for each other.
The woman was funny, intelligent and could fuck like a wild cat!
Stop it!
“She seemed a little defensive when I saw her in the coffee line.”
“So, make your peace offering to her.”
“I will, but first I should stop being a prick about you bringing her in. I’ve been bleating about the debt book for months and it’s about time I accept how you want to deal with it.”
“It’s not personal.”
“I know that, now.”
“I need the sales guys to bring in new business.”
“It’s my job to make sure that new business turns a profit.” Which is what I’d been trying to say for months, if anyone had bothered to listen.
“That’s why I pay you the big dollars—unless you’re looking for an increase?”
Wow—that came out of nowhere. I’d handed over most of my bonus and a good portion of my salary as punishment for the crap that went down with Darius. The share-market had smacked us hard and somehow the first thing Darius and I had ever agreed on was splitting the blame. We took our punishment the only way markets understood, by publicly accepting the internally imposed fine.
“I’m never going to knock back a more generous offer, but this isn’t the right time to increase executive bonuses,” I cautioned in case Mason was about to make similar offers all around. “Let’s table the idea for six months and see if we can get the debt book under control as an organization—then use any additional profit as rewards.”
“Are you sure, I mean, you took a hit with the whole fall out.”
“The hit to my ego hurt more than my wallet. I’ve done well, outside Softli.” Better than Mason probably knew, I smiled easily. My generous Softli salary had become my gambling play money. I could lose it all and it wouldn’t make a dent. Yes, there’d be a temporary cashflow situation, but nothing that I’d lose sleep over. Which was why I could play cards with so much confidence.
“As long as you’re sure.”
“Mate, I appreciate your patience as Darius and I worked through our issues, but I promise you, we’re fine. Softli is our priority and neither of us will put you in the position of having to referee our personal shit again.”
“Carlynn isn’t your enemy. I want you to reach out and give her full access to whatever she needs.”
“Absolutely, boss.” I tried to hide my enthusiasm in delivering on Mason’s instruction. “I’ll text her now and start mending those bridges.”
Scott: C, my office. S
Hopefully, she’d know I was inviting Carlynn—although if GG turned up, I wouldn’t say no.
Ten minutes later, I had my answer.
“Mr. Alexander?” Carlynn appeared at my office door. Her smile professional and her eyes exactly the way a consultant on their first day would appear. Confident, arrogant, about to save the fucking world, one billable minute at a time. “Your secretary appears to be missing.”
“Layla’s pulling together some more reports for you—the latest set of quotes that the sales team have sent out.”
“Why?”
“Because I figured that some of the answers might be in how we pitch. I mean, yes, we want the business, but are we making it clear enough that we expect to get paid?”
“Mr. Alexander!” Carlynn shut the office door, but it was GG who closed the blinds and pulled her hair up into the ponytail I loved. “Are you sure the only thing you want is new business?”
“You misunderstood me.” Willing to play her game, I added, “I want new business that makes Softli money.”
“Is that all you want?”
“What do you think I’m missing?”
“It’s been almost twelve hours.”
“So?”
“Do you want me?” Her voice did messed up things to my gut. I mean, it was her tone, the way it seeped through my veins until it was the only thing I felt, only thing I craved. “Scott, in any of those twelve hours, did you miss me?”
The only thing sexier than GG or Carlynn, was the two of them merged into one.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” I checked my office door was locked before yanking Carlynn into my arms and continuing the conversation from Katoomba.
No soft kisses.
None of the gentle crap that suggested we had hours, days, years together.
We both knew whatever we had; the clock was ticking. There was an expiration date. She made a living by telling assholes like me how to do our job. I hated money-hungry, bottom-feeding consultants more than I hated paying taxes.
She’d write the report.
Mason would think it was fucking sunshine on steroids.
I’d take offense and tell Mason what he could do with his job and tell Carlynn where to go.
Our future had been written in the stars before we’d even met.
“You missed me?” She teased, stroking her ponytail until the waves became softer, straighter. “It hasn’t even been one day.”
“I’ve lived too many years without you, I don’t want to waste one more minute.”
I shoved her across the room, until her beautiful ass sank into my visitor’s couch.
“Mr. Alexander!”
“Miss Rush.”
The formalities out of the way, I grabbed her skirt by the hem, barely waiting for her to raise her hips before pushing it up, out of the way.
I wanted to see whether she’d dressed with me in mind.
Yes.
Red, soft, lycra panties. Covering her pussy and her cheeks. Demanding I push them aside or rip them off.
Decisions, decisions.
Rip.
If she’d wanted to keep them on, she should have worn white cotton. Then again, nothing would have stopped me, other than one word.
“Yes?” I’d already spread her knees and the fragrance of her answer was gonna make this couch my favorite place to chill.
“Scott, please.”
It was all the answer I needed. We didn’t have time for long conversations or walks in the park. The only foreplay was a smattering of kisses from the inside of her knee until I could taste her.
Beautiful, sexy juices coated my tongue as I plunged deep and hard. No time for flowers and serenades. My primal and only need was to make my vixen purr. I fought between wanting to hear her scream my name, and the fear of having to explain—why she’d been screaming my name.
“Scott, we can’t—” she cried. Only when I stopped to look up, she pushed my face back to where it belonged, “Don’t you dare stop!”
I fought her hand, leaning up long enough to kiss her soft inner thighs, “We don’t have long, so lie back and take it like a woman.”
“Then shut up and give it to me like a man,” she purred, wrapping her legs around my neck, trapping me in place.
Oh, she tasted like honey and responded so deliciously. Her purrs, her fingernails clawed at my scalp. The fact we were in here, while the world was outside doing normal, ordinary crap.
“Mr. Alexander, the papers you wanted are on my desk,” Layla called through the locked door.
“You’d better answer her,” Carlynn whispered before calling out, “You better give me everything I asked for, or my next stop is Mason Winters.”
“Bitch,” my
tone might as well have said, I love you. I mean, this woman was one hot breath away from cuming on my couch, but she could use real words and sentences?
“Mason told me to give you everything you want, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do!” I called out for the benefit of the office.
“I think he wants you to make me happy.” Carlynn pulled at my hair until we met, lips to lips. Our first kiss since—well, our last kiss.
“I read the fucking contract. Your job is to make me happy.”
“At least your division!”
“Babe, I’ve missed you,” I moaned. Soft enough that Layla couldn’t hear—or at least pretend ignorance. “Consider this an appetizer, but I want the main meal tonight.”
“I’m playing cards tonight.”
“Take the night off.”
“Give me a reason.”
I savored one more kiss before diving back down and giving it to her.
By the time we opened the office door, poor Layla was more concerned about what Mason would think about the argument than questioning the locked office door.
“Mr. Winters would like the two of you to join him and Mr. Patera for lunch.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Winters didn’t say.”
“How many people heard the argument?” I asked softly as Carlynn stormed off leaving a trail of vacant threats.
“You haven’t hidden your feelings about Ms.Rush, and I think Mr. Winters wants to make sure that you are all on the same page.”
“We are but how long do we have before lunch?”
“Three hours—shall I confirm?”
“Do I have a choice?” I shrugged. Darius was a complication I could live without, but he was going to meet GG eventually. At least if it was over lunch, I could try not to be the blind and dumb asshole that ended up being bailed out of jail, again. If GG so much as looked at Darius with soft or hooded eyes, I’d cut her from all areas of my life.
Once was enough.
Any woman who wanted a man like Darius was welcome to him—but I wasn’t going to stick around and watch it happen. Not again.
Reckless Gamble: a billionaire high stakes suspense romance (City Sinners Book 4) Page 13