“Your father, and the other members of the board, didn’t think he’s had sufficient preparation.” From Avery’s tone, he felt the same. “In many ways, your brother is still a child eager to play with a new toy. That can’t be the attitude of the new CEO.”
It felt like they were talking about two separate people. Lance was ready and willing to take on all the responsibilities of being CEO to one of the largest, privately held construction corporations in the world. He had his business school degree. He was on the Sykes Global board of directors and was a major decision-maker at the Sylvia Sykes Foundation. Long ago, he’d even made the responsible decision to live in Atlanta instead of running off to more exciting parts of the world.
The look on Avery’s face didn’t invite any disagreement and Roman didn’t feel like banging his head against a brick wall trying to convince the man of something he was already closed off to.
“All right,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll commit to the year and I’ll just...I don’t know...corral Lance toward something else.” Although his brother would fight him tooth and nail on that one. Lance was convinced he already knew everything about running Sykes Global and just needed to step into the role. “I don’t want him to know his own father didn’t trust him to run the company he’s prepared his entire life for.”
Avery was unfazed. “As I said, it’s your decision whether or not to inform Lance.”
“Okay, I suppose that’s it then.” Roman stood then remembered that Avery had his own reason for the meeting. “Apologies. What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”
“You already brought it up on your own, actually. A convenient coincidence.” Avery tapped his fingers against the still blank legal pad.
“My father’s blackmail you mean?” Roman wasn’t in the mood to be generous.
“If you want to call it that.”
“That’s what it is.” Roman could feel himself getting worked up, the blood pumping faster in his body, rushing through him like a high and threatening tide. Taking a deep and quiet breath, he buttoned his jacket. “Thank you for your time, Avery. I’ll see myself out.”
“Very well.” The lawyer made a noncommittal gesture. “If you need anything else regarding this or any other matter, please don’t hesitate to contact me.” He rose and left the empty notepad and folder on the chair, heading toward his desk, apparently trusting Roman to indeed see himself across the massive office and out the door. “My regards to your brother.”
Roman grunted.
On the slow descent in the elevator, neither his temper nor his unease about what his father had done to Lance managed to simmer him down. He needed something else besides the deep, slow breaths that were definitely not doing him any good.
Less than fifteen minutes later he was walking into his favorite teahouse in the city. The place was a fusion of Asian cultures that had the tranquility of a bonsai garden, the culinary variety of a Thai food market and the faint scent of honeysuckle blossoms.
Just entering brought his shoulders down from where they’d been tensed up around his ears. His breathing automatically settled.
“Mr. Sykes.” The hostess greeted him with a smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
“It’s good to be seen, Kiyoshi. Do you have a table for me?” The teahouse was already full of the Friday after-work crowd, most of whom had probably left their offices early. Despite that, the large room still retained its air of temple-like quiet and tranquility.
“Always.” She picked up a menu. “Please, follow me.” She led him to the only remaining free table.
Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he sat at the low table beside the wide windows with a view onto the quiet street.
“Will you be having the usual?” Kiyoshi asked.
Roman opened his mouth to say yes then changed his mind. “Actually, room temperature water with lemon slices for now, please. Let me take a look at the menu and see if I can switch it up.”
“A little change does a life good,” she said, settling the menu in his hands. “I’ll have your server come by with some water right away.”
“Thank you.”
She disappeared in a swish of skirts while Roman tried to pair his mood with one of the dishes on the menu. A steady presence at the window brought his head up and his eyes collided with a very familiar gaze. He swallowed heavily in an uncontrollable reaction. The dark eyes outside the window widened before narrowing with speculation and then disappeared.
What were the odds?
This neighborhood was far enough away from where he’d met the outspoken girl-woman before that seeing her now felt as odd as meeting a unicorn in space. Or anywhere for that matter.
Great. Now she had him thinking about things that didn’t exist.
The menu claimed his attention again after far too long thinking about unique, magical creatures and what this girl might have in common with them when a slim shape slid into the chair across from him.
Aisha Clark’s smile was more shark than pixie, but that didn’t stop Roman from nearly swallowing his tongue at the sight of her.
“Good afternoon, Mr. CEO.” She looked far too pleased to have caught him by surprise. “Funny running into you in a place like this.”
Chapter 5
Aisha settled into the chair across the table from Roman Sykes and wanted to laugh at the look of shock that showed briefly on his face.
“Funny isn’t quite the word I would use,” he said with a frown.
She airily waved away his grumpiness. “What are we having tonight? All the food I passed by on my way in here looks good.”
“Everything here is good,” he said.
“Excellent! That should make our choices easy then.”
Aisha slid her purse onto the small table for two and propped her chin in her palm. After that quick moment of naked surprise, Roman Sykes’s granite face turned calm, his eyes level and cool. And even though his calm pricked her temper even more, part of her admired his steel in the face of her potential craziness.
After getting the letter canceling the Sykes Prize, she’d been livid with rage. That rage had carried her through their clash in his office and the many hours after that. A day later she was only just beginning to calm down and think of the next steps when, wandering the quiet in-town neighborhood after work, she’d seen him in the restaurant window.
Instantly all her calm had crumbled. With anger fueling her, she’d acted without thinking, storming into the quiet restaurant and plopping herself down at his table.
Truth be told, she was a little shocked by her own behavior, but she was committed now.
Ugh. Where was the waiter? Her dry mouth and lips begged for a glass of water to soothe them.
Clenching her shaking hands together in her lap, she arranged her face into a look of defiance and faced Roman Sykes head-on.
She’d never let him know the surprise she’d felt at seeing the Sykes heir at the teahouse in the part of Atlanta she’d always considered her own. She’d already revealed too much of how she’d felt at seeing Hot Yoga Daddy from Baked Good transform into the three-piece-suit-wearing CEO intent on destroying her dreams.
She still couldn’t believe those two men were the same. A part of her had died inside when she’d seen Roman the CEO sitting behind that big desk, his appealing face and those warm laugh lines at the corner of his eyes all subdued in that massive office. But the man she’d seen also belonged there in that room of power and wealth. He just did not belong to her.
At the thought, she winced and looked around the crowded teahouse. Despite the people, it was so quiet.
Across from her, Roman Sykes heaved a sigh loud enough for the neighboring table to hear it. “Ms. Clark, I don’t think it’s very produ—”
“Good evening, sir. Ma’am.” A waiter in a dark shirt and pants, what Aisha assumed was the uniform
of the place, smiled at her and Roman Sykes. He put a glass of water and a small saucer of sliced lemons on the table before Roman and then poured water with ice into the empty glass in front of Aisha. “What else can I get you to drink tonight?”
She immediately grabbed the water and drank half of it in one go.
Sykes raised an eyebrow at Aisha and put his menu on the table. The challenge was obvious in his gaze. Did he think she would back down?
“What are you having, darling?” She drawled out the last word. “By the time you tell him what you want, I should be ready.” Aisha grabbed up his discarded menu and made a show of looking at it, tracing each item on the list of small plates while Sykes glowered at her.
“Of course, miss.” The waiter gave her a gentle smile then turned to Sykes. “Sir, do you know what you’d like?”
Sykes’s look said he’d like for Aisha to get out of there and allow him to eat his dinner in peace, but that wasn’t about to happen.
“Actually,” she said, warming up to her gate-crasher role, “I’d love some tea. Is there something you can recommend?” The question was for the waiter but, surprisingly, it was Sykes who answered.
“A pot of the TranquiliTea would be a good place for us to start, actually,” he said, his gaze flickering briefly to Aisha. “Lightly sweetened.”
“Certainly, sir. And that’s okay with you, ma’am?”
“Who can resist TranquiliTea?” She gave the waiter a playful smile and when he rushed away to put in their order, she wiped the smile off her face. “Is that what you’re offering me tonight instead of the Sykes Prize that I put my soul into and won fair and square?”
Sykes braced his arms on the table, linking his fingers and resting them just below his mouth.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Clark?”
“You know damn well what you can do for me,” she snapped.
“And I already told you, that’s impossible. The decision has already been made.” He looked completely implacable. Untouchable. So unlike the man at the bakery. But she wasn’t just after a phone number tonight.
“Why have you done this?” Her hand turned into a fist on top of the table. “Why? Did I do something to you and don’t know it? Is it because I asked for your phone number that afternoon?”
He winced and that single show of emotion made her glad.
“This has nothing to do with what happened between us on Saturday. I didn’t know who you were then and I certainly would never punish someone for...going after what they want.”
“Even if what they want is you?”
“Even then.”
“So what’s the issue? You’re not out to get me because I want to see you naked. Then what is it?” She bit down on her lip to stop herself from screaming at him. But he must have caught something in her expression.
His mouth tightened. “Have you thought about meditating?” he asked her, looking so serious she wanted to crack his calm in two. “You’re really worked up about this.”
“Worked up?” She let out a breath of disbelief. “You’d be this passionate, too, if someone just made a decision that affected your entire career. The only reason you’re sitting there calm as can be is because you’re completely in control of yourself and all your millions. Someone didn’t just pull the rug from under your life.”
A strange look came over his face. He brushed his chin with the pad of a large thumb, his eyes slipping into the middle distance. Back and forth went that thumb. The anger that simmered in her blood changed into something else altogether.
Damn him. She squeezed her thighs together and prayed for strength. She only wanted to hate him. But that spark that had flared between them in the bakery now burned hotter than ever. She wanted to replace that brushing thumb with her own finger and then her lips. Her mouth was once again painfully dry and she was thirsty for a drink of Roman Sykes.
Okay, Aisha. Focus. This man is your enemy. Not any sort of dream lover, no matter how many times he’s actually appeared in your dreams. Naked.
Finally, Sykes pursed his lips and brought himself back from whatever place he’d slipped off to. “Your entire career, really?” he asked.
“Yes, really. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
“Actually, it’s pretty easy for me to believe. It’s just that—” He broke off to squeeze a lemon slice into his water and then take a drink.
“What, you think your problems define the scope of everyone else’s?” Aisha asked scornfully. “Please don’t tell me you’re another one of those self-centered types.”
He didn’t seem like one of those, but as much as she wanted to get to know him, she didn’t.
“One person’s self-centeredness is another’s self-care,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow.
That damn eyebrow. Raising it at her was a sure sign he was saying something she didn’t want to hear. What she wanted him to say was that he’d made a mistake and was giving her the prize after all. So far those words hadn’t left his mouth.
Hell, she had to accept that they never would.
Just then the waiter came back with a tea service that he carefully placed in the middle of the table. Sykes had ordered it lightly sweetened, which didn’t at all sound appealing, but she wasn’t enough of an ass to tell him, now that the tea was in front of them, that she preferred hers without sugar. Once the waiter left with their dinner orders, Sykes poured tea into the small, Japanese-style teacups for them both. His fingers were broad and wide around the delicate blue porcelain. Very masculine, very strong.
Aisha swallowed and looked away. This was a complication she didn’t need. She cleared her throat and put the tea to her lips.
Hmm. Not bad. The sweetness was light and added to the aroma of lavender and mint that rose from the small cup. It wasn’t exactly what she’d call tranquility in a cup but it tasted just like what she needed. Aroma and flavor combined perfectly with each sip.
“Okay, Mr. CEO.” The fine gold rings on her fingers winked in the light as she put down her teacup. “Since you’re so set on telling me no, can you at least let me know the reason you don’t want this building built?”
“It’s personal.” His low voice was deep, its sensual registers rippling over her senses despite her determination to treat him as the enemy.
“If it’s so personal, why have you let it affect this business decision?” She gave him back a raised eyebrow. “Because, make no mistake, this decision you’ve made has impacted my business life in a very dangerous way.”
“Aren’t you being a little dramatic here?”
“Uh-uh. You don’t get to minimize what’s important in my life, Mr. CEO.”
His abyss-dark eyes looked into hers. They were so intent that she wanted to look away but forced herself to face him unflinchingly.
“That’s not my name, Ms. Clark.”
“I know very well what your name is, Mr. Sykes.” His name was on the prize she wanted—no, the prize she needed. Even now that name was on her résumé, waiting to be erased.
“That’s not my name, either. It’s Roman. The name my mother gave me.”
Damn. Why did he have to mention his mother?
“Okay, Roman.” Unable to help herself, she licked her lips, enjoying the intimate feel of his name in her mouth. “In that case, the name my friends and enemies call me is Aisha. Can you at least do me the courtesy of telling me why you’re doing this?”
“Okay, Aisha,” he parroted back at her.
His large hand picked up the teacup but he didn’t drink. He shifted the cup to the other hand and then finally took a sip. The cup thudded gently against the table when he set it down.
“My mother is the reason,” he finally said then frowned. “My father wanted to put her ashes somewhere in that monstrosity he approved. That’s not something she would have ever wanted for herself.”
>
Aisha bit her tongue. She wanted to bulldoze over him when he called her building a “monstrosity” but decided this wasn’t a point she wanted to argue. Not yet anyway.
“She only ever wanted to be free,” he continued. “Having her ashes trapped inside a building, no matter how nice-looking, is not her way.” He shook his head, his eyes briefly closing. “It wasn’t her way.”
The way he spoke about this mother made it seem as if she was still there with him, not gone nearly two years like the Wikipedia page had told her.
Earlier Aisha had thought that once she’d gathered herself she’d show Sykes—no, Roman—her design and convince him her building was still worthy of being built and supported by Sykes Global. But now she wasn’t so sure. She sighed softly in relief when the waiter came back with their food. A curried chicken salad on a bed of mixed spring greens for her and vegetarian banh mi for him.
She started to eat. “Oh, this is really good!” Not the biggest fan of Asian food, she’d assumed that the curry chicken salad would be the safest thing for her to eat but the flavors brought out in the curry, with raisins and the surprising hazelnuts, made it the best chicken dish she’d eaten in a long time. “Really, really good.”
A low chuckle left Roman’s lips and she dipped her head to stop staring at their sensual shape as he slowly chewed a bite from his sandwich. When did a man chewing his food become sexy?
“Well, okay then!” She felt like an idiot with her nonsensical words that should’ve stayed stuffed in her mouth along with the food. This man was turning her emotions all kinds of upside down.
Aisha dove into her food while the remains of their tea stayed hot on the single flame, which looked just like a tea light to her, built into the elegant tray supporting the pale green iron pot. The food was good and the scent of the tea in her cup rose around her. The restaurant itself smelled like something peaceful and she didn’t fully appreciate its calming properties until she noticed how much more relaxed Roman seemed.
In a drool-worthy three-piece suit, his body was a loose invitation in the chair, the shape of his lips a match to the lines of laughter around his eyes. Even after she’d sat and started harassing him.
The CEO's Dilemma ; Undeniable Passion Page 4