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Redemption Part Two

Page 5

by Kate Benson


  His palm smacks my ass hard enough to pull a yelp from me before he bends to give me a deep kiss, his free hand landing on my breast as he gives my nipple a sharp pinch. He cages me in, my back hitting the wall behind him as his lips run down my throat while his hands roam over me with abandon, his fingers ravaging me through the thin fabric of my blouse. His hips graze my belly just enough for me to feel how hard he is, pulling his name from my chest in a needy whimper. My mind is reeling, my heart racing by the time I hear the ding that signals our arrival. He pulls away, one hand still gripping onto the bar behind me to keep my knees from giving out as I pant up at him, my thighs rubbing together in need. He releases a low hum, pulling my eyes to find him straightening his tie, seemingly unaffected otherwise.

  “Miss Baxter,” he smirks.

  “Mr. Avery,” I breathe, the hitch of my voice making him chuckle darkly as he shoots me an inconspicuous wink and steps out.

  “Have a nice day.”

  “You, too,” I manage, steadying myself before I attempt to exit the elevator and head toward my desk.

  “Oh, Miss Baxter?” he calls out, the soft, husky voice I’ve grown so used to immediately replaced with that of Adam Avery, CEO.

  “Yes?”

  “Be in my office in fifteen minutes,” he commands, glancing down at his phone for a moment before looking back at me. “Don’t be late.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I agree quickly, the formality making his eyes twinkle slightly before he pulls his phone to his ear and heads for his office.

  Thirteen minutes later, I’m standing at his office door, my nerves spiking when I tap gently on the frame.

  “Come in.”

  His deep voice offers me some comfort, but I’m still on edge as I push through and find him sitting behind his desk, scouring over something on his laptop.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes,” he nods, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Have a seat.”

  I do as he asks and as my legs touch the leather, I’m reminded of how vastly different things had been the first time Adam beckoned me to his office. I’ve not been in here many times since, but each experience between that one and this have been glaringly different.

  For the first time since, I’m nervous about being alone with Adam.

  His attention stays locked on the screen, his finger slowly sliding over the mousepad every so often the only sound coming from his side of the desk for far too long. My palms begin to sweat and I’m nearing the point of screaming when his eyes flit up to mine.

  “You seem nervous.”

  “I am,” I admit immediately as I clear my throat.

  “Why?” he asks, leaning back into his seat, finally giving me his attention.

  “I don’t know,” I say quietly, the quirk of his eyebrow making me stifle an eye roll. “I’m not lying!” I insist. “But I am curious. You never call me in here and make me sit across from you like this. Am I in trouble for something?”

  “Why would you automatically assume you’re in trouble?” he asks, stroking his jaw as his eyes narrow slightly. “Are you the person who so aggressively broke my twenty-thousand-dollar photocopier?”

  “What? No!” I insist, pulling a light chuckle from him. “Did somebody really do that?”

  “It was a joke, but yes,” he smirks. “Calm down. You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

  “Oh,” I reply dumbly, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Okay, what about?”

  “Your job,” he says immediately, leaning back into his seat. “You know I’ve been acclimating myself with your department since my arrival?” he begins, pulling a nod from me. “You’ve been with the company for four years now, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very good,” he says calmly, his eyes still trained on me. “Why don’t you walk me through your typical day here, Isabella?”

  “All of it?”

  “Start to finish, kitten.”

  “Okay,” I shrug. “Well, I almost always spend the first hour or so returning emails and going over Sabrina’s schedule for the day. As you know, she’s in charge of new clients and discovery, so if there’s a potential on the list or someone she’s scheduled to meet with, I’ll spend the next few hours researching.”

  “Researching how? What types of things do you look into?”

  “Mostly their numbers and success rates with previous campaigns, turnaround for us, things like that. Once I’ve done that, she asks that I submit a detailed report to her as well as an overview of what we’re able to offer them and if she feels like they’re a good prospect, I begin preparing a proposal and the initial steps of each campaign. Depending on how much they want and their relationship with the company, I’ll also work on projections and pitches for upcoming presentations.”

  “And how many hours per day would you say you spend doing things like that?”

  “I’m really not sure,” I answer honestly. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say at least five? Maybe six?”

  His expression goes stoic for a moment as he strokes his jaw before he glances down at a stack of paperwork, handing me the file on top.

  “Are you familiar with this project?”

  I take a quick look, recognizing the work immediately as my own and give him a nod.

  “Yes,” I begin. “Yes, this was for the Milgon Grove account. I worked with Sabrina on this a few months back. There were a few discrepancies with rebranding, but once we were able to work through those, they signed on and the turnaround was quick. Avery accrued an additional seventeen percent for stockholders from this project alone.”

  “That’s pretty substantial for such an account. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asks, reaching for another file as I nod. “How about this one?”

  “Jackson Beckett. He wanted a sizable loan for a digital campaign with his new branch. It went well, although it was a little more challenging than previous projects we’d done with them.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, the Beckett family started the company I think close to eighty years ago, so their money isn’t the only thing that’s old, if you know what I mean,” I start, my eyes growing wide in suggestion making him smirk. “Anyway, they weren’t convinced digital marketing was right for them because they worried it would have a negative impact on the personal relationships they’d developed with their existing client base. We nearly lost the contract due to Jackson’s hesitance, but came up with a mockup for the presentation that quite frankly, blew the other candidates out of the water and made it impossible for them to go with anyone else.”

  “Whose idea was the mockup?”

  His eyes bore into mine across the desk.

  I think I have an idea of where he’s going with his questions, but I’ve never been one to take all the credit and run. Maybe that’s why I’ve been stuck in the same position here for four years, maybe not. However, taking away from the hard work coming from the rest of my department seems wrong, so I’m hesitant.

  “It was a group decis-”

  He sees right through my lie.

  “Isabella,” he cuts me off, his voice full of authority that has my belly tingling.

  “Mine,” I relent almost immediately. “It was my idea.”

  “I thought so,” he nods, glancing back down. “Did you do the projections?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I nod, my nerves flaring.

  While I’m absolutely certain this isn’t the first time Adam’s looked at my work, I know it’s the first time he’s done it with me sitting in his office. I can’t help the mini-breakdown coursing through my chest as I pull my thumbnail up to my lips and begin biting on the edge of it.

  “Don’t bite your nails, darling,” he says as he jots something down, my hand instantly moving to my lap
until he hands me another small stack of papers. “What about this one?”

  “Horizon Brokers Association,” I say immediately. “We closed on this a few days ago. It was a smaller project, one Sabrina had asked me to spearhead while she was scouting another investor.”

  “Do you remember the outcome?” he asks, looking up from his notes.

  “No, she didn’t say,” I shake my head. “But I saw they scheduled a follow-up next month, so I have to assume it went well.”

  “It did,” he nods, giving me a small, but genuine smile. “Thank you, Isabella. That will be all for right now.”

  “Okay,” I say, returning his smile, my nerves not settling in the slightest as I move to stand.

  I turn to let myself out and can feel his eyes on me as I reach for the door.

  “You’ve impressed me with your work,” he offers, reviving the butterflies in my chest and pulling my eyes to his. “You should be proud.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replies, his wink sending the butterflies lower this time. “Send Sabrina in on your way out, please.”

  Fuck.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Sabrina is gone for no more than twenty minutes, but when she returns, I can tell she’s furious. She refuses to meet my eyes and immediately, I begin to panic slightly.

  Over the last four years, my work and ability to keep my mouth shut has always been my saving grace with that woman. The way she slams her office door behind her tells me those days are dead and gone.

  “Minchia…”

  “How fast can you read?” he asks, clearing his throat.

  “I’m sorry?” I ask, my cheeks blazing as I turn to find him swallowing a smirk.

  “We’re leaving for a meeting in ten minutes with a potential investor,” he says, handing me another file. “They’re scouting companies and are interested in obtaining a sizable loan for rebranding purposes. I’ve already informed Sabrina you’ll be joining us.”

  “That explains her delightful mood,” I murmur sarcastically, scanning the pages. “This all seems fairly cut and dry. I think I can read through the preliminaries pretty quickly.”

  “Perfect,” he nods. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Eight

  ADAM

  Save for Sabrina’s sideways glances and the lack of both wine and sexual tension, the meeting this afternoon very closely resembles the one we’d had with Drake Mitchell the night I first took Isabella.

  When the handshakes are out of the way and the rest of the room begins dispersing, I turn to find them both gathering their things in awkward silence.

  “Before you leave for lunch I’d like a word with you both,” I say, pulling their eyes to mine as I gesture for them to resume their seats. “Mrs. Michaels, were you able to locate the report I asked for?”

  “Not yet, sir,” she shakes her head. “It’s in my office. I should be able to get it to you within the hour.”

  “Understood,” I nod, glancing down at the very report in question, one she’d turned in only a few days earlier. “Miss Baxter, are you familiar with the Horizon Brokers account?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you remember what the increase was as well as the yield?”

  “At last glance, we were up nine percent with a yield of fourteen,” she says easily. “I expect it will continue to build stamina through tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s exactly right,” I offer, gesturing for the book she’s holding. “Is that the agenda you keep for Mrs. Michaels?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she nods.

  “May I see it, please?” She hands it to me immediately and as I thumb through the pages, I can feel the tension building from across the table. “Sabrina, you’ve been with the company for quite a while, haven’t you?”

  “Close to ten years, Mr. Avery.”

  “Hmm…” I sigh, glancing down at the work Isabella had put into this book alone before I hand it back to her, facing them both. “Alright, I’m going to make this very quick and painless on both of you. I’ve been reviewing your work and seen some inconsistencies on both ends. Despite the fact we were able to obtain this account, I’m not pleased,” I admit, watching them both swallow hard. “Miss Baxter, this morning I asked you about a variety of projects and after less than half the time Mrs. Michaels has been in Avery’s employ, you were able to give me in-depth information regarding each client I asked you about. Can you tell me the singular commonality between these accounts?”

  She looks up at me, biting her lip in thought before finally giving me a subtle shake of her head.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, but unless you’re referring to their success rate, I’m not sure.”

  “True, but there’s another slightly more concerning issue which is that each account we discussed had your supervisors name on it,” I say, glancing toward Sabrina as I lift the thick stack of papers. “And I would bet a large chunk of my fortune, Mrs. Michaels, that you’d be unable to recall the majority of what I’m holding in my hand right now.” I drop the stack onto the table, the heavy thud making them both jump. “Your lack of preparation and complacence in your position here could have very well lost the company a vital account. Fortunately, Miss Baxter, your assistant, was here to save our asses,” I continue, glancing down at the stack of reports. “For the umpteenth time if this is any indication of your history here.”

  “Mr. Avery, I…”

  “My uncle thought very highly of you before having to step down. It’s because of that and that alone you’re being given the courtesy of me personally warning you of the very thin ice you’re currently skating on, Mrs. Michaels. For the time being, I’ll be overseeing your department myself until I can be assured all our bases are covered appropriately,” I cut her off, moving my gaze to Isabella’s finding her blue eyes wide in silent shock. “As for you, Miss Baxter, I’m very pleased with the initiative you’ve taken. If you can continue to work as diligently as you have been and don’t find yourself acquiring the same complacence as Mrs. Michaels, you’ll have a prosperous future here. That being said, while I’m very impressed with the level of professionalism you’ve brought forth up until now, part of your responsibilities as one of my corporate level employees is to notify the board of any discrepancies in spending and performance. If you weren’t comfortable coming to one of us, you should have spoken with HR regarding Mrs. Michaels’ lack of work ethic. The fact that you failed to do so is unacceptable and won’t be tolerated again. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she says meekly as she gives me a subtle nod. “It won’t happen again.”

  “That question was for both of you,” I insist, staring back at Sabrina.

  She squares her shoulders, clearing her throat before finally giving me a curt nod. “Understood.”

  “Very well,” I reply, my tone clipped as I turn to leave them.

  I’m nearly to the door when Sabrina’s voice slows my steps.

  “Pardon my boldness, Mr. Avery, but my ethics are the last thing that should be in question here,” Sabrina says, her voice shaky despite her blunt words. “I’ve been very good to this company.”

  “And this company has been exceedingly good to you,” I insist immediately. “We’ve seen you through multiple leaves, both medical and personal. We’ve awarded your daughter with a scholarship that helped her go on and earn a teaching degree and you’ve repaid those generosities by half-assing your job for the past four years,” I counter. “Now, if you’d like to continue this discussion while you clear out your office, you’re more than welcome to do so. Otherwise, we’re done here,” I say sharply before returning my gaze to Isabella. “Before you leave, come to my office. I have an assignment I need to discuss with you.”

  I move to walk away, but a huff from Bella’s right pulls my eyes back.

 
“I’m sure that’s not all you’ll be discussing,” Sabrina mutters, making Isabella’s cheeks flare. She has no idea I’m still listening and the harsh pitch in her tone makes that clear. “Congratulations. I think it’s obvious you’ve really outdone yours-”

  “What’s that, Mrs. Michaels?”

  “Nothing, sir,” she shakes her head, diverting her eyes from mine.

  “Are you sure?” I offer, raising my eyebrow in challenge.

  “Yes…”

  “If you need a week or two away from the office to reflect on a few things while Miss Baxter takes control of your accounts, that can certainly be arranged,” I threaten. “If you’re to be believed, she’s one good private meeting away from stealing your job anyway, so I’m sure she won’t mind the pay increase.”

  “Mr. Avery, I can assure you I didn’t-”

  “Know I was listening?” I cut her off once more. “Perhaps if you spent more time completing your own reports and less time conjuring up excuses for why you’re currently sitting on the top of my shit list, you wouldn’t have landed there in the first place, Mrs. Michaels.”

  “I’m sorry, I-”

  “Are you apologizing to me or to the woman you just tried to discredit and insult in the middle of my conference room?”

  “Both of you.”

  “Duly noted,” I nod, tapping the table. “Should you change your mind about that time off, my door is always open.”

  She swallows hard, glancing between me and Isabella for a moment before finally clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders.

  “That won’t be necessary,” she says quietly. “Thank you.”

  “Very well. Enjoy your lunch,” I smile before moving toward the door. “Isabella? My office in ten, please.”

  Chapter Nine

  ISABELLA

  The next few days prove to be more than a little awkward working alongside Sabrina instead of taking her orders. While the added responsibility Adam had given me offered more time with him at the office, a heap of stress came right along with it. Fortunately, Friday has finally arrived and my long week is dwindling down to just a few more hours.

 

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