Stuck-Up Suit

by Vi Keeland

  “Looks like we’re sharing a meal with your friend.” I leaned into Graham.

  “Ignore her.”

  That was easier said than done. I felt her glare, even when I wasn’t sneaking peeks. For some reason, the woman was enjoying making me feel uncomfortable. She made no effort to speak to anyone else at the table.

  After dinner, I excused myself to go the ladies’ room. I closed myself in a stall and attempted to figure out the best way to go to the bathroom without dipping my expensive dress in toilet water, or touching the seat, or dropping my purse, or falling forward as I hovered in five-inch stilettos. I would have thought it was a much easier task.

  The restroom had been empty when I walked in. I heard the entrance door open, then close, and then the clickity clack of heels stopped somewhere in the vicinity of my stall. My intuition told me who was on the other side. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, and a flash of red immediately assaulted me. Avery was lining her lips in the mirror, but her gaze was set on me as I walked out.

  “If it isn’t Graham Morgan’s latest plaything.”

  “Is this how you get your kicks? Following women into the restroom to speak ill about their dates.”

  She rubbed her lips together to even out the fiery red color, blotted on a tissue, and then capped her lipstick. “I’m providing a service to womankind by warning women about that man.”

  “What’s the matter? You don’t like the way he conducts his business, so you need to warn me off?”

  Her mouth spread into a malicious smile. “Is that what he told you? That I simply don’t like the way he conducts his business?”

  Hating feeling like she knew something I didn’t, I said nothing. Instead, I washed my hands and took my own lipstick out. When I was all done, she was still standing there. I folded my arms over my chest. “Well get on with it. Tell me what you are dying to enlighten me with.”

  She took a few steps, stopping behind me to study my reflection in the mirror. Then she spoke directly into my eyes. “On second thought, you’re not worth my time. Eventually, you’ll figure it out on your own. Or maybe you can ask Graham why he is set on destroying my best friend’s husband’s company.”

  I took a minute to compose myself after Avery walked out. She was every bit as big of a bitch as when I called her that first day I found Graham’s phone on the train. I wanted to chalk her warning up to fierce competition between rival companies, but that didn’t sit right with me. It was personal for that woman in some way.

  Graham was waiting for me outside the bathroom. “Everything okay? I saw Avery follow you in.”

  “Fine.” I forced a smile. After a few steps, I decided I needed to know more. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Who is Avery’s best friend?”

  Graham raked a hand through his slicked back hair. “Her best friend is my ex, Genevieve.”

  CHAPTER 11

  GRAHAM

  SOMETHING HAD CHANGED AFTER SORAYA’S VISIT to the ladies’ room last night. Before that, she was being her usual sarcastic self—charming the pants off a sixty-year-old pharmaceutical researcher by being nothing other than who she is. After, though, she was quiet and withdrawn. When we arrived back at her apartment, she didn’t invite me in, and her kiss was missing the usual fire that burned between us. Afraid to push, I waited to see what would happen the next day. Nothing had happened. And here I was sitting in my office on Saturday afternoon staring at a pile of prospectuses. My concentration had gone to shit since that woman stormed into my life.

  I picked up my phone, then tossed it back on my desk. By three o’clock, I had repeated the motion twenty fucking times. Eventually, I grumbled to myself what a pussy I was and thumbed off a quick text.

  Graham: We survived the two events. Do we still have a deal?

  I stared at the damn phone until the dots started to jump around. My anxiety level grew as they started, then stopped, then started again. No thought was necessary to text back that our deal of exclusivity was sealed. What are you thinking, Soraya Venedetta?

  Soraya: Are you sure that’s what you want?

  There was no stopping as I texted my response.

  Graham: It’s what I’ve wanted since day one. These little tests were your idea.

  Soraya: I’m nervous.

  I hit call, rather than play a game of guess what you’re really thinking texting. She picked up on the first ring.

  “What did she say to you?”

  “Avery?”

  “Who else?”

  “I told you already.”

  “Tell me again. I’m missing something.”

  “I don’t remember her exact words.”

  “Tell me what you remember.”

  “Well. She basically stalked me while I peed. Then told me she was doing a service to womankind by warning me about you.”

  “Go on.”

  “There wasn’t much else. She said I wasn’t worth her time and that I would figure it out on my own eventually. Then she told me to ask you why you were set on destroying her best friend’s husband’s company.”

  “I had already told you about Liam and Genevieve. He’s a competitor.”

  She was quiet for a minute. “I googled you and Liam this morning.”

  Blowing out a deep breath, I leaned back into my chair. “And…”

  “There was a bunch of articles about how you are trying to do a hostile takeover of his company.”

  “That’s right.”

  “The articles all said you were overpaying market value by almost double. I don’t know much about business, but why would you do that? If it wasn’t to destroy a man because you still had feelings for the woman he stole from you? The woman whose name was tattooed on your body?”

  “That’s what this is about?”

  “I’m nervous, Graham. I feel like you could swallow me whole.”

  “I’ve been trying to.”

  “Yes, that, too. But you know what I mean.”

  “You’re afraid I’m going to hurt you?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “Liam’s company owns a twenty-three percent stake in Pembrooke Industries. Last year, I purchased twenty-eight percent in Pembrooke under a straw corporation to which I’m the sole shareholder. If I acquire Liam’s company, it comes with his shares in Pembrooke. That would give me fifty-one percent ownership and controlling interest. That interest is worth more than double Liam’s company alone. I’m after Pembrooke, not Liam. The analysts assume it’s because of a grudge since he was my former employee.”

  “So you aren’t still in love with Genevieve?”

  “No. And if you’re concerned, you could have come to me, Soraya.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just totally freaked out by what’s happening between us.”

  “As am I. But you know what I realized?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Freaked out or not, whatever it is that’s going on, it’s going to happen. Neither one of us has the ability to stop it. So why don’t you get your ass down here to my office and tell me you’re sorry for jumping to conclusions in person.”

  “Is that code for hop up on your desk, and we play boss secretary?”

  I groaned. “Get your ass down here.”

  She chuckled. I’m glad my constant suffering could, at least, be of amusement to her. “No can do, Morgan.”

  “Stop screwing with me, Soraya.”

  “I’m not. I actually can’t come there. I’m not home.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Helping Delia at a trade show. We’re a few hours upstate.”

  I muttered something inarticulate under my breath. “When will you be back?”

  “In the morning. The show doesn’t end until after dark, and Delia is dangerous enough driving in the light. Plus, she’ll pierce a hundred walk-ins today at the show, and be cross-eyed by the time it’s over. So we’re going to crash at the hotel across the street from the show.�
�

  “What will you be doing all day?”

  “Assisting. I swab the area before she pierces and hold hands with the chickens.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, but I asked anyway. “What will you be swabbing?”

  “The usual. Ears, noses, belly buttons, tongues, nipples, a penis or two.”

  “Come again?”

  “It’s clinical.”

  “Yes, that makes me feel better about you swabbing a man’s cock. I’m sure Delia has her M.D.”

  “Relax. It’s no big deal.”

  “Yes. You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Sure.” I partially covered the phone and yelled to my secretary, who wasn’t in today. “Elizabeth? Can you come in here a minute?”

  “Elizabeth? Is that your new secretary?”

  “Yes. I’m going to wash her tits.”

  Soraya chuckled. The woman damn laughed at me. Again.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’ve seen firsthand the way you treat secretaries. Pretty sure she wouldn’t let you wash her feet, much less her tits.”

  Sadly, she was probably right.

  “When will I see you?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Works for me. I have to go now. A big tatted guy just walked into Delia’s booth. They usually need hand holding the most.”

  “Wonderful. Now I’ll be picturing you swabbing some muscle head’s cock while he ogles your massive rack and gets hard.”

  “You have a pretty vivid imagination.”

  “Tomorrow. Soraya.”

  “Later, Suit.”

  A few minutes after we hung up, my phone buzzed with a text from her.

  Soraya: Yes, we have a deal.

  ***

  I NEEDED TO GET HER MIND OFF that shit with Avery, show her that there was nothing to be scared about when it came to me. Unable to concentrate on anything but seeing Soraya tonight, I left the office early which seemed to be the norm lately. If I didn’t own the company, I would have totally fired my ass.

  Back at my condo, I got to work chopping vegetables for the pasta primavera I was planning to make. I wasn’t a gourmet cook by any means, but I could make a damn good al dente pasta. I’d texted Soraya earlier to let her know there was a change of plans; I was cooking her dinner for us at my place. It felt like the right change of pace after the gala fiasco. I needed to let her into my space and show her more of my casual side.

  I’d just turned on the television that was built into the wall of my kitchen, selecting a show from the DVR list when the phone rang. Soraya calling. I grabbed a towel to wipe my hands before answering it.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “Hi…” She paused. “What is that music in the background?”

  “The television.”

  Shit.

  Frantically trying to lower the volume, I soon realized that the volume control wasn’t working. My coolness factor was about to plummet.

  “Was that the opening sequence to General Hospital?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Yes, it was.”

  Fuck. Caught in the act.

  I laughed guiltily. “Ok, it was. You got me.”

  “You watch soap operas?”

  “Only this one.”

  “And here I was thinking we didn’t have anything in common…”

  I cleared my throat and surrendered to the embarrassment. “You watch it, too?”

  “Actually, I used to…not as much anymore.”

  “I never really got into it until my mother became sick when I was in high school. She was obsessed with GH. When she was bed-ridden, I’d curl up next to her at three in the afternoon and keep her company while it was on. I ended up getting into some of the storylines and kept watching it after she passed. It reminds me of her.”

  She went quiet then said, “Graham…that is…wow…I…that is really precious.”

  Feeling suddenly emotional, I quickly changed the subject. “To what do I owe this phone call?”

  “I wanted to know if I could bring anything.”

  “Nothing but your beautiful ass, baby.”

  “Seriously. I want to bring something.”

  “I have it covered.”

  “Okay. Wine then.”

  Stubborn girl.

  “My driver will pick you up in an hour.”

  “Alright.”

  I paused for a moment then whispered her name, “Soraya…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I can’t fucking wait to see you.”

  ***

  SO IMMERSED IN SETTING UP OUR TABLE, I’d forgotten to let the doorman know to just send Soraya straight upstairs. When he rang to notify me of my visitor, I decided to mess with her a bit.

  “Please put Miss Venedetta on the phone,” I told him.

  She came on the line. “Yes?” My dick twitched at the sound of her voice. Soraya wasn’t even in front of me, but just knowing she was downstairs was making me hard.

  “How can I help you, Miss?”

  She giggled. “Is this General Hospital?”

  Little wiseass.

  “If you’ll play naughty nurse, it can be. Give him back the phone and get your ass up here.”

  When the doorman returned to the line, I instructed him to show Soraya to the elevators. Her knock was rhythmic and loud, and Blackie immediately started barking.

  I spoke to my dog as I walked to the door. “Yeah. Yeah. Just wait till you see her.”

  My heart started to pump faster the minute I opened it and caught sight of how breathtakingly beautiful she looked. Her hair was down but had a wild and wavy windblown look to it. The ends were still green, and she wore a matching emerald-colored blouse that was sleeveless but covered her entire neckline. There was a bow tied up at the top. Sleek black pants looked like they’d been painted on her legs. Overall, it was a teasingly conservative ensemble compared to her usual attire. Her normally bright red lips were also bare as if she knew I’d be eating them whole later.

  Fighting hard to restrain myself from mauling her, I begrudgingly placed my hands at my side. I vowed not to touch or kiss her yet, fearing that I wouldn’t be able to stop. So, I was going to hold back as long as I could. This night was about showing her she could trust me. Pouncing on her right out of the gate would negate that.

  “Come in.” I took in a long whiff of her floral scent as she entered the room.

  The dog immediately started to jump all over her.

  “Get off her, Blackie.”

  Looking amused, she handed me the bottle of wine she was carrying, bent down and lifted him up. Blackie was licking all over her face.

  Damn, I wanted in on that.

  Taking the dog from her, I cracked, “And you thought it would be me you’d need to pry off of you.”

  “You are being very good, Mr. Morgan.”

  “I’m trying,” I said sincerely.

  She covered her mouth. “Oh, my God! Blackie. It just hit me. From General Hospital! He’s named after that Blackie.”

  “That’s right.”

  She pointed at my face. “You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Because your ears are turning red!”

  Fuck.

  “I think it’s sweet, Graham, especially that the show reminds you of your mother. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about that. You have a way of turning me into mush, Venedetta.”

  “Good.” She grinned.

  Circling my palms together slowly, I said, “Since we’re on the subject. Let’s see how good your General Hospital knowledge is.”

  She flashed the cutest smile again as she accepted my challenge. “Lay it on me.”

  “There’s one more thing about me—a major identifier—that has a General Hospital connection.”

  “What do I get if I
guess it correctly?”

  “A special kiss from me later.”

  “Oh, yeah? A special one, huh?”

  “I’ll give you a hint.”

  “Alright.”

  “It rhymes with organ.”

  “Oh, that line again. Ok…Morgan….your last name.” A realization seemed to hit her. “That’s right! Oh my God. That name is from General Hospital, too!”

  “The last name connection is purely coincidental, of course, but the J of my middle name stands for Jason.”

  She nodded in understanding. “Jason Morgan…like the character!”

  “My mother thought it was brilliant.”

  “Your mother sounds like she was very clever.”

  “She was…clever, funny, bright, full of life…a lot like you, actually.” I walked over to the granite counter and opened the Sauvignon blanc she’d brought. Handing her a crystal glass, I said, “Can I show you around?”

  Sipping our wine, we toured the condo. Soraya particularly loved the electric fireplace in my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to fuck her right in front of it someday.

  We finally circled back around to the living room and stopped in front of the floor-to-ceiling length window overlooking the Manhattan skyline.

  She gazed out at the spectacular city lights. “I always dreamt of having a view like this.”

  Meanwhile, I was gazing at nothing but her. “This view is yours. You can come here anytime you want.”

  “I can come here, huh?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Oh, I know. You’re uncharacteristically polite and politically correct tonight. What’s gotten into you, Graham Jason Morgan?”

  “Do you not like me polite? I’m trying not to fuck anything up tonight. After what happened at the gala—”

  “You’re fine. You’re good just the way you are. I love how honest you always are with me about your thoughts and feelings.” She leaned in and gripped my wool sweater, causing my cock to swell. I felt myself unraveling very quickly as she continued, “In fact, I prefer blunt honesty to anything else. I always want you to tell me the truth, even if you’re afraid it might offend me. I don’t think you understand how much I just need the truth.”

  “I don’t think you understand how much I need you.” Now that her hands were on me, I was a goner. “And I’ll give you anything you need. You want the absolute truth?”