by Leslie North
"I needed to get back sooner than expected," he replied. "There was something pressing that I needed to attend to. It couldn't wait."
Their conversation paused awkwardly as they continued to take one another in. Trinity wondered how she must appear: tired, her tawny hair flat against a face already tinged with the glow of sunburn. Her makeup had likely all but vanished by now
"Can I sit down?" She surprised herself by being the first to break the silence.
Sam rose and pulled a stool out for her. Trinity nodded in mute thanks and sat down. Her fingers wrapped around the Manhattan before she could direct them otherwise; she turned it around and around as Sam settled in again beside her.
"I read your memo," he said.
Trinity nodded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't really thinking when I sent it. I know you don't like long memos, I was just...stuck in L.A. traffic. And bored." And thinking about you.
"I save every memo you send me," he replied. "I have ever since we first started working together at the agency."
Trinity rocked back in her stool as if blown by a sudden strong wind. She blinked, but Sam's expression remained as serious as the grave. "...what?" She gave a helpless laugh as his words finally touched home. "I had no idea!"
"I know it's sentimental." Sam stared at his own Manhattan, looking sheepish as it rotated on its coaster.
Trinity shook her head. "No. I promise I'm not laughing because of that. It's just that...I save all of yours, too."
They lapsed into a more comfortable silence than before. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam's grimace twist upward in a little half-smile.
"So. Why did you come back early?" she prodded. "Was Eddie driving you crazy?"
"No more than usual. Mainly I was driving myself crazy," Sam admitted. "Thinking about you. Thinking about how I left things between us...again."
He turned in his stool to face her, and Trinity reciprocated his posture instinctively. It was impossible for her to keep an emotional wall up between them anymore. She couldn't deny the effect seeing him now had on her. She still loved him with all her heart.
His knee brushed against hers, and Trinity didn't draw back. "I've decided to stay in L.A.," he said finally. "I have a different perspective on things here now. If I took another job, I'd just be running away from it all again. I need to learn to adapt, and I've decided there's no better place to master that skill than out here on the West Coast. I need to learn to put up with a little discomfort and remain in pursuit of what I want."
Trinity's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure? But you hate L.A.," she reminded him. "You were never shy in the past about making that known. In fact, I thought leaving here was your entire goal!"
"My goal was to be with you." Sam's hand came between them to catch hers. Trinity couldn't deny how good it felt to be seized by him, to be held, with no hesitance or calculation. They had struggled to find a working medium all along, when the reality was she could never be in Sam's vicinity without yearning for him. She loved him just as much as she always had, if not more, considering all they had been through together up to this point.
"Really? I was your goal?" She almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Not...not the onboarding? Not getting yourself out of the doghouse with William and moving on to a better location?"
"Trinity, the moment you walked into that waiting room in New York, I knew what I had come back for." Sam's serious eyes caught and held hers, and Trinity knew he wasn't finessing the timeframe. What he told her now was the honest truth. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize it. And longer to articulate it even after that."
Trinity sat back on her stool a little and didn't let go of his hand. "And just what was it you were meaning to 'articulate', Sam?"
"That I love you," he said. "I always have, and I still do. I can't help but love you, Trinity. And I think now, no matter what your answer is, I always will."
"My answer?" She could scarcely find the breath to form the words. "To what question?"
"Do you want to live here in Los Angeles?" he asked. He drew her closer to him, with none of the usual stiffness that accompanied his formality. "Do you want to make the West Coast a permanent home?"
"With you?" She asked hopefully. Sam didn't so much as hesitate before nodding. "But I thought…"
"It doesn't matter what coast I'm on. If you're not there, I'm going to find a reason to hate it," he said. "Europe would have been nice, and if I didn't have you, I might still consider the move. But…" Sam's throat worked as he swallowed, and he appeared to carefully weigh his next words. "...I've changed. My priorities have changed. The job in Europe might have been a great fit for the old Sam, but it's not a good fit for...the man I want to be. I need compromise, and improvisation, and surprises. That's where real success, and real innovation, comes from. I've realized life isn't worth living without it. I've realized life isn't worth living without you."
Trinity gave a fluttering little laugh of approval. She couldn't help it—this was the last thing she had ever expected to hear from Sam, and her pulse wouldn't steady itself. The moment she lived in felt like a dream, and she never wanted to leave it. "I just signed a lease on a one-bedroom, you know," she said as she shifted off her own stool and joined him on his. Somehow, Sam managed to make room for her.
"One bed is all we need," he replied. He propped their joined arms up on the table and squeezed her hand. "I mean, just look at what we can manage with one stool."
She chuckled. "No broom closets?"
His eyes sparked. "The occasional broom closet," he allowed.
Trinity squeezed his hand in return. "I'll take that as your consent to the idea that I may drag you out to the occasional ballroom dance lesson."
"Only if you consent to kiss me," he said.
"I think a successful negotiation has been reached," Trinity replied as she leaned in. The curve of her smile met his as they sealed the deal.
Chapter Twelve
Sam
"I can't do this," Trinity muttered. "I was up all night and now I can't do this. I'm running on fumes, Sam."
Six months later, the two of them stood together in the hallway outside the L.A. office's conference room looking in. Through the window, Sam could see William making small talk with his associates as he settled himself at the head of the long table. A silver carafe of free-trade coffee and a plate of gluten-free muffins sat untouched in the middle of it all. "What are you talking about?" he asked her under his breath. He didn't take his eyes from the scene they were about to walk into, and neither did Trinity. "Of course you can do this."
Trinity straightened her shoulders with a little shimmy. "Of course I can do this," she echoed.
"Pitching our first project in Australia to the company heads is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"Opportunity," she repeated.
"And whether we succeed now or fall flat on our faces," Sam said gravely, "you better believe we're getting the hell out of this office to grab a drink afterward."
"It is five o'clock in New York," Trinity said.
"You see?" He shifted a strand of hair back from her neck. "Work day's almost over. You got this."
Her fingers came up to momentarily cement his hand in place. Sam relished their brief physical connection, and took as much comfort from it as he was certain Trinity took. He couldn't play down how big a moment this was, and he knew she didn't expect him to. They were equal partners in this adventure. They had planned and performed their presentation for each other for months; now, it was time to show the agency that the two of them were ready to move forward together as a team to consult with the other Jameson branches worldwide. Australia was just the first stop on their list.
But they weren't going to get there without opening this door first.
Trinity swallowed, and nodded infinitesimally. Sam withdrew his hand and pushed the door open.
"Sam. Trinity. Welcome." William offered them both a curt nod and professional smile as they entered, but Sam thou
ght he could also see a quiet spark of approval in his brother's eyes. "And thank you again for giving this presentation. Feel free to help yourself to coffee, and we're ready whenever you are."
"No coffee necessary, thank you, William," Trinity said as she unfolded her laptop. "Your guys on the West Coast have already got me hopelessly addicted. I'm practically mainlining it every morning at this point just to keep up."
The associates laughed with surprise at her joke, and the tension in the room seemed to immediately give way to a more relaxed anticipation. Taking a page out of Eddie's icebreaker book, Sam thought approvingly. Trinity always adapted herself to an audience more readily than he ever could.
"Hey, Trinity?"
Trinity turned to him. "Yeah, Sam?" Despite her effortless humor, she still sounded breathless with nerves.
Sam handed her his copy of the final schedule. As her fingers closed over it, he tugged her to him, and caught her lips in a kiss. When he pulled away, he saw the utter shock at his public display written all over her face.
"You're up first," he concluded with a grin.
Trinity's hazel eyes rounded. She nodded, and a wide smile slowly started to bloom across her face. If a part of her had suspected Sam would take the lead, he hoped the silent, confident encouragement of his lips had just put that private fear to bed. This may have been their collaboration, and he was giving her the reins. As he turned to take a seat, he saw William's slight nod, and wondered if he had just inadvertently passed another test. Whatever strings his brother was pulling behind the scenes of the company, Sam attributed his personal growth to one person and one person alone. For the first time in his life he was completely confident, and completely satisfied, with taking a backseat.
He settled himself in to watch the woman he loved run the show.
End of The Billionaire’s Ex-Wife
Jameson Brothers Book One
PS: Do you love alpha males? Then keep reading for an exclusive excerpt from The Billionaire’s Tenacious Boss.
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BLURB
Stephen Maxfield has the chance to save the business his father built, and only one woman stands in his way.
With Duncan Enterprises crumbling, Stephen Maxfield knows that a lucrative building contract could be the ticket to saving the family company. He’s always been regarded as the unpredictable brother, and this time is no different. He’s prepared to do what he thinks is right—even if it means ousting his own father. Stephen faces another obstacle, however, in the form of Angelia Lopez, the gorgeous Duncan VP with her own plans to save the company.
Angie Lopez has been groomed as Duncan’s successor, and she’s convinced that selling off pieces of the company is the way to save it. She’s busy making deals to break apart the business, while hoping that it brings together the Maxfield family. But when she comes up against Stephen Maxfield—all six feet eight inches of him—she’ll have to work harder than ever to keep her focus. Angie’s been burned by men in the past, and Stephen sets her aflame.
Stephen has no time for romance, and Angie is on a dating time-out. But if the two can see beyond their business plans, they just may find they’re the perfect match.
Grab your copy of The Billionaire’s Tenacious Boss from www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
EXCERPT
She was attractive. There was no doubt about that. Her dark hair was pulled tightly up in a bun, and Stephen wondered what she would do if he reached out and raked his hands through it, pulling out all the pins. He wanted to know how long her hair was. Would it sweep past her shoulders? Swing down to the small of her back? Brush all the way down to that luscious…
“Is there a problem?”
His eyes snapped back up, and he realized that her dark eyes were staring intently at him. There was a hint of temper in her voice, but it was controlled.
“No ma’am,” he said politely with a smile. “Just lost in thought.” He wasn’t at all ashamed of the fact that she’d caught him staring at her.
Her eyes narrowed, but she turned back around again. He knew that she could see him reflected in the gleam of the elevator doors, so he kept his eyes from straying again. She was simply a small distraction from what was really weighing on his mind. Part of him couldn’t believe he was in San Francisco again. Duncan had called, and he’d come running. It was pathetic.
There was something nostalgic about riding in the elevator again. He’d enjoyed more than one woman in this elevator when he was younger. His eyes flickered up at the camera and he smiled to himself. He’d given the security officers quite the show. What would the lone woman riding with him do if he pushed her up against the wall and pressed his lips to hers?
She was dressed in a gray blazer and a skirt that showed off her tanned legs. Conservative. Business-appropriate. She was more than likely a secretary or a receptionist. Good old Duncan did like them young and pretty.
“You do realize that I can see you, right?” she demanded. Stephen smiled as his eyes snapped up again. She hadn’t even bothered to turn around, and he met her look in the distorted reflection.
“I’m sorry,” he said easily. “You’re a nice distraction.”
She turned around and leaned against the wall, deliberately easing her gaze up and down his body. He grinned unabashedly. “There’s nothing wrong with a little distraction every now and then,” she said softly. “I’ve always wanted to know what kind of tools you construction workers carried in your tool belt. Are you all talk?”
She thought he was a construction worker? Well, he was dressed in jeans and a work shirt. “That depends on what kind of tools you’re looking for,” he said in a husky voice as he stepped closer towards her.
Lifting her chin, she smiled coyly at him. “I’ve always had a thing for a man in a hard hat.”
“Come by my room later tonight, and I’ll show you every hard thing I have.”
When he was inches from her, she tossed back her head and laughed. “God. You men are so easy.” The doors opened, and she nimbly stepped outside. “Have a nice day. I hope you looked your fill.”
He stood in the elevator for a moment, stunned. Quickly, he realized this was his floor too, and he hopped out before the door closed.
Her heels clacked on the tile floor as he followed her. Out of curiosity, he stayed a few steps behind her. If she was on this floor, she was, no doubt, closer to being Duncan’s personal assistant than a simple secretary. But this meeting was only for the Board. So what was she doing here?
“What are you doing? That wasn’t anything serious,” she hissed as she whirled around.
“It wasn’t?” he asked innocently.
“No. And you shouldn’t be up here. Are you lost?”
Was he lost? Well wasn’t that an interesting turn. “Maybe,” he said casually. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be up here?”
Her features relaxed. “I’m sorry. I’m a little high-strung today. This floor is for VP members only. We have an important business meeting in the works. If you let me know who you’re waiting for, I can help direct you to the right place.”
“I have a meeting with Gabe Maxfield,” he said with a straight face.
“Ah. Well Mr. Maxfield will be preoccupied in the meeting for a while. You’re welcome to w
ait by his office, or I can let him know that you’d like to reschedule, Mr.…?”
“Maxfield,” he said with a smile.
Frustration flashed across her face. “Yes, I know you’re waiting on Mr. Maxfield. You know what, I’m sure Gabe will realize his mistake, and he’ll be in touch with you as soon as the meeting is over. On behalf of Duncan Enterprises, I apologize for the inconvenience.”
She had the power to apologize for the inconvenience? This was getting more and more interesting by the moment. She flashed him a small smile before spinning on her heels and moving faster. She must have realized that she was late.
At the end of the corridor, she pushed aside the glass doors. Through the panes, Gabe caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. Stephen hadn’t actually called to announce he would be attending. The truth was, Gabe wasn’t sure if Stephen was coming or not.
The woman rounded on him. “I thought I made it clear. This is a private meeting,” she said as she slapped her hands on his chest.
“Is it now? And you’re invited to this private meeting?” he asked as he cocked his head.
“Of course I’m invited,” she snapped. “I’m Angela Lopez, the Senior VP of the company. Do I need to call security?”
Surprised, his eyes looked back up to Gabe. Everyone was staring at them. “Of course, you are,” he agreed with obvious reluctance. “Well, you should probably take a seat, Ms. Angela Lopez, Senior VP. It looks like everyone is waiting for you.”
“And I will sit down as soon as you leave!”