His Town

by Ellie Danes

  “Just two CEOs and two VPs discussing the future of our companies,” Michael grinned at me, finally pulling his hand away from mine.

  Fuck.

  I grumbled slightly just under my breath. If the meeting was between CEOs and VPs, then my VP, Jerome Pfieffer, was going to be here soon. As soon as I glanced behind me, I saw him. His stride was long and determined, and his annoying ferret face grinned at us as he approached.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” He patted both Ben and Michael on their shoulders, rather than shake their hands.

  “Good afternoon, Ian — my man.” He slung his arm around my shoulder, putting his weight on me as he looked on at the two Murphy men. I wanted to knock his arm off my shoulder. The guy was nearly twice my age, and ever since I'd gotten the position as CEO, I'd seen him going through the office acting like he was young, and hip — or whatever it was that he was doing — but everyone thought he looked nothing short of an idiot. And I could tell, by the blank, unblinking expressions on the men’s faces, that they felt the same.

  But it wasn't even that, that made me want to knock his arm off me. I couldn't care less if the guy was a geek. It was that he was suddenly acting like we'd always been best friends or something.

  He was fake.

  He was so fake I wanted to vomit, in fact. I hated how he always wanted to schmooze — with me, with the competition, with everyone. No matter how much he schmoozed or called people “his man,” the fact remained that he was full of shit.

  Jerome was a real prick. It had always been clear that he wasn’t thrilled to have me in the building — let alone in the CEO’s office. It was even clearer that he wanted my job. And hell, if it hadn’t been my father’s legacy, honestly, I would have been happy to throw it straight at his smug face. If for nothing else but to sit back and watch him fail. I would have been taken care of either way.

  “Have a seat, gentlemen.” He gestured toward the large conference table as he finally pulled his arm off my shoulder.

  I rolled my eyes and sat down at one side of the table and watched as the two Murphy men sat on the other side.

  Jerome sat next to me, and a strong smell of musk flooded into my nostrils. I must have been downwind from the air vent. I shifted in my seat, trying not to sneeze.

  “So what can we do for you, gentlemen?” Jerome leaned forward so that his elbows rested on the table, and his gaze was set directly on them. I leaned back, not really caring to join the conversation. As far as I was concerned, I was going to let Jerome take over. When Ben had called earlier, I had already said all that I needed to say.

  We had already covered this ground.

  I let Jerome talk business and go through scenario after scenario with them and “what-if” we dropped the case. But as far as I was concerned, the what-ifs could be shoved straight up their asses.

  Dad would likely have had the exact same sentiment, too. Hell, he’d said something similar once upon a time.

  I remember being in the kitchen of the penthouse suite that used to be his. He was standing there by himself as I rounded the corner, and I watched as he shifted nervously from foot to foot, his eyes avoiding mine.

  The vein in his forehead began to pulse as his teeth and jaw clenched. The pulsating became faster and faster, and incredibly irregular. I could tell he was pissed. I just didn’t know why.

  “Dad?” I’d asked, but he didn’t answer me. He didn’t even look at me. He just moved forward, his hands balled into fists, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  “Whisky,” he whispered. That was all he said. But damn, it was all he had to say for me to know that he’d meant business.

  “Those damn Murphys and their constant bullshit!” he growled, slinging the drink back. He didn’t even recoil. It was like the burn didn’t bother him at all. But then again, he’d probably been drinking at least one or two of those every day for as long as I could remember. I guessed he wouldn’t be fazed by it anymore.

  “What are they doing?” I asked.

  “Sit down,” he grumbled, his fingers tapping the edge of his glass.

  He’d been hunched over with a scowl plastered on his face. I remembered thinking he looked like he could play Scrooge in the Charles Dickens play.

  “I’m going to get right to the point,” he said, before taking another swig. “Your main squeeze joined the fucking Dark Side.”

  “Amelia?” I asked. “What?”

  “She decided to take the case as one of their lawyers. I’m sure that shitbag Michael had it up his sleeve as soon as he found out that you were sleeping with a lawyer.” He pulled at one of his bar stools and took a quick seat.

  “We’re more than sleeping together, though, I think.” I’d laughed—actually laughed—thinking that my relationship with her had been secure. “She wouldn’t do that.” I had thought there had to be some sort of ethics or conflict she’d acknowledge, but it didn’t happen.

  “She did. And if she didn’t, then she’s highly considering it.” He’d grabbed a second glass from off the counter and poured me a quick shot of a whiskey so strong that I didn’t even like it back then. Hell, now I drank it like iced tea. Just like he used to.

  I’d held the shot in my hand, not sure what to do with it.

  He’d pounded another shot. “They can shove it all up their asses! We’re going to get them in the end. Those fucking bloodsucking leeches.”

  Bloodsucking leeches, all of them. We’d get them in the end. Dad had said those words then, and they were still true today. I couldn’t let this meeting go on—bullshit pretense be damned.

  “We’re not dropping the case,” I said.

  Ben Murphy’s eyes bugged out of his head, and Jerome sighed. Michael Murphy shook his head slightly. Ignoring them all, I continued, “You stole the early blood imaging test for lung cancer, and my dad felt really strongly about not letting you get away with it. We own the patent and your device is based on his work.”

  I stood and buttoned the top button of my suit, waiting for them to do the same.

  “You came all this way for nothing,” I said. “My apologies.” Sometimes it killed me how fake I was at times, too, because I didn’t mean anything about apologies. I wasn’t sorry, not in the least.

  “No, my apologies!” old Murphy said as he stood. His face was red, and the blotchy redness was down around his neck, too. “But that is definitely not true!”

  I stood, keeping my arms and shoulders relaxed. I was watching the shit show about to unfold right in front of me, and I was trying everything in my power to make it look like I couldn’t care less. “What isn’t true?”

  His face was getting even redder. Tomato red, actually. Ben stood and placed a hand on his forearm to calm him, but it wasn’t working. “That early imaging test was mine all along,” Murphy said, “and it’s wrong to try to steal it from me now!”

  I grinned. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Isn’t that what everyone says?” Did he think I was just going to take his word for it? Over my old man’s?

  “Your smile and the fact that you’re doing this to me makes you almost as much of a dirty snake as your good-for-nothing dad was!” Old Murphy rounded the table and stood only a couple of inches away. He pointed his index finger at me, and he was only a half a second away from poking me in the chest. Jerome was watching from my side, an eager expression on his face. Sleazebag. He probably wanted punches to be thrown, because, in the aftermath of a war, he could emerge king.

  Ben stepped forward. He grabbed his father by the back of the suit and yanked him away from me.

  “Dad,” Ben warned, smoothing his dad’s suit where he had tugged on it. “We’re here to negotiate, not call names.” He leaned into his dad’s shoulder and hissed into his ear, “And definitely not blow up!”

  “If I see a spade, I call it a spade. If I see a liar, I call him a liar.” The old man huffed and straightened his suit. “But that isn’t why I came here.”

  “Again, gentlemen,” I
started, my voice firm. “I really am sorry. But the case stays open.”

  I looked to the right where Jerome still sat, his eyes wide, glancing over each of us — one by one, back and forth.

  “Well, I really hoped we’d be done with all this,” Ben said. “Especially with the other lawsuit—”

  My eyes snapped to look between the two men, and then back over to Jerome. “What other lawsuit?”

  Clearly, old man Murphy’s business practices weren’t as saintly as he tried to make it seem.

  “Oh, it’s a suit from a group of doctors who want to accuse us of providing faulty documentation on a new MRI machine,” Ben said.

  Murphy glared at his son and started for the door.

  “Both are threatening to send us into debt,” Ben continued, oblivious to his dad’s cues. Or maybe he didn’t care.

  Wow. I was sure Michael Murphy didn’t want us to know about his financial struggles, let alone that he was in the middle of another lawsuit. Without warning or farewell, Michael Murphy stormed out of the conference room, not even waiting for Ben to follow.

  And as soon as he was gone, Ben stood next to me, wide-eyed. “Uh, thank you, gentlemen. For your time.”

  He nodded in our general direction and we each faced him. Jerome made an effort to extend his hand, but it didn’t matter because Ben was already gone. Right on Michael’s heels, like a little lost, and very sorry, puppy.

  Chapter 6

  Ian

  My alarm sounded loudly in my ear, only this time, I was already awake. I had hardly slept all night. Yesterday had been just about the shittiest day of all shitty days, even though it started off in a spectacular way.

  After my meeting with the Murphys, I’d had to deal with phone call after phone call with my lawyer, their lawyer — and then I had to deal with Jerome.

  All Jerome had wanted to do was bitch, and complain, and bitch some more about how terrible of a job I was doing. He never missed a beat — or an opportunity to try and make me feel like shit. I had twice the paperwork, and I was behind all day because of that useless meeting. Which meant that I had to stay late.

  And that meant I got to bed late, which meant that I really hadn’t slept much.

  I used to be able to pull that off, but it was usually after a night of partying, heavy liquor and significant amounts of sex. None of which happened last night.

  All of that meant that my morning routine of a full dose of caffeine was even more necessary than ever. But even more than the coffee, I really hoped Kate would be there. There was something about her—that fiery red hair, that strong demeanor… I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was that drew me to her. But whatever it was, it was sexy.

  I hurried to get ready. I needed to get my ass to Starbucks.

  The entire car ride was filled with back and forth questioning on whether Kate would be there or not. I wondered why I cared so much. She was one woman, out of a city of millions of them. I wasn’t sure exactly what made her so special. At first, I wondered if it was the unknown, or maybe it was the challenge. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t given me a straight answer — that she seemed almost immune to the charm I thought I had. But I’d already been infatuated even before that.

  She was a mystery and distraction from what my life had become, and she was a reminder of what it once used to be.

  When I walked in and saw her sitting in the same seat as the day before, I immediately smiled. It was funny, really, how out of a crowded coffee shop, with a good thirty people in line crowding around her, my attention was automatically set on her.

  Like she was gravity and my eyes were falling directly into her.

  I grinned as I made my way through the crowd of people, my eyes plastered on her red hair and gorgeous fair skin.

  She hadn’t noticed me yet. It gave me a chance to watch her for a second as I approached. With every step I took, I was even happier that she had shown up.

  She wasn’t fiddling with her makeup, or messing with her nails, and she wasn’t texting a mile a minute. She was just sitting there, with her head facing the window, sipping her coffee.

  She was engaged. She was distracted. But it was with the world around her and not with technology. She was perfectly in the moment.

  When was the last time I could claim I had been “in the moment?”

  I pulled my coat off and sat down before she even noticed I was there. But when she did, she smiled instantly, as if she had been waiting on me. I felt good about that. It meant that the possibility existed where she had been thinking about me as much as I had been thinking about her.

  “So you said you just got out of a Master’s program,” I began, pretty lamely. I hated small talk. I wished I could have avoided it — but when I didn’t know someone, what the hell else was I supposed to say? “What career path are you hoping for?”

  “Well, my father always thought I’d go into my family’s business,” she said, running one pale finger along the edge of the table. “But that’s not how it all turned out.”

  “Oh?”

  “I decided to go my own way in life.” Her voice was so incredibly matter-of-fact. Like she had been rehearsing that line. I wondered why, until I heard her add, under her breath, “Much to my dad’s annoyance.”

  My brows rose. I knew what it was like to try to please an unpleasable man, and I knew what it was like to argue with him about the future — and disagree wholeheartedly about what he saw for me. I even knew the monotonous sound that resulted from repeating myself time and time again — which I’d had to do if I had any hope of knocking it far enough into his head so that he actually understood what was going to happen. Of course, I’d ended up almost exactly where he wanted me, in the end.

  “Anyway, I have a teaching job lined up on the west coast for the fall,” she continued.

  My eyes widened. That sounded impressive, and really fucking ambitious. I wouldn’t have pinned her for a teacher. But then I realized that was probably because I went to a prep school with all old-lady, stick-up-their-asses types of teachers. If I’d had a teacher who looked like Kate, I would’ve approached school with a very different attitude.

  “What made you want to pursue that career path?” I leaned forward, suddenly wanting to know everything I could about this woman.

  One thing I could tell was that she was smart. So smart that with every word she spoke, I felt myself becoming a little more drawn to her. I was far more interested in her than I had ever been in any other woman before. She seemed so kind — so completely genuine — and it paired nicely with her strong intellect.

  “My sister is my favorite person in the whole wide world,” she said with a besotted smile.

  “And she’s a teacher?” I couldn’t help but wonder if her sister was just as hot as she was. Then I told my dick-brain to shut up, because, with Kate, my real brain needed to be in charge.

  She laughed. “No, no.”

  She took a deep, exasperated breath. Almost like she was preparing for something incredibly long winded. And just as she was about to start, my phone’s alarm began to sound. Fuck.

  Her lips pursed, and she stopped speaking almost immediately. But instead of paying attention to my phone, I reached into my breast pocket and silenced it. Even though I had just put myself behind schedule, I didn’t care.

  “Sorry about that.” My hands made their way back to the table. “Go ahead.”

  “She’s a teenager, and she’s super brilliant, but she requires a bit of attention. She has a few learning disabilities,” she began. She seemed excited to talk about it — it was almost like no one had ever asked her the question before. “So when I found that out, and I saw the world just blindly walk by without ever really recognizing her issues, I wanted to do something about it.”

  I leaned forward again, making sure to listen to every word she said. It was odd, really. I wasn’t staring at her breasts, or trying to make a move on her. I was genuinely interested.

  She scowled for a seco
nd before saying, “My dad doesn’t believe in personality disorders. He doesn’t think anything is really wrong with her. He’s old school in his thinking. He thinks if you don’t do well, you try harder. Everything is black and white with him. There is no gray.”

  “Apparently, there’s fifty shades of it,” I muttered, with a smirk.

  She laughed, clearly amused, but I nodded. The way she spoke of her dad was something I could definitely relate to. As much as I’d loved him, my dad was honestly the same way.

  “And I’ve come to find a lot of people feel that way, so I want to go into teaching to help kids just like her understand that there are resources in place to help them and that they are different — but not in a bad way. I want to find a way to teach them so that they can function just as well as anyone else. I want to be the person for them who understands, even if their parents might not. In the end, special education just seemed to be that perfect resolution.”

  “I can’t believe how incredibly wise you are, and deep.” I was amazed. “I’m sorry I’m not a man of many words right now. You just really surprised me.”

  She grinned, and my mind took a picture of that smile. I wanted to remember that smile later. I hoped the conversation that continued after she talked about her sister would be something I would remember later as well. I was completely wrapped up in everything she told me. I was also wrapped up in her beauty and her quiet confidence. I was wrapped up in everything — I was wrapped up in her.

  I wasn’t sure how long it had been since we had first started talking, or when I’d silenced my phone, but at some point when my elbows found the table — the empty table — I realized that I hadn’t ordered coffee yet.

  Insane. Every day for months I had been relying on the caffeine to get going. But here I was, engaged, completely energized in a conversation. Without a single drop of coffee.

  It was like she had fueled me somehow.

  But I somehow doubted that it would get me through the day.

  “You know, I was supposed to buy that coffee for you,” I said, nodding at her cup and then jumping up from the table with a dramatic jolt. She laughed, which was exactly the reaction I was hoping for—and even though it was lame how much I enjoyed the sound, I would have done it over and over like a fucking court jester just to hear her laugh again.