Infatuation

by Anise Storm

  “You seem to be preoccupied,” he stated, after setting his empty plate into the sink. “If you’re still tired, you should go back to bed and rest. It might be the only time that you’ll get any sleep in one now.”

  Thinking about being back in his bed, pinned beneath his hard body as he… Shaking those thoughts away, she forced the visions back into the deep recesses of her mind. “A few more hours of sleep sounds great, but unfortunately I have to hit the job search again.” Hannah reached across the counter, grabbing the tall glass of orange juice and taking a generous swallow of it as he eyed her. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

  Finley chuckled before responding. “You’ve been out looking for a job almost every day for the last few weeks. I offered you a position at Wetherall Communications. Just remember that it—”

  “I appreciate it, but you’ve already done so much for me already,” she said, interrupting him. “Besides, I’m in my current situation because I got intimate with my previous boss. I can’t go back down that road again. After last night, I could never…” Her voice trailed off as he cleared his throat.

  “I know that I promised not to press you for the details about what happened in Atlanta, and I fully intend to honor that—for the moment, at least. Just know that whoever he is, I’m not him. I’d never hurt you, baby girl.” Finley moved closer to her and tipped her face up until her eyes were looking directly into his bluish-green ones. Before he even lowered his head, Hannah knew he was going to kiss her. Closing the short distance between them, he brushed his lips softly over hers. “I want you to promise me that you’ll at least consider my offer.”

  Nodding, Hannah finally replied, “I will, but I doubt my position on the matter will change. It’s important to me to pave my own way. I truly do appreciate the offer, more than you’ll ever know, though.”

  Finley stood there, gazing at her for a few more seconds, before finally turning on his heels to exit the kitchen. Hannah admired his impeccable backside, then glanced back down at the remaining food on her plate. She was about to pick up another piece of bacon until she thought about the interview she had set up for today. Each interview she’d gone on was more nerve-wracking than the last, and the day before, the two she’d gone to had been pretty awful.

  Hannah rose from her seat, emptied her plate then rinsed it, along with the one he’d left in the sink. Then she knelt down to put them both in the dishwasher. When she stood back up, she noticed Gina had entered the kitchen. The older woman looked haughtily at her but never spoke a word. She’d become accustomed to that in the short time that she’d been here in London.

  Deciding it was best to just keep out of the woman’s hair, Hannah exited the kitchen and headed toward her own bedroom. Her interview was in two hours, so she had time to shower and try to control her nerves before heading out for the day. When she made it to the foot of the stairs, Finley was already descending them, dressed in a custom-made suit that was perfectly tailored to his long, lithe frame. It was charcoal black with a smoky gray tie. It looked like something that another corporate tycoon she knew would wear. The two were so similar yet so different, at the same time. Hannah shook her head, knowing even to herself, that she made no sense. She watched him put some papers in then lock his briefcase.

  Finley pulled her into his arms as soon as she was in reaching distance of him. She inhaled the scent of sandalwood and spice from his cologne as he murmured something in her ear. Finally, he released her from his embrace and grinned at her. “Good luck, baby girl. I’ll see you later on this evening.”

  She nodded then smiled before ascending the large staircase. Hannah heard the sound of the door shutting behind Finley and she sighed. Now that he’d left for the day, all distractions, except for the thoughts in her mind, were gone, so she could focus on the task at hand.

  Chapter Six

  Once in his garage, Finley looked at the small fleet of vehicles that he’d amassed over the years. The last decade had been very good to him, but, despite his wealth, he had never found anyone he had really wanted to share it with, until he’d met Hannah a few years ago. Walking between his cherry red Subaru BRZ and caramel Porsche Cayman, he decided to take the sleek, silver Perana Z-One instead.

  The V8 sports coupe was contemporary and classically styled, possessing a curvaceous frame. Those same adjectives could also describe the woman inside his penthouse. Turning his thoughts away from Hannah, he retrieved the keys for the automobile and slid behind the wheel. Soon he was easing the car through the city traffic en route to his office. He spent the entire drive, however, thinking about the evening before. Everything was falling into place and now he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she was his destiny. Fate had not only brought them together once again in Atlanta, but it had also made the events of last night possible.

  Finley had had every intention of staying at work, but something had drawn him home. At the time, he’d had no idea what, but once he’d gotten there and found her naked in the hot tub, the reason had become crystal clear, at least to him. For two years he’d agonized over the mistake he’d made in not letting Hannah know how he felt about her. While he’d hardly lived the lifestyle of a monk, no other woman evoked the same responses in him that Hannah did. He’d tried many times to forget about her, but she always remained hidden deep in the recesses of his mind. After what had transpired between them last night, there was no way he would ever rid himself of thoughts of her now.

  You’ve got it bad, man. If that realization had been because of anyone else, he would have needed to have his head examined for sure. Two long, fucking years he’d spent second-guessing his decision to keep quiet and, finally, he felt like he had a chance to rectify that. While there were many things that she didn’t know about him, breaking through the first and most difficult obstacle was just the beginning. Soon he would take the next step, then the one after that, until he could truly make her his in every sense of the word.

  His mood only got better as he parked, then exited, his sports car. Even though he had to work, things on that front were going just as well, if not better, than his home life currently was. With his briefcase in hand, Finley made his way into the large building that housed his office. But whatever happy feelings he felt on his way upstairs were extinguished as soon as he stepped out of the elevator and took a look at his secretary. If the frantic expression on her usually jovial face wasn’t enough to let him know that something was wrong, the way one of his two direct reports was pacing across the space was.

  “What the hell is up with you two this morning?” Finley asked, setting his briefcase down so he could make himself a cup of coffee.

  “I’ll get that for you,” Marjorie told him, as she swiftly stood up. He dismissed her offer with a swipe of his hand and used the few seconds it took to pour the steaming liquid into a cup and add some sugar and creamer to mentally prepare himself for whatever bad news they intended to lay on him.

  Brandon Webster spoke up as soon as he turned around. “We lost the Breckenridge account, Wetherall.”

  “Lost it?” Finley had put what he assumed to be the finishing touches on the proposal last night before he’d left for the evening. It was all a formality at that point. He had spoken with Andrew for the better part of four hours before sending it to him via email. “What the fuck happened?”

  “It’s not what as much as it’s who,” Brandon sneered. Finley knew right then that Remington Industries had to have been behind the deal going sour. “It was Thaddeus Remington. Somehow, he got to him. I tried to call you after you left the office, but you never picked up.”

  The reason why Finley had ignored those calls was worth it. At least, he’d thought so at the time. “How did Remington get to Andrew? The only thing that I can think of is that—”

  Finley was about to finish the sentence when Brandon did so for him. “He paid a personal visit to Andrew yesterday afternoon in New York City. Not even an hour after their meeting, Breckenridge declined our offe
r, stating that his corporation was going in another direction.”

  He mumbled a few choice words under his breath and stirred his coffee. He understood why the other man was so angry, but it wasn’t as if this deal would make or break Wetherall Communications. This particular arrangement would have been very lucrative for his company, but they had faced far worse storms than this. It just stung, having to admit that Thaddeus Remington had one-upped him at anything. That realization alone left a sour taste in his mouth.

  “Well, it’s Andrew’s loss then. With the Breckenridge account off the table, we can focus on the Porter and McGinnis accounts. In fact, the latter one may be more worthy of our time anyway. Why don’t you compile the preliminary data we have on them and bring it to my office in the next hour or so?” Brandon turned on his heel and left, leaving Finley alone with his secretary. “And why don’t you go ahead and schedule a meeting between Walter McGinnis and me for later in the week. That’ll give me enough time to go over the numbers and begin the proposal.”

  Marjorie snapped into action, pulling up his calendar and typing away at the keys on her keyboard. She was a very efficient employee, never questioning a single request that he made of her. Satisfied that she would handle the scheduling, Finley picked up his briefcase and, with his coffee in the other hand, entered his office and slammed the door shut behind him. “Fuck!”

  Finley sat down, loosened his tie, and powered on his laptop. This setback wasn’t out of the norm for Wetherall Communications and Remington Industries. Over the last decade, both he and Thaddeus Remington had played this same game. Some days he came out the victor and on others—like today—Remington did. It was a battle of wits and determination. The other man kept Finley on his toes. He could usually anticipate Thad’s next move, and, just like in chess, he usually had a strategic one of his own to thwart him. Remington might have won the Breckenridge account, but he wouldn’t get the next one.

  Maybe his work situation wasn’t as ideal as he thought it was an hour ago. The fact that things with Hannah were progressing along nicely seemed to cushion that blow a little bit. Returning his thoughts to her, Finley picked up the phone and dialed her number. Maybe they could get together for lunch. Her phone began ringing and after the third one, Finley pressed the button to end the call. She’d mentioned earlier this morning that she was going back out on a job search, and he frowned. Finley still didn’t see what coming to work at Wetherall Communications would hurt, but she seemed dead set against being employed by him. He didn’t understand it, but he would respect it. Deciding to try her again in a few hours, he turned his attention to the McGinnis account. With any luck, he could have this one locked in before the end of the week.

  Chapter Seven

  “Name, please,” the woman before her asked, as Hannah stood in the lobby of Gettleman, Randall and Sparks.

  “Brinkley,” she began, stopping mid-name when her phone rang. She must have forgotten to turn it off. Since the night before, her mind had been racing in a million different directions, mostly due to the man whose face now popped up on her caller ID screen. Hitting the reject call button, she then flashed an apologetic look at the older woman across from her. “Hannah Brinkley.”

  The woman began to type, her fingers flying over the keys with ease. She looked up a few times, then allowed her hands to rest when she spoke. “I show that you have a ten-thirty appointment with Gregory Randall. He asked that I let him know as soon as you arrived, so if you don’t mind taking a seat, I’ll do that now.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah murmured, crossing to the small waiting room. This particular office was a law firm, but she had taken some paralegal courses in college and administrative work was administrative work, as far as she was concerned.

  Hannah crossed one long leg over the other while her gaze traveled around the room.

  This was a nice place, even if it was a bit stuffy for her taste. Right now she needed a job and any opportunity beat none. She’d never gone this long without a job since she’d graduated college. It still hurt her that a few weeks ago, she’d had the ideal position. She’d been working for the head of a multi-million-dollar corporation and doing the type of work she loved. It was the extra-curricular activities and with whom she’d had them that had landed her in her current situation. She’d allowed her own raging libido to ruin what had been the best job that she could’ve ever asked for.

  Most days, she asked herself whether it had even been worth it in the end. Her mind would then conjure up images of being tied to Thaddeus’ bed while he worked her body over with a flogger before finally fucking her to exhaustion. Hannah felt a blush stain her cheeks and she forced herself to think of something different. Taking a trip down memory lane just before an important interview wasn’t a wise move. She tried to focus on anything else, and that was when memories of the evening before entered her head. Those were just as vivid and equally distracting. Finally, she picked up a nearby fashion magazine and started flipping through the pages. The hottest colors for fall and latest celebrity pairings didn’t interest her in the slightest, but paying attention to it in this moment erased thoughts of the two men and helped stifle her nerves at the same time.

  “Miss Brinkley, Mr. Randall will see you now.” Hannah’s head flew up at the sound of the receptionist’s voice. “If you’ll just follow me.”

  Hannah smoothed the front of her dark skirt and rose to her feet, hoping that the shaking in her hands would stop by the time she reached Gregory Randall’s office. Following the older woman down the hallway, she busied her mind with the artwork displayed there prominently. After passing about a half dozen doors, the woman opened one and motioned for her to enter.

  Hannah stepped inside and smiled as soon as the man looked up from his computer. When he rose, the first thing she noticed immediately was his height. He was at least a foot shorter than she. Hannah shook the hand that he extended to her, then she quickly took her seat while waiting for him to speak. His eyes roamed over her as she crossed her legs once more before laying her hands in her lap.

  She was used to the slow perusal of a male’s gaze, but this particular man seemed sleazier, even though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. It was times like these that she was glad it was autumn, because the sweater she wore over her dress shirt revealed far less than he probably wanted.

  Gregory Randall made a small grunting noise before looking back down at his computer. “So, Miss Brinkley, it says here that you recently moved back to London?”

  Swallowing hard, she prepared herself to answer this particular question. It was such a simple one, but each and every time, it just led to more personal and still somewhat painful questions for her. Hannah took a deep breath and then tried to keep her tone as light as possible. “Yes, that’s correct. I’ve been back in England for a few weeks now.”

  “Your résumé says that you attended school here a few years earlier, then moved to the United States. What brings you back across the pond?” he asked, as his hand moved the computer mouse down the document.

  This was the question that she hated. Hannah knew she couldn’t tell the truth, and lying wasn’t something that usually came easy to her. After the first disaster of an interview, she had a well-rehearsed response that she used for this line of questioning. “I moved back here to help out a college friend. I thought that my stay would be more temporary, but after being back in London, I realized how much I love and missed this city.”

  Gregory’s lips quirked upward before revealing a toothy smile. He seemed to buy her explanation, which set her more at ease. The remainder of the interview involved questions about her skills and how they were relevant to the job for which she was applying. Hannah could sense, though, that even though her responses were well articulated, this particular practice preferred someone with more applicable experience.

  She had already chalked up this interview as a wash and spent the remainder of the time making sure she left a good impression, just in case he couldn’
t find a more suitable candidate. Upon reaching the conclusion, Hannah rose to her feet, shaking the gentleman’s hand and exiting the office.

  When she stepped outside, the cool breeze gusted around her, reminding her of another important reason why she’d worn a sweater. This had been her only interview for the day, so she decided to head to the penthouse she shared with Finley.

  Because he’d come home earlier the night before, she was positive that he would have to stay later at the office tonight to make up the lost time, or, at least, she hoped it meant that. There was so much to think about regarding last night’s events, and she really needed the time and space to evaluate them. Hailing a cab, she gave the driver the address, then leaned back in her seat.

  Chapter Eight

  Damn, it feels good to be out of that outfit and into something much more comfortable. Hannah would take yoga pants and a loose tee over a pencil skirt and button-down shirt any day of the week. Since Gina had left for the day, she had the house to herself. Flipping on the switch to the gas fireplace, she grabbed the remote then she sat down with one of her romance novels. I don’t know why I even bother reading these things.

  Her own admission didn’t stop Hannah from flipping open the paperback, however, as she tried reading the words, her mind kept interfering. Every time she tried to imagine herself as the heroine, she couldn’t help but think about how close the reality from the last few months came to the fantasies in the book. Finally, Hannah realized that trying to turn her brain off was a futile task. With a resigned sigh, she closed the novel then set it down on the wooden table in front of her.