I find Jamie at the Keurig, making herself a cup of French roast. She’s shaking down a green packet of stevia when I walk up behind her.
“Good morning,” I say.
Jamie jumps a little, surprised to see me. Her face registers awkwardness, and my stomach drops. Apparently the weird air between us isn’t going anywhere on its own.
“Morning,” she says.
“Who was that you were talking to earlier?” I ask. “A client?”
“No. He’s …” She sighs. “Have you talked to Simon yet?”
“I haven’t seen him around.” I look toward his office, but Jamie shakes her head in my peripheral vision.
“No, no, he’s down in the lobby.”
She doesn’t say it in the way she might if Simon went on an errand. She says it like “the lobby” is Simon’s assigned post.
“Why is he in the lobby?”
Jamie is looking past me, toward the bullpen. People are starting to gather for the meeting. I can’t remember the last time we had a full-group meeting.
Jamie leans in and whispers. “Don’t be pissed at me, okay?”
“Why would I be pissed at you?”
“Don’t shoot the messenger, is all I’m saying. I’m just looking out for you. Trying to, anyway.”
I feel bad that she’s so gun shy. Jamie’s my friend, and now I’ve made her skittish, like I’m going to bite her head off. I can’t blame her.
“What’s going on?”
“Someone bought the company.”
At first I don’t understand. “What?”
Rather than answer this rather simple question (People do buy things and you shouldn’t be surprised by it, says my rational mind), Jamie takes me by the upper arm, flicks her eyes around, and drags me the short distance back to my office. Inside, she turns the spindle beside the big window to close the blinds, shutting down my view of the bullpen .
“Jamie. What’s up with you?”
“Maybe you should tell me the same. What’s up with you, Mia?”
“Nothing is up with me.”
“Nothing?”
“No, nothing. What’s going on?”
“I came in early to try and get a bit more done on the Ace file before deadline. Simon was the only one here, and he was in his office, packing up.”
“Why?”
“I told you. Someone bought the company.” She hesitates before saying someone, and it makes me think that she’s only being vague for my benefit. She knows who that someone is.
I don’t know why my skin is crawling.
“How wouldn’t we know about this? You don’t buy a company like you buy a cup of coffee.”
“Simon said it happened fast. Just the past week or so. He told me a lot of stuff I didn’t understand, about loans and land contracts, that I suppose was him trying to explain it. ‘It’s not really a sale,’ he said, like he thought I was accusing him of trying to get away with something.”
“I … who the hell would buy the company? Was it Aeon?”
Jamie shakes her head. Assuming that our largest competitor would have bought Simon out makes sense, but Jamie’s shake tells me it’s what she’d have thought, too … but that no, something far less sensible has happened. It’s half negation, half bafflement.
“No. It’s …” She looks at me sideways. Like she doesn’t want to say.
“Is that who you were talking to in your office? The new owner?”
“Yes. But … honestly, Mia, I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t want you to overreact. According to Aiden, this sort of makes sense, them buying the company for strategic reasons. This can’t be all about you. It wouldn’t make sense to buy a company because …” Again she trails off.
“All about me? Why would I think Simon selling the company had anything to do with me?”
“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t think it does. But Mia, I’m worried that you might think …” She glances around the closed office as chatter passes by outside. “And I mean, it’s almost sensible for you to jump to conclusions. In your shoes, hell, I’d probably think that …” Another reset. “But the timing doesn’t work. There’s just no way. That was only a few days ago!”
“What was only a few days ago!” I shout it more than ask. She’s freaking me out. Talking in circles, clearly afraid I’ll draw a conclusion she doesn’t want drawn. But the vagueness of this conversation is making my hair stand on end. I sense bad news on the horizon, and she’s acting like delaying my knowing will solve the problem … whatever that might be.
Something punches me in the brain. Something Jamie said is just now slotting into place.
Aiden.
I know an Aiden — well, know of an Aiden.
“Who’s Aiden?” I say.
Jamie’s eyes dart toward the door.
“Jamie?”
“Urban Design’s new owner.” She swallows. “One of them.”
“Aiden who?”
“Aiden Page.”
Onyx’s partner in Forage. And she said one of the new owners.
I almost stop breathing. “What are you saying?”
Jamie opens her mouth. Her brown eyes have become tiny frightened animals, darting back and forth. She looks like she might be about to speak, but there’s a knock and my office door opens before I can respond. The bullpen is well-lit by comparison, and opening the door, even with the morning sun through my window, is like rolling a rock from the mouth of a cave.
There’s a man there, the man from earlier. The one Jamie was talking to, the one that now owns Urban Design. Aiden. One half of the brains behind Forage.
He’s still wearing his gray suit and white shirt, but no tie. He’s ruggedly handsome and hasn’t bothered to shave his morning stubble. His big hand stays on the doorknob, and his light blue eyes brighten when he sees me.
“We’re ready in the conference room, Jamie,” he says.
Jamie gives me a look that’s somewhere between warning and apologetic, then sneaks past Aiden and into the bullpen.
He looks at me and offers a a sideways smile. It would be logical to introduce himself or say hello, but he does neither. I move toward him, so I can join the meeting, too. But before I’m halfway there, he steps out and allows the door to close, shutting me in my office.
Asshole, I think.
I move toward the door and reach out my hand, but the knob turns before I can touch it.
The door opens. It’s not Aiden who’s there this time.
It’s his partner — the second half of the Forage duo the whole world knows, but that my mind hasn’t cottoned onto until now: Onyx.
Here, in my office, with the blinds closed.
He shuts the door.
And, reaching back to press the button in the center of the knob, he locks it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MIA
“Get out of my office,” I say.
But Onyx doesn’t budge.
There’s a small moment of seeming indecision, but then he steps forward. He’s not holding flowers. He’s not asking for anything, least of all my forgiveness. He doesn’t say a word. He looks me over, top to bottom. Assessing me. It’s as if our last fight on the street was a warm-up, and he’s here for the rematch. He looks like an opponent who’s analyzed his past failures and aggressively trained to crush them.
Whatever this encounter is, Onyx comes at me like a man intending to win.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said to get out!”
“I don’t want to get out.”
His voice is velvet. My heart beats faster. Just hearing him sends my body into an adrenaline response, but it’s nonspecific enough to be embarrassing. Instead of priming me to fight, the adrenaline stiffens my nipples. Instead of mobilizing my legs to run, the stress response makes what lies between them wet. It’s like my biology knows stimulation, but not the difference between negative arousal and the kind that feels a little too good.
Am I really so conditioned? Do I truly have no will
of my own, once I’m in this man’s presence?
“I don’t want you here.”
“I guess that’s the difference between us, Mia. I do want you. Here.”
It could mean anything. He seemed to hesitate between “you” and “here,” but that’s probably my imagination. This isn’t the Onyx Scott he became while we were apart; this is more like the asshole Onyx I knew back when we were kids, the guy who was always making me feel good before making me feel awful. This isn’t the Internet giant from all those Forage interviews. This is the man who used to rip my clothes off when we were together — who always met my anger with a kiss.
“I’m leaving.” I head for the door, but my legs are heavy. My head is in a fog. It’s like a dream, with my feet held by tar. Of course I want to get away from this monster. He betrayed me again and again and again, no matter how many times I went back to him. So why am I so drawn to him now?
Onyx reaches out and places his hand flat on the door, holding it shut. He fixes me with a gaze. His stare melts me. I feel nude before him, and my mind recalls the dream. I don’t want to think of Onyx like that. It was how we were best — just bodies, no brains or hearts. I almost thought he loved me once. I was wrong. But desire me? That, I never doubted.
I hate that I’m rising to his unspoken challenge. I hate that, rather than knocking him out of the way like I did on the street, I’m attracted now by his stubborn refusal. He doesn’t want to let me go, and a small part of me wants to stay.
Damn him.
And damn me.
“I’m your boss now,” Onyx says.
“You’re not my boss.”
“Forage bought the company.”
“Well, I’m not for sale.”
“Don’t be proud, Mia. You made it clear you didn’t want to talk. You wouldn’t even let me apologize.”
I laugh. Apologize.
“But if you’d stop and think for a second, maybe you’d see that this isn’t all about you. You’d see that maybe the entire fucking world doesn’t revolve around you.”
He comes closer. My back hits the wall. He isn’t pinning me, but I feel pinned all the same. Maybe I could walk around him. But the way he stands over me, part of me is unwilling to try.
“Did you ever consider that maybe I was coming to see you because I knew we’d end up working together and didn’t want things to be awkward?”
“I told you. You can’t just buy me off.” I’m puffing up my chest, but I feel so inadequate. All this posturing is probably drawing attention to my inappropriately erect nipples.
“And I told you to think, how could we possibly acquire your company ‘to buy you off’ in just a few days?”
“Jamie said it was a loan, or a land contract. Not a sale.” But I’m talking out my ass.
Before me, Onyx seems so strong and certain. “This was in the works from the start. We need architects and engineers to build the Forage Education campus, and we weren’t willing to wait in line. This company has tons of potential but we practically stole it. Your old boss? Not the greatest negotiator.”
I watch Onyx’s eyes. He’s so different from the way he was on the street. I thought I’d bested him then, but now I wonder if I was wrong. Is he telling the truth — that Forage acquired Urban Design first and Onyx only came to try and make nice after, knowing it’d be awkward? It can’t be right. But it’s hard for me to imagine challenging him now — hard to imagine saying no to Onyx at all, or keeping him from whatever he wants.
“Well,” I say, “I’m not going to work for you.”
“I’m in charge. Aiden is here for the meeting but then he’s flying back to Seattle. This is my office now. You will work for me, or find a new job.”
He looks right into my eyes. My soul. I don’t know how to feel. As hard as he’s facing me, I almost believe this is business — a superior challenging a troublemaking subordinate. But it’s hard to separate that from the Onyx I was in poisoned love with before. It’s hard not to remember him looking at me this way when he was inside me. When he made my body feel, and my heart bleed.
“You can’t do this,” I say.
“I have done this.”
“It’s not fair.”
“It’s just business.”
“Fuck you, Onyx.” I force back the moisture in my eyes. I will not cry. He’ll see it as weakness, when in fact it’s fury. Liquid rage, coming in a wave of undifferentiated emotion.
He takes a step. There’s less than a foot between us. My pulse is in my neck. In my throat. Behind my eyes. Everything is blood and throbbing. I can barely see straight, and I don’t even know why. There’s an energy between us. A force that attracts as it repels.
Slowly, he shakes his head.
“This isn’t going to work.”
I look up. I don’t know what he means or where he’s going.
“This isn’t going to work, is it, Mia? You and me, working together. I thought we could move on. I’d hoped we could. I know your reputation. You’re incredibly talented.”
I blink, waiting. The truth is, Onyx got me into this field. He shaped my education and my future. Encouraged me, between bouts of pain. He was good for my mind but bad for my heart. He was good in my life, if he could only have stopped destroying me. I’m not surprised he thinks I’m talented, or that he’s researched me enough to know. In both good and bad ways, I’m his creation — the monster he made through act and thought and deed.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, “on this project.”
I swallow.
“But if you say you won’t work for me—”
I respond without thinking. “I won’t work for you.”
If there’s a way out, I’m taking it. I’m not a slave. My hand isn’t forced. I don’t want to work for him. And never mind the inappropriate wetness in my panties, or the way I’ve noticed the rippling muscle beneath his shirt. I can’t help responding to this man after the way he once made me feel. I’m not guilty. This is only biology.
“Don’t answer so quickly. Emotion is crowding your logic. You love your job, Mia — and a challenge.”
It’s true. But fuck him if he thinks I’ll work for Forage. I can’t take it. I can’t live like this.
I say nothing.
“You’re being emotional, but this shouldn’t be an emotional decision.”
I see his earnestness. I see him wanting me to make the right choice. Maybe even trying to move on. But I’m stuck in the past.
I hate him.
I want him.
And no good can come from either, no matter the logical opportunity Forage presents.
“I …” Softening, knowing it’s a mistake, I say, “I just can’t.”
He watches me. I melt. I don’t know why, or why it’s happening now … but I’ve never wanted a man more than I want Onyx in this moment — and damn the consequences.
He sighs and turns around, his back to me. I think he’s going to head for the door, but instead his hands move, rearranging something in front of him. I hear clinks. Then shuffling. But I can’t make sense of any of it, with all this lust claiming my mind.
“Sit down.” Still facing away from me, he nods toward the chair beside my desk.
“Talking won’t solve anything. I’m out. My answer is no.”
“The problem,” Onyx says, as if he hasn’t heard me, “isn’t that your answer is no. The problem is that your answer is yes. You still want me, Mia. I can see it in the way you breathe. I can see it in the way your nipples are poking through your blouse. You might be able to fool someone else, but you can’t fool me. I know how you are when you’re turned on. I know what you look like, when your body’s begging for me to make you come.”
At first I can’t speak. I want to shout him down, but it takes a few seconds to form words. Horribly, he’s right. I know the first thing I’ll need to do after I kick him out is to lock myself in this office, slip my fingers inside my dripping wet panties, and finish what Onyx started.
“We can’t move on,” Onyx says, “with you feeling this way.”
I lick my lips. I’m glad he can’t see me, because he might read unknown words on my face. He might see the way I’m watching him. He might imagine what I’m thinking, what I’m recalling from our shared past. He might see the way I’m standing: still with my legs anchored, because I’m afraid that just the movement of my clothing will brush me wrong — or right — and send me into uncontrollable, helpless bliss.
“You need to go,” I tell Onyx. But it comes out weak. I can barely talk.
“I said to sit.” He turns his head but not his body, stares me down until I finally move forward. Every step is hesitant, as if I’m carrying nitroglycerine.
I sit in the chair.
I look up. He’s unbuckled his belt and unzipped his slacks. His thick cock is out, hard and seeping pre-cum.
“Not on the chair. I meant sit up on the desk, and spread your legs.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ONYX
Mia looks at me like she doesn’t understand. Or rather, she looks at me like she doesn’t want to understand, but very much does anyway.
I look at her, my cock hard and wanting. I fight for sense. None comes.
I thought maybe this could be handled differently. Aiden made his plans — and in doing so, made some for me. After I failed to patch things up with Mia my way, he shoved his way in, as usual.
The worst part is, it’s not a bad plan. Urban Design was mismanaged, and negotiating our quickie deal with the owner, to force things, was far easier than I’ve led Mia to believe. The truth is that we can use the talent, and if Education ends up getting built in the Falls, having our own architecture firm is far more efficient than dealing with outsiders.
Worst case scenario, we let the option expire and drop it back in Simon’s lap. There’s no way to lose.
Trillionaire Boys' Club: The Internet Giant Page 8