by Tina Folsom
The elevator started to move.
“So, Zach, you’ve got quite a project there,” Davenport started.
“You know me. I can’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs.” He looked at the older man. “You were just like that when you were younger. I hope you haven’t lost that character trait.” At least he hoped not, because he needed to get Davenport on his side. A shareholder with the kind of voting power Davenport held could either derail or greenlight a project, depending on his likes or dislikes.
“I’m not so sure, Zach. The project seems rather risky.”
“I have to say that a little risk-taking can only be good for the company,” Emily interjected. “And I wouldn’t call Russia all that risky, Max, or are you getting cold feet in your old age?” Even though the words were accompanied by a friendly smile, they were nevertheless meant as a stab.
“Emily, I can only attribute it to your youth that you throw around money so foolishly, because I know you’re smarter than that,” Davenport shot back.
All of a sudden, Zach saw it as clear as day: the two hated each other. He’d never noticed it before, even though both were members of the board and they saw each other at least once a month.
Maybe he’d never noticed it because he’d always been eager to avoid Emily. For purely private reasons: he didn’t want to become husband number four. Because whenever he and Emily met, she hinted that she wouldn’t oppose a bond between them. How long he could continue to pretend he didn’t know what she meant, he didn’t know.
Emily was a beautiful woman. She was in her mid thirties and from a good family with the right connections. He was sure there were plenty of men who would love to have a relationship with Emily, but he wasn’t one of them. He liked his women more down to earth like Rochelle. Damn, could he not even manage fifteen minutes without thinking about her?
“As you said, Max, I recognize a good investment when I see it, and I don’t let a bit of risk scare me away.”
The elevator doors opened and Emily exited first, and Zach and Davenport followed. The doors had already begun to close, when Zach whirled around and quickly stopped them with his hand.
“Are you coming, Chris?”
Leech suddenly looked around himself. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he said rather absentmindedly.
“What do you think, Chris?” Emily now asked.
“About what?” he barked back.
“About Zach’s project of course. Didn’t you read the file he sent out?”
“Of course I read the file. But I can’t imagine that a project with a Russian company would be of interest to us. The risk inherent in such a transaction is large enough without the Mafia.”
“The Mafia?” Zach asked, surprised.
His voice echoed in the bare shell of the 45th floor. Only a few walls had been put in so far; the ceiling still showed the mechanical conduits and wiring, and the floor was still only a concrete slab.
“Yes, have you never heard of the Russian Mafia?”
Now Davenport laughed. “Chris, it sounds like you’re trying to scare us all over nothing as usual.”
“I thought you weren’t keen on the project either,” Leech answered.
“Yeah, but not because of the Mafia. The numbers don’t add up for me.” He looked at Zach. “The profit margin can’t be that big, right? The numbers look just a little too good to be true.”
“Believe me,” Zach assured him. “I’ve had it re-calculated several times to make sure it’s correct. The numbers don’t lie. If we go in on this project, we can expect our profits to increase by fifty-six percent.”
“Do you really want to reject such an opportunity, Max?” Emily asked.
Zach grinned. “And I don’t even have to bribe Emily to recognize that.”
Emily chuckled and winked at him. “Though it would be nice if you sold me that antique desk you have.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “The one I keep at my home?”
“The very same. You outbid me on that one at the last auction.”
“A little healthy competition hasn’t harmed anyone yet.”
“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Leech interrupted.
Zach cleared his throat. “What exactly don’t you like about the deal, Chris? I’m happy to explain all the details to you. That’s the whole reason for this meeting today.”
“If you want our help to talk the other shareholders into voting for this project, then you’ll have to give us more information than what you put in the proposal. To be honest, the file threw up more doubts than I feel comfortable with.”
“Well, then let’s discuss it.” Zach motioned to one end of the long corridor. “Maybe over there. There’s a fabulous view I believe you’ll enjoy.”
Zach knew that Leech was an enthusiastic hobby photographer. The view from the other end of the building, looking out over the southern end of Manhattan would maybe get him into a better mood so Zach could dispel any doubts Leech had about the Russian project.
He needed Leech’s vote, just as he needed every vote he could get in order to land this deal and make the company even stronger than it already was. He lived for projects like these, for challenges like these.
9
Rochelle nervously tugged at her suit. She hadn’t changed after work, not wanting Zach to think that she considered this a date. She had no intention of giving him that impression. But now as she entered the elegant restaurant in the Chelsea neighborhood of New York and looked around, she had to admit that she would have felt more comfortable in an elegant dress. The women sitting at the tables were dressed to the nines, and in her strict gray suit with the pencil skirt she felt oddly out of place—and rather like a headmistress of a catholic girls school.
At least she’d left her hair open, allowing it to billow over her shoulders, softening her look.
The hostess at the entrance looked at her expectantly. Rochelle was about to ask for Zach’s table, when she spotted him. He had already seen her, and was walking toward her from his chair. A broad grin lay on his lips and he looked a lot more relaxed and less intimidating than in his office in the morning. Apparently his rage had simmered down. Relieved, Rochelle sighed and nodded to the hostess, who was now looking over her shoulder.
“Oh, you’re here with Mr. Ivers,” she said and gave her a saccharin-sweet smile that couldn’t disguise the fact that she was envious of Rochelle. “Have a nice evening.”
Rochelle simply nodded.
“I’m glad you came,” Zach greeted her and leaned in as if he wanted to kiss her.
She remained stiff and offered her hand for a shake. “It’s not like you left me a choice.”
He raised one eyebrow and reached for her arm, motioning to the table. “I hope you’re hungry. I ordered us the tasting menu.”
The six-course menu for which this restaurant was famous? This promised to be a long night, which was exactly the opposite of what she wanted.
“That was a little premature,” she said when he led her to the table. “I don’t intend to stay that long.”
Zach pulled the chair back for her and helped her sit down, then leaned over her from behind and whispered in her ear, “Yesterday you didn’t want to have dinner with me either. If you want to skip dinner and move this evening to a hotel, just let me know.”
Outraged by his brazenness, she huffed, while Zach took his seat opposite her. When she met his gaze, there was a triumphant sheen in his eyes.
“Don’t think you can escape so easily. We’ll be spending the evening together and you may choose if this evening takes place in a restaurant or a bed.” He smiled charmingly. “Now, enjoy your food. The cuisine here is excellent.”
Before she could come back with a retort, a waiter came to their table. “Ma’am, a glass of red wine?”
She nodded absentmindedly, while the waiter poured her a glass. After bowing briefly he left the table, and Zach raised his glass, looking into her eyes.
“To an exciting evening.�
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Rochelle took her glass. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. This is not a date.”
Zach clinked his glass to hers. “The jury is still out on that.” Then he took a sip and she did the same.
The delicious wine coated her dry throat and sent a feeling of relaxation through her tired body. It had been an exhausting day, and she deserved some wine and good food, even if she had to consume both in Zach’s presence. But that didn’t mean that she was going to get involved with him again. He was the object of her investigation and therefore taboo.
“Zach,” she started, “you know as well as I do that I shouldn’t even be here tonight. To be seen in public with you could cost me my job. I only came to—”
Zach put his hand over hers and interrupted her. “I’m aware of the risk you’re taking. I appreciate it.”
She tried to pull her hand from underneath his without him noticing, but he didn’t allow it.
“Please, Rochelle, don’t we owe it to each other to talk about this?”
She felt her chest rise and fall. “The only thing we need to discuss is the fact that we can’t see each other outside of work.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but the waiter arrived at the table at that moment and placed two tiny bowls with an exotic looking dish in front of them.
“An amuse bouche made of salmon foam with fennel sauce and a touch of dill,” he announced.
Zach let go of her hand. Automatically Rochelle took the spoon and put some of the food on it. She took a bite, tasting the concoction. The delicate flavor spread on her tongue. Involuntarily she let out a sigh of contentment.
Zach smiled at her from across the table. “See, I told you the food was good here.”
A smile escaped her. “I never doubted that. But it doesn’t change anything about the fact that we can’t see each other.”
“Because you’re investigating me, or because you only ever wanted a one-night stand?”
“The one has nothing to do with the other.” She took a breath and went on the offensive. “Besides, you’re the one who suggested a hotel, even though you live in Manhattan. You didn’t want a relationship either, or you would have invited me to your place last night. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Zach put down his spoon. “The reason why I preferred the anonymity of a hotel was because I didn’t want to intimidate you with my penthouse.”
“Intimidate me?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Please, at least be honest with me.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay, maybe intimidate wasn’t quite the right word. I have a rule when it comes to women.”
She lifted her eyebrows, but said nothing.
“I don’t invite women I just met to my home. I don’t want them to be drawn to my wealth so they only want to be with me because of my money.”
She nodded slowly. “So you thought I’d throw myself at you, just because you’re rich. Thanks a lot for your confidence.”
“Rochelle, I didn’t mean that personally.”
“How did you mean it then?”
“You wanted me to be honest with you. I didn’t even know you. Had I known—”
“Had you known what? That I work for the SEC?”
He gave a determined shake of his head. “No. Had I known how much you affect me, how much you get under my skin, I would have taken you to my place and insisted that you give me your phone number.”
The revelation silenced her. She was getting under his skin? No, no, that couldn’t be. That was impossible. He only said this to soften her up. To confuse her. Yes, that was the reason. He was trying to butter her up.
“Do you really think I’ll be lenient in my investigation if you charm me?”
Zach’s jaw tightened visibly. “Why do you assume that I have an ulterior motive? Can’t you just accept that I’m attracted to you?”
A shadow fell on the table and Rochelle realized that the waiter was placing a plate with salad in front of her. At some point he must have removed the empty bowl without her noticing.
“A salad of red and yellow beets, with arugula and a truffle vinaigrette.”
“Thank you,” Zach said stiffly, while he pinned her with his eyes.
The waiter hurried away.
For a moment, there was silence between them.
“Don’t you want to answer me?” Zach finally asked.
She picked at her salad without eating. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth would be good.”
She lowered her lids. The truth was that she felt charmed by his words, no, more than just charmed. But she couldn’t allow him to get to her with his seductive compliments. However, heat flared up in her when she thought of the night before, when she remembered how passionate things had been between them. And to hear Zach say today that she was getting under his skin made the entire experience even more intense.
When she suddenly felt his hand on hers, she whipped her head in his direction, her eyes colliding with his. In the dim light of the restaurant his blue eyes looked like stars in the night sky. How could a woman think clearly when a handsome man looked at her like that? It wasn’t fair.
Zach tenderly stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “Rochelle, please…”
Behind her she heard a waiter usher new guests to a table. “This way, gentlemen.”
Involuntarily she turned her head and saw the waiter and two elegantly dressed men head for an empty table. Her heart stopped for an instant only to drum more rapidly when it restarted.
She recognized the younger of the two men. It was Todd Yochum, her boss.
Panic gripped her. Quickly she turned her head away. Zach seemed to notice her frantic movement.
“Something wrong?”
She bent over the table and whispered to him, “My boss. He’s taking a seat at the table over there.”
Zach turned his head.
“No, don’t look!” she warned. “I have to leave. Now, before he sees me with you and suspends me.”
Zach squeezed her hand. “I’ll take care of it.” He waved to the waiter, who instantly came to the table.
“Is the salad not to your liking?” he asked.
“No, the salad is perfect,” Zach answered and motioned the waiter to bend closer. “But my companion and I need to leave. Urgently. And discreetly, if you know what I mean.”
The waiter tossed her a sideways glance, before he nodded to Zach. “Of course, sir. Through the kitchen?”
“Excellent.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and pressed his credit card into the waiter’s hand. “Please charge me for the full meal.”
“Very well, sir.”
Zach instructed the waiter to stand at the other side of the table, to shield her from the other guests’ view, then helped her get up, offered his arm and led her in the direction of the kitchen. The waiter followed them.
Zach pushed the door to the kitchen open and Rochelle entered instantly.
“Wait here for me, Rochelle.”
She nodded and looked around. The kitchen staff graced her with curious looks, but they didn’t interrupt their work. She was probably not the first guest, who tried to hide in the kitchen. The waiter’s quick reaction suggested as much.
Her heart still beat erratically. The very thing she’d feared most, had happened. Her boss had shown up in the same restaurant as Zach and she. She could only hope that she’d reacted swiftly enough to avoid detection.
When a few minutes later the door opened again, it was Zach who entered followed by the waiter.
“This way,” the employee said and walked ahead.
Zach took her hand and paved a way through the busy kitchen. The waiter was already holding a door open.
“Have a nice evening.”
Zach nodded. “Many thanks again.”
“Anytime, Mr. Ivers.”
Rochelle exited into the warm night air and found herself in a dark alley. A black limousine waited there, its motor running.
“Please drive Miss Wright home, Henderson.”
While the driver opened the passenger door, Zach turned to her. “We’re not done talking. You and I still have lots to discuss. But not tonight.”
“Zach, I think everything has been s—”
He lowered his head and pressed a chaste kiss on her cheek. He lingered there for a moment longer and she felt him inhale her scent.
When he stepped back, she saw passion light up his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Without a word, she got into the limousine. The driver closed the door behind her and entered, while Zach stood there at the side of the road, until the driver set the car in motion.
“Where to, Miss Wright?”
She gave him her address, then leaned back in the comfortable leather seats, but she couldn’t truly relax, because all kinds of thoughts were running through her mind.
Why hadn’t Zach used this opportunity to accompany her, when she couldn’t really have denied him after he’d extricated her from such a precarious situation with swiftness and grace? Especially since this was his car and his chauffeur.
10
To get the Eternal Bachelors Club together for an impromptu crisis meeting had only taken half an hour. All except two members of the club arrived shortly after Zach at his Manhattan penthouse. Jay was still on his yacht with his fiancée Tara, and Daniel, who as a married man, wasn’t technically a member anymore, couldn’t leave his wife Sabrina on her own, because she was due to give birth to their first child any day now.
But everybody else had followed Zach’s request for a meeting and was now sitting in his living room. They had already helped themselves to drinks and were waiting expectantly for him to start telling them what all this was about.
Zach looked around. Hunter Hamilton sat casually on the armrest of a large armchair, while Wade Williams—tonight without a beard for a change—occupied said armchair¸ legs crossed. Xavier Eamon, the least talkative of his friends, sat in one corner of the large sofa, while Michael Clarkson, who was also the treasurer of the club, sat in the other. Paul Gilbert, who had resigned from the club when he’d gotten married after knowing Holly for less than three months, sat between the two.