Con Man

by Amy Brent

  “These are the three designs for the luxury hotel in the Bahamas. Now, I know the two biggest questions are ‘what makes this one different?’ and ‘what kind of money will it make me?’ So, now is the time to pay attention.”

  I flipped to the first slide and showed them all the things that today’s luxury hotels provide.

  “Here are the columns of two of our main competitors. As you can see, they are all-inclusive resorts with all the accoutrements, if you will. Spas, salons, bars, pools, lazy rivers, internet, hotel suites in one-two-and-three bedroom styles, California-king sized bed, the works. They sell packages that they discount during the year, where you can come, pay one massive upfront fee that will run even the average vacationer into the thousands of dollars, and then they never have to leave the hotel. Sounds nice, right?”

  “I’d do it,” someone said.

  “Oh, honey. We’d all do it if we could,” I said, winking. “But, there are still many things that people complain about that are never fixed.”

  The next slide scrolled through complaint after complaint that had been filed over the years from our competitors. Everything from terrible towels to not having packages that included room service to individual room service being so damn expensive to not having packages where they could tailor-make their stay.

  “You see the dates on all these complaints?” I asked.

  “They span over years,” an investor said.

  “Exactly, and since they won’t fix it, we will.”

  I continued on through my presentation and showed them all we would fix. I walked them through the three main design plans of each blueprint, showed them the cost breakdown of everything and how ‘fixing’ the complaints would only cost us another $4,000 each year, which we would more than make back by offering the ability for the average vacationer to build a vacation at a luxury resort they could afford.

  And all the while, L had his stare locked onto me.

  “So, which blueprint are we going with?” someone asked.

  “Well, with permission from Mr. James, I have an idea for that,” I said.

  “And what would this surprise idea be, Miss Simpson?” he asked.

  “I’m glad you asked that, handsome,” I said, winking. “What I was thinking is this—since all three of these setups have been vetted by the fire department and the proper safety and security channels, I figured we could have the investors take a vote.”

  “A vote?” he asked.

  “A vote. It would show us where our investors lean in terms of design, and it would help you make your overall final decision.”

  “I like her,” someone murmured.

  “She is a spitfire,” L said.

  “So, what do you think?” I asked him.

  “I think… that everyone sitting at this table—including you, Miss Simpson—should write down which design layout they enjoy the most and hand it to me before you leave. The blueprints are in the folders sitting in front of you.”

  They had been so entranced with my presentation that none of them had even opened the folders in front of them. The last-minute questions and the ironing out of the details took almost three solid hours, but by the time everyone was satisfied and had cast their vote on which blueprint layout they enjoyed, all eighteen investors that agreed to meet signed their end of the paperwork. As far as financial weeks went, this was going to be the most lucrative of the entire year, and when I locked gazes with L, his bright smiled warmed my heart.

  He was fucking proud of himself, and he should have been.

  “Gentleman, it’s been a pleasure,” he said. “I promise your money will be put to good use, and I will have this paperwork faxed over, notarized, and immediately put into our system. Gentleman, welcome to the world of luxury.”

  “Mr. James, if you royally fuck up and this woman quits, you send her my way,” one investor said.

  “And if she royally fucks up and you fire her, send her my way anyway,” another one said.

  “Gentleman, gentleman. There’s plenty enough to go around if you’re willing to pay up,” I said, winking.

  “And she’s a shark!” someone else exclaimed. “Be still my beating heart.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle at their remarks as everyone slowly trickled out of the room. It took them another hour to exit, with everyone wanting to talk to L before they parted left, and it gave me time to sit down and catch my breath. My feet were killing me and my hands were still shaking from the adrenaline rush. I so hoped that I had impressed my boss enough to keep me, despite my less-than-professional attack last night.

  “You were fantastic,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling. “Listen, about last night—”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said.

  “You know, the incident at my—”

  “Charlie, I can assure you I remember no such thing,” he said. I realized then that he was giving me an out. My presentation had impressed him so much that he was willing to completely erase what had happened last night, and my heart leapt for joy at the fact that I hadn’t just lost my job.

  “Then forgive my faulty memory,” I said.

  “Forgiven, though you should get that checked out when we get home,” he said, grinning. “Now, what are your plans for dinner?”

  “Room service and pajamas. You?” I asked.

  “Asking the initiator of my success out for a celebratory dinner,” he said.

  “Ah, and what should the initiator of such a wonderful monetary success say to this invitation?” I asked.

  “I would hope she would say ‘hell yes’ and save the pajamas for another time,” he said.

  “I suppose room service could wait,” I said.

  “Perfect.”

  Chapter 7

  Ellison

  I wanted to take her somewhere that I thought would impress her. There was a traditional gourmet Finnish restaurant up the way that I directed the limo driver to, but honestly think of anything but how beautiful Charlie looked and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The bright red top she wore accented her deep green eyes, and holy fuck, her curves looked amazing in the pants she was wearing, the high waist style was beautiful on her. Her thighs called to me as we sat side-by-side in the limo, and I watched her as she watched the snow, still fascinated by it.

  “Enjoying Finland?” I asked.

  “The snow is beautiful. I think I might come back sometime, and maybe get snowed in,” she said.

  “Make sure you get a fire going,” I said.

  “And maybe a good book. Oh! And a blanket,” she added.

  “Sounds comfortable,” I said.

  Just like my thick dick sinking into her slick pussy.

  I shook the thought from my mind and redirected myself to the task at hand. She was my fucking employee and I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. I took Mike out all the time whenever we won over shit like this. The celebratory dinner was a tradition in the business world, and nothing more.

  But holy hell, Mike didn’t have the kinds of curves she did. Or a vagina, but that’s beside the point.

  I figured this place would impress her. After all, every woman wanted to be wined and dined, right? But, the moment we walked into the place, I saw Charlie crinkle her nose at the atmosphere.

  “You alright?” I asked.

  “I’ll need a flashlight to get through this place,” she said.

  I smirked at her comment as the hostess seated us. She found us a table for two in back, with dancing candlelight on the dinner table and a silk cloth that draped to the floor. The window beside us was tinted with snow gathering along the outside sill, and Charlie lost herself once again in the falling snow.

  That is, until the waiter showed up at the table.

  “Good evening, Mr. James. I hear it has been a wonderful day for you. Might I interest you in our wine list?”

  “Thank you very much,” I said. “Charlie, is there any specific type of wine you enjoy? Maybe
the Chateau Ste Michelle, or maybe a nice Château Margaux?”

  “I don’t know, you choose, I’m a boxed Franzia kinda gal,” she said.

  I snickered and almost spat out my water as I watched the waiter turn up his nose.

  “Was that, um—what did you call it?—boxed wine?” the waiter asked.

  “It is! The red if you’ve got it,” she said, smiling.

  “We don’t carry ‘boxed wine’ here, madam,” the waiter said.

  “Then the ‘Chatty Snail’ wine or whatever you called it is fine,” she said.

  I brought the wine list to my lips and started laughing into it. Her eyes were sparkling with the frustration she was pulling from the waiter, and I realized then and there that I’d pay whatever thousands of dollars I needed to just to listen to her have a go at that man again. Her wit was astounding and she wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she knew nothing about places like this, and it was incredibly refreshing to be with a woman who, for once, didn’t know shit about this type of lifestyle.

  She shrugged when the waiter huffed away, and I doubled over laughing when she called after him.

  “And bring me a flashlight when you can! I think your lights are broken in here!”

  “Charlie, you’ve never been in a restaurant like this, have you?” I asked, after I was done laughing.

  “Nope, and I don’t get why people want to come. The wine is too expensive, I can’t see the menu in front of my face, the candles are a fire hazard, I have three too many forks and one too many spoons, and they never give me enough food. Have you seen this body? It takes work to upkeep these curves.”

  I had seen her body, and it was luscious at every twist and turn. Her eyes sparkled while she looked around the room, and I watched her while she took in her surroundings. She was just uncomfortable enough for me to know this wasn’t her scene, but she was courteous enough to not make us get up and walk out.

  And when her eyes landed on a couple beside us, I was glad we ended up staying.

  “You know, if that wedding ring on her finger wasn’t so big, I’d say they were on the worst first date of their lives,” she said.

  Looking over at the man who was scowling at the menu, I could see the woman was talking the waiter’s ear off.

  “I bet she’s making sure her dinner has no carbs, dairy, or gluten,” she said.

  “What’s there to eat if you can’t have those?” I asked.

  “Cardboard.”

  Stifling a snicker just as the man looked over at us, we managed to avert our gazes just in time. She did that the entire evening—picking out patrons who fit stereotypes she’d conjured in her mind while we washed down our small plates of food with the bottle of wine she’d chosen, having no idea it had cost me upwards of $3,000.

  “I gotta hand it to them, though, that chef can cook. These little portions are astoundingly good.”

  “They really are,” I said.

  “Now, if he could get me a to-go platter—that would really be great.”

  I snickered so hard I started choking on my food, and she slid my water towards me while she egged me on.

  “Don’t let it kill you! We didn’t order the cardboard! Don’t die in here! No one’s lowly enough to know CPR!”

  I coughed up the piece of meat I was choking on and brought my napkin to my face to cover my laughter. I had to get out of here with her before we truly embarrassed ourselves and got thrown out, so I was thankful when the waiter brought over the ticket for me to pay. All I did was hand him my card without even looking at the tab, and that’s when Charlie’s eyebrows hiked up onto her forehead.

  My sixth sense felt another jab coming on.

  “Don’t you dare,” I said.

  “I wasn’t gonna say a thing,” she said. “It would be nice for me to just throw plastic at lowly people and have them do shit for me without a care in the world.”

  “I didn’t throw it at him,” I said, “I handed it to him nicely.”

  “Oh, excuse me. It would be nice for me to daintily hand someone a nice slice of plastic before expecting them to do all the shit for me I wanted,” she said.

  “You’re insane,” I said.

  “And you haven’t stopped me yet,” she said, grinning.

  “Have a good evening, Mr. James,” he said.

  “Thank you for your service,” I said. I left the man a very nice tip for having to put up with us for two hours, but when we got back to the limo, I realized I didn’t really want my time with her to end. I couldn’t have my way with her body, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy her company.

  “Are you warm?” I asked.

  “That wine warmed me up, yes. Why?” she asked.

  “I figured maybe we could walk back to the hotel. It’s only five blocks up.”

  “Oh, a walk in the snow. How romantic. Sure, let’s do it. The last time I walked the streets of Helsinki I’m pretty sure most people thought I was a hooker.”

  I waved the limo off to the hotel and we started walking up the street. The street lamps played upon the snow falling to the ground and it cast a beautiful glow along the city and I watched Charlie get lost in the scenery. Storefronts were peppered with snowflakes and couples were walking hand in hand while trying to get out of the cold, and here we were walking down the street while she enjoyed snow for the very first time.

  She reminded me a lot of myself, honestly. Ambitious. Funny. Witty. Hard working. She knew what her worth was and wasn’t willing to settle for any less. She had all the makings of the shark I needed at my side during summits like this, and I knew Mike and I could use a woman on the team like that. Women didn’t understand the control they had in a boardroom. They complained about sexual harassment and how they needed to toe the line between flaunting their figures and being professional, but a businesswoman understood how to manipulate that aspect of her career.

  Successful businesswomen I’d encountered in my days knew how to dress professionally, but still keep an air of sexiness about them. It disarmed men whenever they walked into a room, and if they threw a little light flirtatious banter into the mix—like Charlie had during her presentation—any woman who wanted to be successful could have any man eating out of the palm of their hands.

  And holy hell, she looked sexy as fuck in those pants she was wearing.

  We walked silently side by side down the sidewalk until we came upon a live band playing in a pub. The music wafted out onto the sidewalk and I saw Charlie’s hips begin to sway deeper to the beat of the drums. Something inside me beckoned to get her into that bar. I wasn’t ready to let her go yet, not since I couldn’t breach the boundary I wanted to maintain with her, so I figured one last drink wouldn’t hurt.

  “Care to venture in and listen to the music?” I asked.

  “Can we do that?” she asked.

  “We can do anything we want,” I said. “We could take in a night cap and listen to the music that obviously has you so entranced.”

  “I’d like that, long as it’s not a lakka,” she said, grinning.

  I chuckled as I ushered her into the bar. The palm of my hand instantly migrated to the small of her back and I could feel her pull away from me. We immediately found our way to a booth with a waitress that was waiting to take our orders, and I got myself another glass of wine while Charlie ordered herself a nice hot Irish coffee.

  “Irish coffee in Finland. Who knew?” she asked.

  “They knew. You didn’t,” I said.

  “Ha, ha, ha,” she said.

  We got our drinks and bobbed our heads to the music, but I saw her pan her gaze back over to me. Her mesmerizing green eyes hooked onto me until I turned my gaze to her, and I knew the moment she drew in a deep breath through her nose she was going to apologize for last night.

  “Look, I know you brushed it off earlier, but I really do want to apologize for my behavior last night. It was incredibly inappropriate, and not at all how I conduct business,” she said.

  “Trust me
, last night had no bearing on how I thought you conducted business, and I promise you nothing’s wrong.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Positive.”

  The truth was I wanted to fuck her just as badly as she had wanted to fuck me last night, and the idea that she was sorry for something like that pissed me off. No woman had ever been sorry they’d hopped on this dick after it was done, and part of me reared my head deep within my stomach at the prospect that she thought I was a mistake.

  I was Ellison fucking James. No woman that slept with me felt it to be a mistake.

  “Would you like to dance?” I asked.

  “Wait, what?” she asked.

  “Dance with me,” I said. I was honestly surprised I asked her, but there was this deep-seated idea that Charlie actually thought I was a mistake. I took her hand within mine and pulled her close to me by the table, and the moment her tits pressed into my chest I felt something flutter against my sternum. Her wide green eyes danced, searing into mine, searching for signs of something she desperately wanted to be there, and I pressed her deeper into my body just so she understood exactly where I was coming from.

  She was a beautiful woman, and the apology that fell so easily from her lips pissed me off more than it comforted me. I didn’t want her to be sorry. I wanted her to be hooked. I wanted my body to fly across her mind as many times as those tits had appeared on the backs of my eyes. I wanted her to rub out orgasm after orgasm in the shower, just like I had to every single morning. This woman drove me wild, and for days I’d tried to fight her off. I tried to tell myself she was my employee and that I’d written the handbook on what was appropriate when it came to interoffice relationships.