Risk: Part 1 (The Vault)

by Nina Levine

  “Here,” she says, passing me the milk from the fridge.

  Our hands brush as I take it from her, sparking desire through me. Our eyes meet, and I know she’s felt the same thing. But then, this isn’t something new. I’m certain we’ve both felt it from the first night we met. I believe it’s the reason why she tried to avoid taking this job. And fuck, now I’m wondering again why I hired her.

  My gaze drops to her lips and then her breasts.

  Fuck, Owen, get a fucking grip. She’s a staff member now. You can’t ogle her at work. Hell, you can’t ogle her full stop.

  I shift my attention back to the coffee and take a step away from her, intent on putting some distance between us and these feelings. I finish making our drinks before lifting my gaze again. “You ready to be blown away?”

  She rolls her eyes as she takes the mug I offer her. “Calm down. The only one of us who is going to be blown away is you when you drink my coffee.”

  I arch my brows. “I see you have the trait that all good analysts share.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “You’re overly confident.”

  “Pfft, it’s easy to be confident when you know you’re right.”

  I try not to smile. “Drink up, woman.” Fuck, there I go again. I can’t call an employee, woman. It’s a good thing I’m assigning her to work with Trent, because by the looks of it, I can’t be trusted around her.

  She takes a sip, and I see the surprise in her eyes, but she doesn’t give me anything else to go on. Stubborn too, I see. After the fourth sip, she caves. “Okay, so you weren’t kidding when you said you made good coffee. I’m actually just going to call it now—you win. Not even my coffee can stand up to this.”

  I grin. “And here I was thinking you weren’t a quitter. Isn’t that what you said the other night? Where’s that fighting spirit?”

  She smacks my stomach. The way her eyes widen tells me she possibly didn’t mean to hit me there. And when her apology tumbles out of her mouth, I know she’s experiencing the same concerns about working with me that I’m having about her.

  “God, Owen, I am so sorry. You’re my boss now, and so far this morning I’ve knocked you over and hit you, and we haven’t even started work for the day. This might take me a second to get used to, but please don’t fire me for being inappropriate.”

  I turn to face her, leaning my hip against the counter. “There’s no need to—”

  My ex wife takes that moment to breeze into the kitchen, interrupting our conversation. “Oh good, you’re here,” she says before glancing at Charlize. She slows, her eyes narrowing as she takes us in. When she speaks again, her tone is sharp. “I need to go over some things with you.” Waving her hand in Charlize’s direction, she adds, “Of course, finish with the staff first. I’ll be in my office.”

  These two women couldn’t be any different, and I’m left wondering what I ever saw in Jill as I watch her leave. I could swear she never used to be this rude, but years of putting up with her have made my memories foggy.

  “Sorry about that,” I apologise.

  Charlize is still staring after Jill. “Is she always like that?” She turns back to me. “And will I be working for her?”

  “I hate to break it to you, but yes. That’s my ex wife. She owns half the company.”

  A flash of understanding crosses her face. “Ah, gotcha. Makes sense.”

  I frown. “What makes sense?”

  “Her rudeness. She was staking her territory.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “What territory?”

  She pulls a face as if I’ve just asked the dumbest question. “You, of course.”

  Trent joins us then, effectively ending our conversation and leaving me confused. I’m not sure why Charlize would think Jill was staking her territory. Jill has slept with at least a dozen men since our divorce and two that I know of during our marriage. We ended things badly, and not once since then have either of us tried to reconcile, so there’s no territory to be staked.

  I introduce the two of them, and once I’m sure Charlize is comfortable with him, I leave them to it. I filled him in on the phone last night about the work I want her doing, so he’s ready to go. And the fact they hit it off straight away puts my mind at ease. Trent’s not as hard as the other guys I have working for me—he’ll take the time to guide her that none of them would have.

  Jill’s waiting in my office for me, and her cold eyes greet mine as I enter. “You took your time.”

  I move to my chair and sit. “And I thought you said you’d be waiting in your office for me.” I’m not ready to play her games yet this morning. I need at least one more coffee for that.

  She scowls. “I see you were busy in the kitchen with the flavour of the month.”

  I stare at her. Who is this woman? Sure, she’s caused me no end of problems over the last year where this company is concerned, but it’s like she’s morphed into a whole new level of bitch recently. “What the hell does that mean, Jill?”

  Leaning her hands on my desk, she snarls, “It means that if you’re thinking of fucking that staff member, don’t. We do not need a sexual harassment suit because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

  I push my chair back as my blood boils. Levelling an angry glare on her, I say, “I’ve never had a problem keeping my dick in my pants, and I’ve certainly never done anything to put my company at risk. I don’t appreciate you throwing those kind of accusations around.”

  Her brows arch. “Your company?”

  “Fuck, Jill, why are you being like this? I’ve worked damn hard over the last year to keep you happy, but you just seem to become moodier and bitchier with each passing month. If you’re not happy here, I’ll buy you out. You can go and find something that will make you happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

  “Screw you, Owen. All you’ve ever wanted since the day I met you was to fix the sins of your father. You put everything second to that one goal, including me. Not once did you think about my happiness, so don’t give me that bullshit now. And as far as your precious company is concerned, I’m not going anywhere. I stayed by your side for six long years, taking scraps of your time whenever you decided to hand them out. I deserve my seat at the table.”

  I grip the back of my neck and rub it. The guilt I feel over the breakdown of our marriage rears its ugly head. It’s the reason why I allow her to get away with some of the shit she does. Rationally I know she contributed to the breakdown, but this is one area of my life where my head doesn’t always win.

  When I don’t respond straight away, she snaps, “Just remember the Bluestone Award the next time you’re tempted to sleep with the staff.”

  With that, she stalks out of my office, and I exhale a frustrated breath.

  In other words, if I step over the line she’s created for me, she’ll fuck my chances of winning that award.

  5

  Charlize

  “What time will you be finished?” Dylan asks as he pulls into a car park outside my work.

  It’s Sunday afternoon, just after lunch, and I asked him to drop me off for a few hours so I could get a head start on next week’s work. I’ve been working at North & Co for three days and love it so much that I want to make a good impression by being ahead of the game as much as I can.

  “Can I text you? It’ll probably be around five or so.”

  He rests his hand on the steering wheel and peers at me over the rim of his aviators. Hitting me with one of his trademark sexy smiles that women line up for, he nods. “Sure thing, babe.” He then taps his cheek, which is something he only does with me.

  I grin and lean over to kiss him. It’s something we’ve always done during the entirety of our ten-year friendship. This time, however, he surprises me when he takes hold of my face and murmurs, “Be careful, Char.”

  I frown. “How so?”

  He lets me go and pulls his aviators off. “You’re working for a guy you’re into, and you’re
working days you don’t need to. That causes me concern. I don’t want to see you get hurt. So be careful, okay?”

  I grip his cheeks and squeeze them while blasting a smile his way. “Aww, you love me, Dyl. But there’s nothing to be worried about. I’ve hardly seen Owen since my first morning there. He was all about having coffee with me, and then, nothing. It was like he disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  “Yeah, well I’m keeping my eye out, and if I see any shit going down like it did with Lincoln, I’m hauling your ass outta here faster than you can argue with me.” My third-last boyfriend sucked me in with lies, and I fell hard for them and him. The relationship ended very messily, and Dylan has been super protective ever since.

  My smile turns into a grin. “I like it when you get all bossy and manly on me.” Grabbing my bag, I exit the car. “I’ll text you when I’m ready. And as far as Owen hurting me like Lincoln did, that’s not going to happen because while I might be into him, he’s my boss and I’m not about to ruin this opportunity to finally get ahead in life.”

  After I wave him off, I head inside the building that houses the North & Co offices. Owen’s company takes up five floors at the top of the building. The security guard clears me to enter, and a couple of minutes later, I step onto the floor my cubicle is on.

  I love the quiet that surrounds me. As I walk to my desk, I confirm I’m the only one here, which makes me more than happy. While I like people, I prefer my own company. Plus, I’ll get more work done without any interruptions.

  But first, coffee. And music.

  I grab my headphones out of my bag and connect them to my phone, pulling up my current favourite album that’s on repeat. A little bit of Kesha on a Sunday will get my brain working. Taking my Smurf mug with me, I dance my way into the kitchen in search of coffee.

  I’m in the middle of what could be one of my best dance sequences yet when I execute the final twirl and collide with a hard chest. Strong arms circle me, stopping me from falling, and just as the song I’m listening to finishes, Owen’s deep voice rumbles, “Who would have known that you can dance as well as you can analyse numbers and rip dresses?”

  My heart beats faster as I stare up into those blue eyes of his that make me think of naked swimming. My brain processes the data in front of me as fast as it can, but my scattered thoughts and emotions are too much for it to keep pace. I yank my headphones off and exclaim, “Owen! What are you doing here?”

  He chuckles, still holding me. “I own the place.”

  “You work on Sundays?” God, Charlize, could you have asked a more stupid question? Of course he works weekends. He owns the damn company. Way to show Owen my intelligence.

  Letting me go, he says, “I try not to, but lately I have been.”

  He sounds and looks exhausted, and I wonder what’s keeping him up at night. “You want me to make you a coffee?” I ask.

  The tiredness lining his face eases a little as he nods. “A coffee with you is just what the doctor ordered.”

  Butterflies don’t just whoosh through my tummy at his words; they bloody slam into it. Millions of them. And my naked swimming fantasies? I’m not imagining swimming anymore. Nope, I’m all about being naked in other ways with him.

  Trying to slow my mind and heart rate down, I quickly move to the coffee machine and busy myself with making his drink. Owen, on the other hand, has other ideas. It seems he doesn’t care how fast my heart is beating right now or that he’s causing dirty thoughts to take over my brain. He follows me and stands too damn close for my liking.

  Well, I mean, I like it. Just a little too much. And we are work colleagues after all now, so him and me and close should never be a real thing.

  “Why are you here today?” he asks.

  His proximity and deep rumble break my concentration, and my hand jerks, splashing milk all over the counter and on his shirt. Staring wide-eyed up at him, I shriek, “Shit! Sorry!” Grabbing the tea towel, I attempt to clean as much milk off his shirt as possible.

  I’m like a mad woman in my effort, and I don’t stop until every drop of milk on his shirt is dry. “It’ll probably smell. Milk is nasty like that. Do you have something you can spray your shirt with? I’ve got perfume, but I’m fairly sure you’re not going to want to smell like Flowerbomb for the rest of the day. I mean, I wouldn’t judge you or anything. It’s gotta smell better than milk.”

  It’s not until I’ve asked my question that I look up at him and find him watching me with amusement. “It’ll be fine,” he says, his voice full of that amusement.

  Narrowing my eyes at me, I point at his mouth and ask, “What is that?”

  His lips twitch. “What?”

  I jab my finger in the direction of his lips again. “That! You’re trying not to laugh at me. What did I do that was so funny?”

  Finally he allows a smile to spread out across his face. “I have never met a woman quite like you, Charlize. Every minute with you is a ride I didn’t see coming.”

  I pull a face. “As in a funny ride? Or a ride you can’t wait to get off because it’s too crazy?” I’m convinced he sees me as a crazy woman. How couldn’t he after every interaction we’ve had?

  He bends and his lips brush my ear. “As in the kind of ride I want to experience over and over.”

  His words thrill me, and I shiver with pleasure. When he pulls his face away and his eyes meet mine, I see desire there. It’s unmistakable. I’m not sure how I’ve missed it before.

  A delicious tension curls itself between us while I watch him silently, trying to figure out what to say next. Trying to work out where we can go from here. Hopping on that kind of ride over and over with your boss is surely not the smartest thing to do.

  Owen’s phone sounds with a text, effectively saving both of us from making a choice we might both regret later. He pulls it out of his pocket and after reading the text, mutters, “Shit.”

  I frown. “Is everything okay?”

  Glancing back up at me, he shakes his head. “No. Can you spare me some time so we can go over some data?”

  I want to say that I’m not sure whether the excitement I feel at his question comes from my love of analysing data or from the thought of spending time with him, but I know exactly where it comes from. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with data. “Yes. Let me finish making this coffee and then I’m all yours.”

  I realise that was a poor choice of words when his eyes heat with desire again. He quickly forces it away, though, and says, “Thank you.”

  This is going to be a long afternoon. A good one, because how can spending an afternoon with Owen North be bad? But a long one that may end up with me throwing myself at him. I’m pretty sure that if my mother had given me a handbook for getting through life, it would have said, “Don’t fuck your boss.” She didn’t give me that handbook, though, so I’m going to blame any bad decisions I make this afternoon on her.

  6

  Owen

  “So you don’t think the Liquid shares are worth considering?” I ask Charlize about an hour after I asked her into my office.

  She doesn’t answer me, but rather takes another minute or so reading something on her laptop. She has a spreadsheet that she keys share data into. It’s unlike any I’ve seen. It’s this that she’s currently reading.

  “No, you should avoid Liquid,” she finally says, glancing up at me. “I’d be more inclined to put half that cash into O’Brien’s Gas and spread the rest equally across Bliss and DAA.”

  I sit back in my seat and cross my arms. “Why Bliss? They’re not even on my radar. They never have been.” I’m so damn interested to know why she recommended them. This past hour with her has been fascinating. She’s given me a tiny glimpse into how her mind works, and to say she’s smart is a fucking understatement.

  Her eyes light up at my question. “Bliss is undervalued at the moment. Couple that with the knowledge they’re about to announce the acquisition of LaPorte Travel, and you want to get them on your rada
r right now.”

  “How do you know they’re acquiring LaPorte? Nothing has been reported on that.” If this is true, she’s right that I need to get in on Bliss now.

  She smiles and leans forward as if she’s about to share a huge secret with me. She then proceeds to lay it all out for me, connecting a lot of dots I would never have personally put together. And that’s saying something, because I make it my business to connect dots. I’ve got a hard-on just listening to her talk. And watching her up close, seeing her so animated and passionate about trading, that only gets me harder. It’s the same passion I have. I could sit here for hours discussing this with her.

  When she’s finished, I lean back in my chair and throw my pen down on the table. “Did your father share his love of the stock market with you? Is that how you got into it?”

  She fiddles with one of her bangles. Half her arm is covered in an assortment of them. Considering she’s also wearing two necklaces and a multitude of rings, I’m guessing she loves jewellery. “How do you know my father loves the stock market?” I detect the surprise in her voice. If she knew me well, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that I’ve taken the time to discover everything I can about her.

  I lean forward. It’s killing me to not move as close to her as possible. “I make a point to learn everything about the people I want in my life.”

  The air around us stills, the only sound to be heard is her sharp intake of breath. She’s silent for a few moments until she finally says, “Do you often meet women in a public bathroom, give them a job and then decide you want them in your life?”

  I smile at her flippancy, but ignore it. Everything else about her tells me I’ve unnerved her. The way she’s twirling her hair, biting her lip and staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind—she wants what I want, but she’s not ready to admit it yet. I can work with that. A good challenge always inspires me.

  Reaching for her hand, I stop her fiddling with her hair and say, “I can’t say I’ve ever wandered into a woman’s bathroom and met someone who I later employed. But something’s telling me that even if I had, they wouldn’t be anything like you.” I shift to the edge of my chair so I can lean closer to her. “I’ve spent the last few days trying to get you out of my head, but I’ve failed. I close my eyes, and all I can see is you. I try to work, and all I can think about is you. I go to the gym, and you’re right there with me. It’s been a week since I met you, and all I want to do is spend time with you.” I pause for a beat, giving her a moment to catch her breath because I’m almost certain she hasn’t taken one since I started talking. I let her hand go and lean back against my seat to relax her. “But first I want to know how you became interested in the stock market.”