So, I’m not afraid of Liam.
I’m scared of the idea of an ‘us’.
Letting him in will cause me to either fuck it up because of who I am at my core, or to overcompensate and obsess until whatever’s good between us dies a fiery death. Because of me.
Or I’ll be in so deep that I won’t be able to let him go.
No matter what, I’m coming clean tomorrow.
There’s no us.
There can’t be.
10
Vanessa
My mother’s assistant sets up our next meeting a couple of days later at the Wainwright Plaza hotel, a few blocks from our office. It feels like a field trip, being able to leave my desk and still be considered ‘on the job.’ At the last minute though, Mom decides that she’ll join the meeting after all. I’m prepped and am sure I can handle any questions that arise, but it’s her prerogative.
Her firm, her whims.
Whatever.
She had previous offsite meetings today, so I agree to meet the three of them in the banquet hall that Sharon reserved for our use. Liam and Craig are right on time. I find them handing over Liam’s car keys to one of the valet drivers outside as I arrive.
“Good to see you again, Vanessa.” Craig greets me with a broad smile and gives me a vigorous handshake.
“Likewise,” I reply as Liam puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a kiss on one cheek. “Hi, Liam. Shall we go in? Diane should already be here.”
“Sure, babe.”
Babe. Really?
Craig heads in through those snazzy new multi-person revolving doors that are the trend at airports and large high-traffic buildings. Liam guides me in next, with a supportive hand on the small of my back.
I flick a gaze back at him as we walk through it. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
A one-sided smirk lifts up his face. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Smug, sexy bastard.
By the time we announce ourselves at reception, Mom hurries in from another part of the hotel.
“Right on time, gentlemen.” She looks over at me but doesn’t address me, other than with a scrutinizing glance. “I was able to connect with Marty Pelham, Wainwright Plaza’s Senior VP of Operations earlier. He’s in town for a couple of days. As over sixty percent of their properties are on the west coast, he doesn’t make it to New York often. Craig, would you mind if Marty joins us for part of our time today so you can meet him?”
“Not at all. It beats scheduling a separate trip to see him out west.”
“Great. Follow me.” She leads us through the lobby, heels clicking on the well polishes marble floors until we pass through a hotel staff only door and get to a narrow hallway and section of offices. A well-dressed man in his mid-fifties is waiting at one of the doorways, a smartphone at his ear until he sees us.
After the round of introductions, we’re seated in a small break room.
“The documentation is in order from a bird’s eye view, gentlemen,” Mom starts. “Both representing law firms will ensure the deep dive into the details are satisfactory to both parties. The timing is right, for both sides—”
“Which is why we should let our legal minds earn their keep so we can spend some of this time getting acquainted with the facilities. Starting with right here,” Mr. Pelham finishes her sentence, locking eyes with her.
“And that makes much more sense, as your legal minds are in the process of closing a secret deal out in Nevada. Isn’t that right, Marty?”
He flashes an icy smile. “Something like that. Though it’s not quite a secret anymore.” He turns to Craig. “We just brought the Daranaw Live Media into the Wainwright family. Out west, live entertainment is as much a staple as taxis and shuttles are here in the Big Apple. Took us a few months longer than planned to finalize the deal, so it’s a good day for everyone involved.”
“Congratulations.”
“Naturally, there are some synergies to be had between Daranaw and O’Sullivan Entertainment now that they’re officially coming on board, but we’ll leave those intricacies to the men and women we pay handsomely to take care of them. Isn’t that right, Diane?”
Mr. Pelham slides a thick folder across the table to Mom, who nods stiffly and flips through a few pages.
“That’s right.” She passes the file to me. “And we absolutely will.”
“Excellent.” Mr. Pelham pushes his chair back and stands. “Let’s get started on the tour. We should go over the big picture deal points over lunch, Craig. How about the Mezzanine Bistro? It’s one of the assets in our agreement.”
Mom waves them off. “You gentlemen go on ahead. Vanessa and I will catch up with you.” Once Craig, Liam, and Mr. Pelham are safely out of earshot, she points at the file. “This is the first we’re seeing of their Daranaw contracts and financials. Get those documents back to the office and tell the costing team to drop whatever they’re working on. This is their only priority assignment for the next hour. I want to know impacts to the O’Sullivan file before this tour’s finished. Meet me back here as soon as they’re done.”
“Will do.” I pack up the files, and she rushes off to join them. As I make it out of the staff area, Liam calls out to me from across the lobby.
“Skipping the tour?” he asks, stepping up beside me.
“You too, I see.”
“This is Craig’s baby. I’m here for the intricacies, as Marty put it. Meaning I’d like to get a look at the file he gave you.”
“No problem at all.”
“Great.” He keeps pace with me outside on the sidewalk.
“I can send a copy to you by email if you’d like.”
“A hard copy today would be great,” Liam continues. “The Wainwright Plaza executives haven’t been entirely forthcoming.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Your mother’s reaction to the file didn’t get past me. That, and Pelham’s mention of synergies between Daranaw and O’Sullivan Entertainment. He might as well have shouted that the original deal is off. I’ll go back to the office with you.”
“You’re way smarter than you let on,” I admit, flicking a glance over at him.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
It takes us ten minutes to arrive at my office building, and another ten to have Sharon to make copies while I relay Mom’s instructions to the costing team. They’re used to shifting priorities on a moment’s notice, so Mom’s questions are well in hand. Liam asks for somewhere to go over the materials, so I show him to an available boardroom and return to my office to scan a copy of the documents myself. Less than twenty minutes later, Liam taps on my open door.
“This new contract can turn out to be a deal-breaker.”
“Have a seat. I’m almost done.”
“Disclosures should have been made to my uncle. There’s a huge overlap in the asset breakdown.”
“It’ll be sorted out.”
“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure of it.” He steps into the tiny space, pulling the door closed before pressing both palms on my desk. “Do you realize how hard it is for me to focus when you do that?”
I look up at him briefly and return my focus to the file. “Do what?”
He comes around the table, leaning against it with one hip at an angle so he can face me as he cups my chin. “When you bite down on one side of your bottom lip, like you’re doing now. I’m hard as fuck just picturing that mouth wrapped around my cock.”
“There’s no time for that,” I tell him, although I’m just as aroused, especially now that we’re alone behind closed doors, and his erection is less than two feet from my mouth.
He takes my hand and slides it up his thigh, stopping just below his bulge. “Make time.”
Pulling my hand away, I continue reading. “I’m busy, remember? Trying to protect your uncle’s interests.”
“They’re probably all having lunch by now.” With a firm grip on the back of my swivel chair, he
pulls me and the piece of furniture between his legs. “I know exactly how I want to spend my lunch break.”
I open my mouth to resist, but he unbuttons his suit jacket at the waist and untucks his shirt. Christ. My body betrays me with a moan that leaves my throat before I can stop it.
“Tell me you’re not wet as fuck right now and I’ll leave you alone.”
“I’m not wet as fuck right now,” I repeat, but my voice cracks and squeaks through the blatant lie.
He flips the file folder closed with a decisive slap of finality. “Prove it.”
“What are we, five?”
“No. I’m hard, and you’re wet, and we both have an itch that needs scratching.” He takes both hands and pulls me out of the chair. “You know what we’ve never tried?”
“What?”
His hands reach around to squeeze my ass cheeks through my business suit slacks, which are really the only reason I’m not as enthusiastic about an office quickie. It’ll take forever to get these clothes off, although I’m already very tempted.
He smirks. “It starts with ‘sex’ and ends with ‘in your office’.”
I roll my eyes as Liam switches places with me. He sits in my chair and tugs on my waistband. “We’re wasting time, sexy. I could have had you twice by now. Once with my mouth. And another with… I’ll show you.”
He clocks the slight smile rising up on my face, and that’s all the permission he needs. With deft fingers, he undoes the buttons of my waistband and drags my slacks down past my knees. His fingers slip under the seam of my panties, shoving the crotch to one side just as his lips collide with my mound. Fuck, anyone can knock on my door any minute now, but I don’t care anymore. He runs his tongue along the edges of my folds, stopping at my sensitive spot, and a second later, two thick fingers sink deep into my wet, aching pussy.
I want to spread my legs and wrap them around him, but these pants are bundled between my knees and my ankles, limiting my movements. Liam devours me with his mouth and fucks me hard with his fingers. Soon I’m a shaking bundle of nerves with one hand gripping his hair and the other cupped over my mouth to quiet my sounds of pure pleasure as he takes me to my first orgasm.
Like the waves of ecstasy still crashing through my core, the muted gasps for breath beneath my hand don’t quite subside, and he makes his next move. Liam turns me around, quickly bending me over my desk. The sounds of a slackened belt, an undone button, and an opening zipper mesh together with his brisk movements. With his hands on my hips and the tip of his cock hard against my folds, he buries into me so fast and so deeply that I see stars behind my closed eyes.
I don’t think he’s ever fucked me this hard before, and maybe it’s the setting. We’ve never had sex outside of either of our places, with the risk of being caught looming on the other side of my office door, and with the knowledge that we both have to get back to a meeting that feels so far away and unimportant right now.
Then Liam starts to lose control. He moves a hand up to the back of my neck. He anchors the fingers of his other hand into the flesh of my hips as he says the three words that he knows my body can never ignore.
“Come for me.”
I do.
And he follows me there.
My desk phone rings only minutes later. We’ve barely put ourselves back together and caught our breaths, but I take the call from the costing analysis team lead.
“It’s ready,” I tell Liam after hanging up. “Time to go.”
“Hang on.” He reaches into his pocket for his phone and checks the screen. “It’s Craig. Marty had to take care of other business, and your mother got called to another meeting. It looks like I didn’t need to rush driving my woman insane.” He plants the softest kiss on my lips and heads to the door. “See you soon, sexy.”
An off-site meeting.
New information that can be a deal-breaker.
An urgent task to make sense of it.
Wild sex in my broom closet of an office.
I lean back in my swivel chair and smile with satisfaction. If these are some of the new perks of my fake love affair with Liam, I’ll fucking take it. There’s only one problem I can see on the horizon. We’re supposed to be in a very temporary fake relationship. So why is it starting to feel real? And why does every second with him take my breath away?
11
Vanessa
“Are they expecting us?” Dahlia looks back at the three of us from her spot outside Lovely in Lace, the bridal boutique where we’re supposed to be fitted, and to pick out bridesmaids dresses.
“Of course. I set it up with Frederica myself.” I look back at my convertible and unlock the doors with the remote. “I’ll get my phone and try her, but we should give it a few minutes as we’re ten minutes early.”
“When do they open?” Emily stands beside Dahlia, leaning on the thick concrete banister of the brownstone.
“We’re the first appointment today.”
“On a Saturday?” Cherry asks from the bottom of the steps. “In June? They must not be hard up for customers to be opening this late in prime wedding season.”
“They aren’t.”
As I grab my purse from the cup holder and stand to lock the car again, I see Rosa rushing up the street.
“Sorry, I’m late. My coffee habit waits for no one.” She holds up her cup in one hand, and a tray with four others. “Coffee?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I’m the closest, so I snag the one that has ‘D/R Black’ written in chalk on the lid.
“Drink up, ladies. We may all need it.” Rosa looks over at me with a timid, hesitant expression on her face. “Especially you, Vanessa.”
“Me? Why? Don’t get me wrong. I love my caffeine, but why would I—”
Before I can finish my question, she sticks her phone in my face, screen facing me. “Sorry I had to be the one to bring you news like this.”
I pull back from the phone to focus my vision on what’s on the screen. “What? No. That…that can’t be.”
There’s an article on the New York Portal Online in the Life and Society section that reads ‘Most Eligible Incu-Billionaire Bachelor Coming Off The Market?’ My head tilts to one side to see if I’m reading it right, and I hone in on what’s below the headline. Jesus, it’s a picture of Liam with his arm around my waist as we leave the Wainwright Plaza. They must have taken it after the meeting with my mother, Craig, and Marty Pelham.
“Wait. That’s me. But… I don’t remember anyone with a camera. Oh my freaking God.”
I grab her phone for a closer look and almost drop my cup of coffee as Cherry, Dahlia, and Emily practically vault down the steps for a look. We’re cramped around a tiny screen but manage to gather the high points. Apparently, I’m officially dating Liam, according to this article. Suddenly I don’t feel so well.
That’s when the door to Lovely in Lace opens, and Frederica steps out on the landing. “Good morning, ladies. Welcome to Lovely in Lace! Come on in, girls. My team’s all ready to help you pick out your bridesmaids’ dresses. Hi, Dahlia. You look so beautiful.”
Everyone files inside past my old friend from college as she prattles on. I take a little extra time because my legs feel like rubber. Frederica reaches out for a hug when I’m close enough. “Congrats, Vanessa! I saw the Huff Post. You and Liam O’Sullivan, that’s awesome! Just remember me when it’s time to pick out the wedding dress.” My face has probably already turned a shade of green because she stops her insistent prattling and looks closely at me. “Honey, are you all right? You don’t look so well.”
“I’m…fine.”
“You don’t look fine. Come inside. I’ll have one of the girls make you some green tea.”
“Wait, did you just say Huff Post?”
She pushes the front door closed behind us and nods non-stop. “Yes! Isn’t is exciting?”
“But I just saw it on the New York Portal.”
“Right. That’s where I saw it first, but one of my staff has been following L
iam on all the online news and social media sites since the story broke about his Top Forty under Forty award.” She lifts her hand to her mouth, covering one side in a secretive gesture. “That’s kind of how we source some of our top clients. In this business, the gossip rags are our friends. But yes, the piece on you and Liam is everywhere. Well, she hasn’t seen it in print yet, but give it time.”
“I think I need to sit down.”
“But, you don’t look pleased at all. Hang on. It’s not a rumor, is it? Wait, when did you find out about the articles?”
“Two minutes ago, outside your store.”
“Good God. Is it even true?”
Finding the nearest antique buttonback chair in the place, I slump into the soft cushion and lean my head back to try and control the nausea. The timing couldn’t be worse to get this news. I’m vividly aware that today is not my day. We’re here for Dahlia’s wedding, and I’m probably ruining it with this drama. Frederica excuses herself to find me something less harsh than coffee to drink. I have to be careful with the answers I give her, which is why I kept my mouth shut at her question about whether the article was accurate. I’m not ready to take a public stance on this fake relationship, but the media wants to back me into a corner.
No one from any of the media sites contacted me for official word, or even a comment. And I didn’t see one from Liam either. They all mention that details came from a source close to the family. Now I’m curious, on the defensive.
A source close to the family.
What source? Who leaked it?
My head starts to spin as I begin to obsess about who might be the culprit. The picture in the article was from that day at the Wainwright Plaza. Someone who knew we’d be there could be the source. Or maybe the paparazzi stalk that hotel all the time, and figured out who Liam was after the fact.
Cherry returns to the foyer. “Sorry I left you. Are you okay?”
The Billionaire and the Bad Girl Page 5