Boardroom Sins

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Boardroom Sins Page 7

by J. Margot Critch


  When the elevator opened on her floor, she walked to the DI office and greeted her assistant, Amy.

  “Good morning, Ms. Daniels.”

  Rebecca smiled. She’d told Amy to call her Rebecca, but Amy had told her that she’d always called her father Mr. Daniels. It seemed as if old habits were hard to break. Yeah, tell me about it, Rebecca thought wryly as she accepted the stack of messages she’d received that morning.

  She thanked Amy and went into her office. She shuffled through them on the way to her desk and frowned when she found that several were from shareholders, old friends and close colleagues of her father’s, announcing their intention to relinquish their shares to Collins/Fischer.

  Some of them she’d just seen this morning. How could they have decided so quickly after her requests that they reconsider? Biting back a frustrated cry, she sat heavily down in her father’s chair. His desk was large, and she felt like a little girl behind it, like when she would visit him at work as a child, and he would spin her around in his chair. She looked around. The office was still very much her father’s. But it should feel like hers. She had to make a change. Perhaps if Rebecca looked and felt more like the leader of the company, everyone else would see it, as well. If she could distinguish her leadership from her father’s, let the shareholders know this was just the beginning of an exciting new era at DI, they’d be willing to hang on and give her a chance here, to see what she was capable of.

  She buzzed the intercom. “Amy?”

  “Yes, Ms. Daniels?”

  “Can you please get me some contacts for local interior designers? I’m making some changes.”

  * * *

  Even though Brett had gotten an early start on his day, the moon was high in the night sky when Rafael suggested he and Alex join him at the gym for a late-evening CrossFit workout. It was difficult to pull himself away, but he relented; there was no better way to release the tension than with a good, high-intensity workout. Well, there’s one better way, he thought as the image of being deep inside Rebecca flashed through his mind.

  But exercise wasn’t effective. He still carried the anger and tension from the previous evening and day. His mind wandered, shifting back to Rebecca. He’d been distracted, and it had made for a frustrating day. Even though he failed to expend all the negative strain on his body, he was glad to get out with his friends. After their regular vigorous routine, Brett, Alex and Rafael headed for the sauna to rest their fatigued muscles, and minds, with a little dry heat.

  Brett gripped the towel that wrapped around his waist, and he sighed when he finally sat on the treated wood. Immersed in heat, his muscles relaxed all at once. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten through the workout as he was exhausted from a lack of sleep the night before. He’d tossed and turned in bed with the sexual tension that still burned within him. His mind had been ready to shut down, but his body wouldn’t rest. He couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the image of Rebecca the night before, her legs spread, arms around him and could still feel her under his hands, smell her on his skin. He’d showered that morning, scrubbed twice, but there was no way to rid himself of her, or what they would have done together.

  The sauna was empty as he sat with his friends along a far wall. Rafael looked over at Brett. “You were a bit slow during our session,” he commented.

  “I’m just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

  “Me neither,” Alex added. They hadn’t revisited the issue of the takeover and his meeting with Rebecca.

  “Are we going to do this again?” Brett asked, drained.

  “No,” Alex said simply. “If you know this is the right move, that’s enough for me. I trust your judgment, unless you give me a reason I shouldn’t.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Isn’t it nice when we all get along?” Rafael laughed.

  Brett didn’t comment.

  “Dude. So, what is going on between you and Rebecca?” Alex asked.

  “Nothing,” Brett answered with a shake of his head. He should have known that he wouldn’t get away without being questioned by his friends again. “Like I said, she came to the club last night to see if we would back out of the buyout.” He looked at Alex and Rafael and could tell they both knew there was more.

  “And?”

  Brett blew out a breath. “We had sex.”

  “That was obvious,” Alex answered. “How was it?”

  “It was great. It was a lot of fun.”

  “It was fun,” Rafael repeated, nodding. “How unexpected,” he joked. “I’ve never had sex for fun before. I might have to give it a try.”

  Brett and Alex both laughed. “You’re such an asshole,” Brett told him. “But I have to amend my previous statement a little. It was great until I brushed her off, sent her away and she flipped me off as she got into a car.”

  Alex laughed before growing serious again. “But do you think she can jeopardize the takeover?”

  “She’s already told me that she’s going to fight it. I know she’s tenacious, and she’ll do anything to get what she wants.” He shrugged. “But really, I don’t know much about her approach to business these days. We weren’t exactly close back in college, and I haven’t seen her in five years. But I do know that she’s tough. I did a little looking, and she’s got a rep in New York. A lot of guys think she’s a bit of a shark. I don’t think she’ll make it easy.” It was almost admirable that she’d been such a figure in the New York City business world. It proved Rebecca was intelligent, driven, ambitious and would be a huge pain in his ass. Brett closed his eyes, suddenly drained. He dragged his fingers through his damp hair and wondered when the last time was that he’d taken a vacation.

  Rafael blew out a breath, appearing to relax in the heat. “You know, we should all go away sometime,” he said as if reading Brett’s mind. “Take a vacation.”

  Brett looked over at his friend, taking in the deep frown lines that marked his face, and he wondered if Rafael’s political life and future run for mayor were beginning to take a toll on him. Brett knew that Raf was just as overworked as he was. They all were. “Yeah, that’d be great,” Brett agreed. “Where are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Rio, maybe? Bangkok? Amsterdam? Gabe’s grandmother owns that vineyard in Portugal. We can go anywhere.”

  Brett nodded sagely. A trip anywhere with his best friends would be amazing. “It’s been too long since we did something like that. Let’s make it happen. When we close this takeover of Daniels International, that is.”

  “Yeah, and when I’m mayor of Las Vegas,” Rafael agreed, and Brett laughed, knowing that they would probably never get to take a group vacation, with all of their busy lives and schedules. So he leaned back, and they enjoyed the sauna and the quiet camaraderie. Quiet moments were few and far between for them.

  “So, what are you going to do about Rebecca?” Rafael asked.

  Brett didn’t answer right away. What should I do about Rebecca?

  “If she’s a shark like you suggest, she’s definitely going to complicate matters for us,” Alex said.

  And sex was complicating things further... “I’ve got to stay sharp,” Brett said finally. “Sex has always been the main thing between us. I wouldn’t be surprised if she decided to use it as a weapon against me. Hell, maybe that was her aim last night... Maybe she’s planning to distract me somehow, use our chemistry to get me to back off.” Brett caught Alex’s raised brows and the look he sent Raf, who shrugged. If that was her goal, he almost couldn’t blame her... He might try it himself if the tables were turned. “Maybe I’ll play her game.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Rafael asked.

  “I’m going to use sex to distract her during the takeover. Take her off her game and scoop DI out from under her. But I might as well have a little fun, too.” He grinned at his friend. “I’m going to see her again. So
on.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS LATE Friday evening when Brett unlocked his door and walked into his home. It had been almost a week since they’d begun their takeover of Daniels International, almost a week since Rebecca had come back into his life—in the flesh. It had been a long seven days, and work on their DI bid and their many other contracts had kept him in the office, in meetings, buried in literal stacks of paperwork, which had caused him to spend every night in his office. He’d gotten away only long enough to take in a few quick workouts and working lunches.

  Rebecca was a formidable opponent, and she’d proved to work just as hard to hold on to her company as he was working to take it from her. She had somehow managed to keep many shareholders on board, which was a true feat, considering the price Collins/Fischer had offered. Brett figured that he and Alex would have to up the price soon.

  He threw his shoulder bag and jacket on a stool in the kitchen and walked into the living room, the motion-sensor lights turning on as he went. Everything in his home was just as he’d left it when he’d last been here. The place was neat, tidy, sleek, modern—he barely spent enough time in his home to clutter it up.

  He flopped down on his couch. Even though he was exhausted, a particular energy coursed through his veins. He’d told his friends he would find out what Rebecca’s game was once and for all, and turn it against her. But he hadn’t been able to find any time to do that. Not that he thought she’d even see him, considering how busy she must be, trying to save her own company, and the way they’d parted earlier that week.

  Despite not having seen her for days, his thoughts seemed to turn to her without hesitation. He could still feel her, smell her, and a fresh wave of desire came over him. He tried to fight it off, remembering that Rebecca was probably trying to play him, distract him from his plans, but that didn’t stop his dick from getting hard in his pants.

  God, he’d fucked her, but that ache pulsed throughout him, and he couldn’t quell it. He dropped his hand to his lap and palmed his stiff length through the material of his pants. He sighed and leaned back on the couch, figuring that he might as well just jerk off and go to bed. But as he ran his hand over himself, it had no effect on his need, so he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. He would need a little assistance.

  He opened his contacts and scanned through the list of women whose numbers he’d collected. Women with whom he’d previously enjoyed some wild nights. Kristy, Alexa, Samantha, Bianca... He let out a frustrated sigh when he realized that none of them would do. There was only one woman who consumed his mind, and she certainly hadn’t given him her cell number.

  Wanting to get to the bottom of all the questions he had about her to find a way to weaken her position, he opened the internet browser on his phone, and in the search bar he typed “Rebecca Daniels.” Her picture, a professional headshot, filled the screen, and he lingered over it. She looked confident, composed. Shiny blond hair and radiant blue eyes. But he couldn’t help but see her sensual side. The side of her that got off on being fingered at a party. Her social media accounts were also listed, and he found her Facebook page. Should he message her? He clicked on the private messaging app, but he paused in hesitation before he typed, then dashed off a quick message and sent it before he could hesitate.

  I want to see you.

  It was true. While he tried to tell himself that it was strictly business, it wasn’t. Part of him wanted to see her, to throw her off her game. Getting her out of the way would definitely make his life easier. But as his dick ached, and his libido took over, he knew those weren’t the only reasons he wanted to see her.

  He could tell that she’d seen the message, and the three telltale dots showed that she was writing a message.

  Why?

  Call me a masochist.

  You aren’t the only one. Why are you still awake?

  I just got home. I can’t sleep.

  Me neither. I haven’t been home long myself.

  He paused, knowing she was working just as hard as he was to stay cool, before he continued typing. Why don’t we get a late dinner? We can talk.

  It’s late.

  I know.

  Christ, it sounded like he was begging. Brett never begged.

  Just to talk?

  I swear. He looked at his phone. There was no movement on the screen. Then the three dots danced in the message window. He held his breath, stilled, feeling like a statue as he waited for her reply.

  Where do you want to go?

  Just give me a minute to make a phone call. I know a place.

  * * *

  Rebecca parked her car outside Thalia, the restaurant Brett had selected. The parking lot was empty, and she wondered if the place was even open. It was eleven at night—definitely late for dinner.

  A black Porsche, shiny under the lights of the parking lot, pulled in after her. It parked and Brett got out. He was still wearing a suit, but it was slightly rumpled and she knew it must have been the one he’d been wearing all day.

  The corners of his lips turned upward a little. A small, imperceptible movement, but she remained cautious. “I don’t think it’s open,” she called to him as he neared.

  He looked up at the building and frowned, making a show of checking his watch. “No. I don’t suppose it is.” But he continued walking to the door. He pulled it open and waited for her to walk ahead of him.

  The restaurant was completely empty, and a server appeared before them. “Mr. Collins, Ms. Daniels, thank you for joining us this evening,” the man said with a smile.

  Rebecca wasn’t sure how happy he must be with the latecomers. She hoped they weren’t putting any of the staff out by showing up at this hour.

  “Thanks for having a table for us,” she replied with a gracious smile. Looking up at Brett as the waiter showed them to their table, she wondered what kind of pull he had with the owner to accommodate them so late. But she shouldn’t have been surprised. Brett’s influence in the city was strong. They were led to a plush round booth in a far corner. The high back almost completely secluded them from the rest of the empty restaurant.

  She slid in, Brett sat across from her and the waiter placed two menus in front of them before taking their drink order—Malbec for her, soda water with basil and lime for Brett, an order the waiter already seemed to know.

  They didn’t speak until the server returned and put their drinks in front of them. Rebecca studied Brett instead of her menu. She still didn’t understand what she was doing there. Why had he messaged her? And why had she been so willing to meet him? They hadn’t exactly parted on good terms the last time she’d seen him. She blamed it on fatigue. It had been a long week for her, fighting to keep her company away from the strong hands of the man across the table from her.

  He turned back to her and smiled. The gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes, and they sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other as light music played throughout the empty restaurant.

  Before long, his scrutiny proved to be too much and she looked away first, taking in their surroundings before drinking a sip of wine. “I’m kind of surprised that you were able to get a table, you know, in a closed restaurant and all,” she said over the rim of her wineglass.

  “You probably shouldn’t be.” He smirked.

  “This is a nice place. I’ve heard great things about it.”

  He looked past her, seemingly surveying the rest of the dining room before sipping his water. “Thanks.”

  “Of course. You own this place, too?”

  “Brett.” Rebecca heard a woman call from behind them. She craned her neck over the high back of the booth to see who had called out to him, and she saw Alana approach the table.

  He smiled. “Hey, I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “Yeah, I’m heading out now. I just wanted to make sure that Nick and Josh were okay
with staying late for you.”

  “We appreciate it. Thank you for arranging it.”

  “Anytime. You just make sure you tip them well for staying however long after close you’ll be keeping them.”

  “Of course,” Brett agreed.

  Rebecca was relieved that they both would make sure their staff was taken care of. She’d spent summers working in service jobs. Her father had insisted that she get a taste of the “real work that keeps the country going.”

  Alana turned to face her. “Rebecca, it’s great seeing you around again. It’s too bad we didn’t get a chance to speak yet. How are you?”

  “I’m fantastic,” she replied. Alana hadn’t seemed to change at all from when they were younger. She was always so kind, and Rebecca had really liked her. “And you?”

  “So good,” she said. “Everything is great but extremely busy.”

  “I was just telling Brett how amazing this place is. It’s a beautiful restaurant. I can’t imagine what it must be like when it’s actually open,” she said, sliding her eyes across the table at Brett.

  Alana laughed. “You’re kind. Thank you. This place really is my pride and joy. It was the first one we opened.” She looked around the room with affection and put her hand on top of the booth above Brett’s head. “She’s my baby. It was nice seeing you, but I should go and leave you guys alone.” Turning to Brett, she said, “Want to do brunch tomorrow?”

  “I can’t,” he told her. “I’m having my biweekly brunch with my parents tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Tell them I said hi.” She turned to Rebecca. “Would you like to get together tomorrow, Rebecca? We can catch up.”

  Rebecca caught Brett’s frown at Alana’s invitation but ignored him. Just because she and Brett were at odds didn’t mean that she was going to let him stop her from forging relationships with her old friends. “Yeah, that sounds great,” she said, pulling her card out of her purse. “My cell number is on there. Just text me when you get a chance, and we can arrange a time and place.”

 

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