Dirty Rich Obsession

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “I dated someone for a few years. He wanted more and I didn’t.”

  “Where’s he now?”

  “He met someone and fell in love, as he deserved.”

  “Often people want what they can’t have. How did you react?”

  “I went to his wedding. I was happy for him. He’s divorced now, Reid. So is my first ex. And I’m sure you know from your investigation that my mother left when I was five. I speak to her once every five years.”

  And my mother died miserably married to my father right up until the moment she died of a stroke five years ago.

  “Relationships are complicated, messy, and ugly,” Carrie adds, as if she’s just read my mind. “I don’t want any part of complicated, messy, and ugly.”

  “Then let’s keep it simple. Let’s go fuck.”

  “Not tonight,” she surprises me by say, and rather easily. Not never, but not tonight.

  I arch a brow. “Why not tonight?”

  “Because when we hate fuck, it’s not complicated, messy, or ugly. That’s when we keep everything focused on the sex. But tonight, I almost like you. That’s not good for either of us.”

  “So if I want to fuck you, I need to make sure you hate me.”

  She reaches up and touches my cheek. “Don’t. Don’t make me hate you again.”

  Damn it, I don’t want her to hate me. At least not now, and she’s right, that’s a problem for both of us. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” I slide out of the booth and take her hand, both of us forgetting our coffees. A minute later at most, we’re outside and I drape my arm over her shoulders. In silence, we complete the short walk to her building where I turn to her, my hands on her waist.

  “No fucking tonight,” I say.

  “Not tonight,” she confirms again.

  I cup her head. “I have to do this.” I kiss her then, a deep drugging kiss that has me hot and hard, and so damn into this woman that I don’t want to hate fuck, I don’t want that limit, and she’s right; that’s a problem, that’s trouble, the kind that has me tearing my lips from hers. “Goodnight, Carrie.” I drag my fingers over her lips, willing myself not to kiss her again before I turn and walk away. Before tonight gets complicated which always leads to messy and ugly.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Carrie

  When I wake in my bed alone, I feel regret. Why didn’t I just go home with Reid? We’re having sex. That’s all. I let myself conjure up some fantasy that there was more happening between us. I can’t be emotional. Reid is not emotional. The board does not want emotional. Reid will be in my life and out of it in a few short months. And the closer I am to him, the more I understand the man who controls my destiny. He most certainly is using all he knows about me, which is much more than I know about him, a man influencing my future. I need to be as smart as he is and enjoy the ride. I can do this. I am just as capable as he is, and he and the board need to know that.

  Therefore, I need to make a fearless statement and when I arrive to work I’m wearing a black skirt and an emerald green blouse. A blouse that matches the emerald green panties I’m wearing, which came in the box Reid delivered to my apartment last night. Obviously, he’ll know I’m either wearing those panties or taunting him with the fact that I saw them and chose not to wear them. I’m in control. I feel it right up until the moment that I realize that Reid isn’t even around to notice. He’s gone. I have no idea where and I don’t ask Connie for details or call him. Instead, I review all the proposals for growth that I was given by the staff, with disappointing results.

  Desperate to find a big deal I can slam dunk, I start making a list of every major investor I’ve ever dreamt of working with and then isolate the top two. It’s nearly three in the afternoon, and I’m sitting behind my desk, talking with Sallie about the research I’ve had her working on today when Reid barks over my intercom, “My office. Now.”

  I glance at Sallie. “I’ll be back.” I stand up and walk around my desk, charging toward Reid’s office, which is being guarded by Connie, who’s sitting behind her desk.

  “Hi, Carrie. Do you need Reid?”

  “I got this,” I say, walking right to his door and opening it, but not before I hear her laugh. I’m glad one of us is amused.

  I enter Reid’s office and shut the door. He’s behind his desk, looking like Mr. Arrogant Hotness in a gray suit with a blue pinstripe that matches his eyes and his tie. “Is it really necessary for you to continue to be an asshole to me? I thought we came to some sort of agreement last night.”

  “We did. I can’t fuck you unless you hate me. Did you really think that was motivation for me to start being the nice guy I’m not?”

  I walk toward him, placing his desk between us as I lean on the surface. “Stop being an asshole. We’re a team, remember?”

  “Are you wearing the green panties to match that blouse?”

  “Reid,” I say, “Sallie just heard you bark that command at me.”

  “Are you going to let her bring me cookies to put me in a good mood?” He stands up, presses his hands on the desk and leans toward me. “Because you sent me to bed with a hard-on, made me wake up with a hard-on, and then wore that fucking shirt to taunt me with what’s under your skirt. So until you come over here, lift your skirt and let me see your panties, I will remain a justified asshole.”

  I glare at him and then I don’t know what happens. I laugh. “Yes. I’m wearing the green panties.”

  His eyes warm and I swear the hard glint he’d fixed me in moments before fades into a mix of heat and mischief. “Come show me.”

  “Not here.”

  “Come over here and show me.”

  “No.”

  “Come over here and let me lick you under those panties.”

  “You’ll rip them. I like them.”

  “I promise not to rip them and I always keep my promises.” He softens his voice. “Come here, Carrie.” The low, raspy command turns my knees weak while my breasts are suddenly heavy, my nipples tight, aching nubs.

  “The door isn’t locked, and you need to work harder on the whole hate thing.”

  “Hate is overrated. Especially since I’m meeting with Grayson Bennett tonight.”

  I straighten. “The billionaire?”

  “That’s right,” he says, pushing off the desk. “He has money to burn and he hates Jean Claude Laurette, who you know I’ve working with. So I have to do some convincing. Which means that it’s going to take both of us to do this deal. He’s a relationship person. He wants to know the person he’ll work with long-term and that’s you.”

  “Can I go to the meeting tonight?”

  “Not yet. He has a problem with one of the board members that I have to get him past first.”

  “How do you get him past the problem board member if he’s a relationship guy?”

  “Do you really want that answer?”

  My stomach knots. “You’ll get rid of the board member one way or the other.”

  “Yes. I will.” His cellphone rings and he pulls it from his pocket, grimacing at the number. “Yes, Nicholas?”

  I know the name as one of the board members and I wonder if this is the one he plans to get rid of.

  “No,” Reid says. “We are not. We will not. Yes.” His jaw firms. “I’ll be there.” He rises and stands in profile to me and the desk, more stone than man for a few beats before he rounds the desk.

  I turn to face him as he steps in front of me. “I won’t hide the dirtiness of this job from you,” he says, returning to our prior conversation. “I’ll put you right in the pit of hell with me and with good reason. You have to get a stomach for this stuff or you won’t make it, Carrie.”

  “My father—”

  “Sheltered you in ways that I won’t. In ways that you can’t be sheltered and do this job.”

  “You’re saying my father would push out the board members?”

  “Yes, Carrie. He would. He’s taken these kinds of actions. He’s clearly got a s
ide you don’t know.”

  “He’s my father, Reid. I worked with him for ten years of my life.”

  “And?”

  “And I know him. He’s not you.”

  His eyes flash. “You mean he’s not a heartless asshole? You’re wrong. He is.”

  My jaw clenches. “You’re working on that hate again, Reid.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. If you hate me for it, then hate me.”

  “He’s taken these actions, but you beat him. In other words, you’re the devil he is not.”

  His lips thin. “I never claimed to be a saint, Carrie, but I’m not a liar. Your father was going down. I didn’t make that happen. That’s the truth. I need to go.” He starts for the door and I rotate to watch him leave, wanting to finish about ten things that we’ve started. I want to grab him and pull him back, but I refuse to stop him. He’s the one who stops.

  He rotates in my direction and before I know his intent, he’s back in front of me, pulling me to him, and his hand is on the back of my head. “If you hate me, then I can do this, right?” His mouth comes down on mine in a brutal, rough kiss that tastes of hunger and anger, even as his other hand cups my backside, and he pulls me hard against his erection. “You’re coming home with me tonight, even if I have to carry you there.” And with that, he kisses me again, and before I can even process what just happened, he heads for the door, opens it and leaves.

  I inhale, my entire body humming with a mix of anger, need, and confusion but I don’t linger. I’m on fire in more than one way, which for me, translates to a need for control, a need for action. I follow in Reid’s steps, and once I’m in the lobby area, I keep walking. I don’t look at Connie or Sallie. I have a purpose I don’t want interrupted. I enter my office and sit down behind my desk where I dial Royce Walker. “Problem?” he answers.

  “Yes,” I say this time. “Since I can’t hire you to investigate my father, can you refer me to someone who won’t screw me over?”

  He does that silent thing he does. “I’m not letting you go elsewhere when we can help. Let me—”

  “Talk to Reid. Never mind. I’ll handle it.”

  “We’ll help and I won’t charge you extra, but I have some confidentiality issues with Reid I need to work out. Give me twenty-four hours.”

  “Okay, but if you can’t work it out by then, I need a name, please. I don’t know where to start.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll be in touch.”

  We disconnect and my cellphone rings, and the number sets my heart racing. It’s Elijah. “Carrie West,” I answer.

  “Carrie,” he says jovially. “I’m in your area. Why don’t we have drinks and talk about money.”

  “I’m not ready to present yet.”

  “We’ll speak broadly about my investments and your role in the company versus that of Reid Maxwell.”

  Unease slides through me. “Okay. When and where?”

  He names a time and place and once I hang up, I dial Reid. He doesn’t answer, but he could be in the subway. We all take the subway when we’re in a hurry and he was in a hurry. “Call me, please. It’s urgent. Elijah wants to meet and if I don’t leave now, I won’t make the meeting. I feel like I need to go. Then I’ll know if he’s attacking and where he’s attacking from. Call me.” I hang up and head for the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Carrie

  I take the subway to my meeting with Elijah, which is at a popular bar near the courthouse. The minute I exit the tunnel, I check my messages and find nothing from Reid or anyone for that matter. I dial Reid again and end up with his voicemail again. “I really need you to call me back, Reid,” I say, ending the connection.

  “Damn it, Reid,” I murmur, but I remind myself that he has clients. He’s doing two jobs and once I’m the CEO of the company, there is no Reid to call for help. I don’t need help anyway. This is me making sure we aren’t getting sideswiped in some way. I don’t want Reid to think that I’m sneaking behind his back. I dial him again and when his voicemail picks up, I say just that. “I’m meeting Elijah. I don’t want you to think that I’m sneaking behind your back or breaking a promise. I want to find out what I can so he can’t come at you, which like you said, means me. And he said something about my father. I really need to know what he meant. Call me when you can.” I hang up.

  One block later, I enter the restaurant bar on the bottom floor of a building near the offices of Woodson Cable News Network, which Elijah recently took over after his father’s retirement. If I rein in Elijah, I always felt I’d get his father, too, but I’ve accepted that at least during this window where Reid sits at the helm, that won’t happen. The bar is dimly lit, clusters of tables here and there, snowflake-looking lights dangling from the ceiling. I don’t really understand the snowflakes as a year-round lighting option, but I guess it’s a way to remember this place.

  I scan the room to find Elijah sitting in a booth. He spots my approach and stands, greeting me warmly, but then, on our two prior encounters, he did that as well. He extends his hand, expensive cuff links adorning his pressed white shirt that he’s paired with a black suit. I accept it and we sit down across from each other. “You look beautiful as always,” he comments. “Though please don’t take offense. I, by all means, do not mean to downplay your skills, nor my own professionalism.”

  He’s not a handsome man; his features sharp, brown eyes hard, but he wears his age, which I know from my past research to be thirty-nine, with confidence and grace. “I’m not offended and thank you. I am, however, eager to understand why, after I’ve stalked you for years, you’re suddenly willing to do business with me.”

  “Timing is a big factor,” he says without hesitation. “I have a project I’ve been trying to bring together and the real estate investment firm I was dealing with is dragging their feet.”

  “What’s the project? Because I thought you wanted me to bring one to you.”

  “I’m open to you doing so, but in this case, I’m looking to develop world-class high-rises in China and Japan, both markets where we’re rapidly expanding. We’ll run our operation from the building and sell the rest of the space as residential. I’m talking about buildings with such large price tags that we will want to partner with a handful of wealthy investors to make it happen.”

  Asia. The location and the magnitude of the project do not sit well for me. It’s a cesspool of potential legal issues with red tape that can take years to cut through, while tying up financial resources.

  “That’s a big and exciting project,” I say because it is to most. “And as for the timing of this meeting, you mentioned my father, who of course, has manned many Asian projects.”

  “Correct.”

  Correct? That’s his response? “Why did my father leaving play a role in you coming to me?”

  “He wasn’t in the game anymore. I could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t hungry, but you are.”

  I reluctantly accept this assessment as reality though it feels like a half-truth. “You knew if you worked with him, you’d work with me. You could have asked for me.”

  “He was the decision maker and your father didn’t instill confidence in me.”

  “And now Reid’s in charge.”

  “Ah, yes. The elephant in the room. Reid is in charge, but he won’t be around for long.”

  He won’t be around for long. I don’t like this statement, which doesn’t feel matter of fact. It doesn’t feel like confidence in me, but rather confidence in Reid’s departure. I want to ask how he knows him, but that feels like a betrayal to Reid. I want to hear it from Reid. “He’s in charge now and that means I need to run all projects by him.”

  “Why? You take this to the board, and you take over. It’s pretty cut and dry.”

  “You clearly underestimate my loyalty to those who I’m close to and underestimate Reid’s power.”

  “You mean you’re afraid of him.”

  It’s at that moment that my phone beeps with a text mess
age. I grab my phone. “Excuse me,” I say, reading the message from Reid: Get your pretty little ass up and walk to the bathroom. NOW.

  I wet my lips and swallow. He’s pissed. He’s really pissed, and since he wouldn’t know where to find me without listening to my messages, he clearly doesn’t care that I tried to communicate. Actually, I never said where I was going. Now, I’m pissed. He’s having me followed.

  “Everything okay?” Elijah asks.

  “I have a little problem at the office. Can you give me a minute to make a call?”

  “Of course,” he says. “Can I order you a drink while you’re gone?”

  “No thanks,” I reply, slipping my purse over my shoulder. “I never drink and talk money, and that’s what we’re here for. Money.”

  Approval lights his eyes, though I can’t say I welcome his approval when I should. He alone represents enough money to ensure I keep the West family brand. “How about coffee?” he asks.

  “Coffee is fabulous,” I say, though I am certain Reid’s mood right now is not.

  Steeling myself for the confrontation the tone of the text message says is coming, I stand and head toward the bathroom sign behind the bar, the idea that I’m trying to create trust with Reid while he has me followed drives my anger and my steps. I enter a narrow hallway and turn right, only to have Reid grab me, and pull me to him. “What the fuck are you trying to pull?”

  “Check your messages and you’ll know, and really, Reid?” I grab his tie and tug hard. “You’re having me followed?”

  “I’m not having you followed, sweetheart. This was a set-up. The question is, were you a part of it or not?”

  My mind shoots to that comment Elijah made about Reid not being around long. I don’t ask questions. Not now, not yet. “Whatever this is, I’m with you. I’m not with them. I swear to you, Reid.”

  “You can prove that to me later when we’re alone. Right now, we’re walking out there together, and I’m going to introduce you to the stockholder that just tried to bully me into Elijah’s deal. Interesting timing, don’t you think? And he chose the location for the meeting.”