Zenith Falling (Zenith Trilogy, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  Chapter Ten

  Nick was glad when he didn’t see Joelle over the next few weeks. There was nothing he could do for her. She was in denial about what she wanted and what her husband was. She was in denial that she didn’t like her life, or her marriage. But hell, what was he supposed to do about that? Change her mind?

  Then one day, she walked into a staff meeting, pad and paper in hand. There were some twenty people or so in the conference room, and she slid into a chair at the back of the group, far away from him at the head of the conference room table. She wore black pants, an almost feminine blouse, and her usual tight, knot of hair. She didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the workers. She was a little too made up, her outfit a little too dark, and her hair a little too harsh.

  There was nothing about Joelle that was his type. She wasn’t corporate, professional, stylish, or even remotely feminine or seductive. But still, he watched her. Noticed her. He was conscious of when she fidgeted, when she crossed her legs, or adjusted her notepad. He knew when she was taking notes, or when she was listening. She was probably there at Steve Applebaum’s urging. Steve had recently increased Joelle’s workload as well as her salary.

  Nick sat at the head of the conference table, surrounded by his most senior, trusted staff, while listening in rote to the normal dealings of the monthly meeting: budgetary stuff, problems, concerns, news, all of it was presented to him. He was comfortable in charge of a large group, being sought for answers, decisions, and final approvals. It came easy to him. It was less than interesting anymore. Until Joelle walked in. Suddenly, it was very interesting to him to sit in there, while discreetly stealing glances at her. What did she think of this? Did she hate it? The corporate-ness of it? The claustrophobia of an office, the mundaneness of paperwork and staff meetings. Yet, to his continued surprised, she seemed to like the environment her looks suggested she should hate. She seemed to be satisfied working there.

  “Mr. Lassiter, what do you think?”

  Nick turned towards Miles Standley who was head of technology. He worked on and regularly updated the vast computer systems the company used. He was brilliant on the computers, but still not as good as Nick. No one was. But he couldn’t do it all, so he had to delegate some of it out.

  “What do I think of what?” Nick asked, not bothering to pretend he was listening.

  “A request for new monitors was put in by the entire Accounting department. They want bigger screens.”

  “Fine.”

  “Really? Just like that?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Thanks, sir.”

  Nick leaned back in his chair again and observed the room as the meeting continued. Suddenly, he snapped to attention when an item caught his attention.

  “What do you mean Wilson was talking to Susan Gellons?” Nick asked, frowning at Brittany Snow, head of public relations. Fred Wilson was one of Nick’s key hackers, and an employee he trusted. To hear he was talking to Susan Gellons, one of the business world’s most curious and investigative reporters, got Nick’s attention.

  “Well, he claims they are friends from college. But–”

  “Fire him.”

  “Mr. Lassiter, I don’t think that’s really necessary yet. We should definitely look into it, but maybe he is–”

  “I don’t care if they played in diapers together, Ms. Snow, I don’t need Wilson consorting with Susan Gellons. He can talk to her all he likes, but not with my company as his topic.”

  There was startled shuffling and murmurs in the room. He glared around the table. What didn’t employees get about no media contacts? No interviews. Nothing that would shed light on who or what Next Generation consulted on. And if they needed a reminder just how serious that rule was, this would be a good one. It was completely non-negotiable.

  Nick glanced to the back of the room, and Joelle’s face paled. He tightened his jaw. She didn’t have a damn clue what he was like. He was not always Trina’s nice, caring older brother. Computer geek that she used to think he was, she didn’t see him like that now: a very abrasive, business-minded, profit-seeking CEO who made a fortune by the age of thirty. Apparently, he’d done it all at the expense of others, his personal life, or by being nice and understanding. He considered himself fair. Sometimes he went out on a limb for employees whom he thought had proven their worth and loyalty. Above all, he demanded total confidentiality and trust.

  The room went quiet as a result of the furious look on his face. He had to force himself to relax. He started to turn towards the CFO when a voice interrupted him.

  “Isn’t that a bit harsh? Firing someone before you know for sure if he’s done something wrong?”

  Joelle. She was standing up and questioning him. Nick glared at her, more surprised than anything else that she’d dare to speak up in a room full of people; people who far outranked her on the corporate ladder. He had a feeling that if Joelle looked around, and noticed all the eyes now fastened on her, she’d probably lose her nerve. There were startled murmurs in the room.

  “No, I don’t think it’s a bit harsh,” he said at last, his voice clearly stating that this was the final word on it.

  “Nick, you can’t fire a man because he got caught in company gossip.”

  “Well, technically, I can, Joelle,” he said, emphasizing her name. “We can’t have our customer list showing up somewhere in a newspaper column. We’d be flat out of business.”

  “But he has a family, two kids. Susan Gellons is dating his wife’s brothers. I don’t think that’s exactly his fault. Or being disloyal to you,” she said, her voice louder than before.

  Nick hesitated and turned his chair so he was facing Brittany Snow. “Is that true, Ms. Snow?”

  “I-I don’t know,” Brittany Snow said, tapping furiously at the iPad before her.

  Joelle had the audacity to sigh and roll her eyes, all at him. “Yes. It’s quite true. I’ve talked to him almost daily while we wait for the elevator. The point is: maybe you should find out for sure before you make a decision that could ruin a person’s life. A person with far fewer resources than you.”

  Nick frowned at Joelle, but she stared right back. She swallowed and twisted her fingers together. Everyone was silent, watching him. Obviously, they could see Joelle knew him, and that he knew Joelle in another capacity than just a low-level employee. He tapped his pen on the table, annoyed she questioned him in front of everyone. But he had to give her credit. At least, she had the balls to do it.

  He snapped forward in his chair and leveled a look at Brittany. “Fine. Ms. Snow, confirm that, and let me know by the end of the day.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, making a note. Nick glanced at Joelle and received a challenging look. Well, so much for discretion. Her eyes were wide, and clouded with confusion. She had finally, totally, opened her eyes and saw the real him. He regretted that. She was in for a shock.

  ****

  “Can I talk to you?” Joelle asked Nick as they all filed out of the conference room.

  Nick merely glanced her way, but kept walking and talking to his CFO. Finally, after a pause in the conversation, he said, “No, you can’t. I have another meeting right now. And then I’ll be out of the office the rest of the day.”

  “But, Nick–”

  “I don’t have time for you right now, Joelle.”

  With that, he turned back around, taking quick steps and stiffening his posture as he ignored her. Joelle felt like kicking the wall next to her. How dare he? How dare he brush her off and ignore her? But then again, as Nick so clearly showed during the meeting, he could do anything he wanted. She was his damn employee. He could brush her off any time he liked. He could fire her anytime he liked. Just like poor Fred Wilson.

  Joelle sighed; this was the Nick Lassiter she didn’t know and didn’t want to know. This was the person she heard about through office gossip. It was always, “Mr. Lassiter demands this, and Mr. Lassiter says that.” What Mr. Lassiter would like or not like. It was
all very cut and dried, as if Mr. Lassiter never considered any extenuating circumstances. She went back to her desk that sat outside of Steve Applebaum’s office. Her desk resembled Bev Richmond’s. Only hers was smaller, and of lesser quality, but had the same accouterments: phone, computer, files, and a nearly dead potted plant, a failed attempt to liven up the otherwise bland office clutter. Steve came by just then. “Into my office, please.”

  There was a stern tone to the otherwise polite request. She got up and followed him, sitting across from his desk. She did not feel afraid or awkward with him anymore, not like she did the first few weeks.

  “I’m guessing this is about the meeting?” Joelle asked.

  “Of course, it is. I asked you to attend it because I thought you’d learn something, start to see the workings of the company as a whole. Not try to tell Nick Lassiter what to do. Nobody tells Nick Lassiter what to do. What the hell was that?”

  “That was me questioning a totally stupid and dictatorial decision Nick impulsively made. Don’t worry, it won’t reflect on you. It’s all on me.”

  “I don’t understand, Joelle, you never talk to anyone, not even me sometimes, yet you dare to argue with him? Of all the people to find your voice, you choose Nick Lassiter?”

  He was right. She’d done just that, found her voice with Nick. Why? Why with Nick Lassiter of all people?

  “He’s not God, Mr. Applebaum.”

  “He is here. If you value your job, I’d cut it out now.”

  “I can handle Nick.”

  Steve sat back in his chair, regarding her. “I see. I take it you know Nick outside of being my boss?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” Joelle said as she stood up and started out of the office. She walked to the elevator and went up two floors and then down the hallway to Bev Richmond’s desk. The barracuda lady had become her ally of sorts over the last few weeks. She seemed to consider Joelle some kind of pet project.

  “Hi, Ms. Richmond.”

  “Joelle,” she said in a prim tone.

  “Is he in?”

  “No, he’s out.”

  “Where?” Joelle asked grumpily. “Where did he have to rush off to that he couldn’t spare a moment?”

  “Client. Then, I believe, he said he had an early date. To the symphony, I believe.”

  “Oh,” Joelle said, annoyed. What the hell? Nick had a date? Who did Nick date? She couldn’t picture him having a personal life. The symphony? Downtown penthouse. She really knew jack about him.

  “I heard what happened in the meeting,” Ms. Richmond said. “You’ve got guts, don’t you? Could explain his bad mood.”

  “He was being unreasonable.”

  “He can seem that way, but usually, he has very sound reasons. He’s not one to mess with, Joelle. You know that, I hope?”

  No. She didn’t know that. She didn’t know him at all. She didn’t know anything. “You never have asked how I know him outside of here. You obviously realize he got me this job. Why don’t you ask?”

  “It’s none of my business. Whatever your relationship is to Nick, just be cautious. Friendship and business don’t mix. Nick definitely doesn’t mix them.”

  “Okay,” Joelle said surprised at the warning, and confused… period. Who was Nick Lassiter? Why didn’t she know more about him? Why did he know every embarrassing fact of her life when she didn’t know one thing beyond his work persona? And what did Bev Richmond see that compelled her to steer her away from Nick?

  Chapter Eleven

  Joelle remembered Nick’s address and decided to use it despite knowing the next morning was Saturday. There was a doorman and tight security. To her shock, she was on a special list that identified exactly who could go up to Nick’s penthouse. Why did he do that? In conjunction with the directions to his place? For “just in case” reasons? She rode the elevator to the top floor of Nick’s building. What her life lacked, Nick’s possessed an overabundance of. She knocked on his door, her resolve keeping her nerves at bay. He couldn’t just ignore her because he didn’t like being argued with. He didn’t answer the two calls she made to his voice mail last night.

  He took forever to answer the door, although she could hear him, until the door finally opened. He was dressed in jeans, with an untucked polo shirt, bare feet, and still damp hair. She’d never seen him so casual before. Actually, she only ever saw him wearing one of his immaculate designer suits, with a tie, slacks and dress shoes. He looked different, although kind of the same, but looser, and a lot sexier. Not quite so “Nick Lassiter, CEO”.

  “Joelle? Are you all right?” he asked, looking first at her and then behind her as if he expected to find someone. “Did something happen?”

  She recognized that voice. He was Nick again. Concerned. Worried. Caring.

  “No, everything is fine. I came to talk about yesterday. I called you last night, but you didn’t answer. I thought about calling this morning, but I assumed you’d ignore me. I thought–”

  “You should have called first.”

  There was an odd tone to Nick’s quietly worded comment. He was also blocking the doorway, without moving his body in any way that would suggest he was inviting her in. The date he had last night. The date must still be in his apartment. She shut her eyes in horror, as she let out a breath. Was this the worst idea she ever had?

  Nick’s penthouse was huge, with a wide open, spacious living room, and two huge couches with complementary chairs. Plush, white carpet, led to an oversized, granite-countered, gourmet kitchen, separated from the living room by a long eating bar. There was also a hallway that led from the living room to the bedrooms, and through a formal archway into the dining room. There was a balcony beyond that, and floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up the kitchen, flooding the condo with light, and views of the sky, the city, and Puget Sound. Nick spent all his waking hours here or at the office, regally observing the rest of the world.

  Then she saw Nick’s date: a tall, graceful blonde, with long, almost white-colored hair. She was a spectacular specimen of poise wrapped in pale, porcelain skin. She rose from the living room couch and walked towards them with a beautiful silk robe tied at her waist.

  Joelle shut her eyes in horror. Of course, his date was there; of course, she was the antithesis of Joelle in height, hair, coloring, beauty, and clothing… right down to her manicure. She looked to be in her late twenties, and the epitome of perfection for Nick. Just like his office, his car, his clothes, his condo, so why not his date?

  “Nice place,” Joelle said finally, after observing the details.

  “Thanks,” Nick said, shutting the door behind her, and putting his hands into his pockets. He glanced at his date as she approached him, and he shuffled his feet. Joelle realized she made a huge mistake by deciding to come there. She was not welcome. Nick’s face was stony, his eyes blazing blue. She had obviously read way too much into Nick’s real concern about her.

  The beautiful woman discreetly, but politely checked Joelle out. She obviously considered her nonthreatening with regard to Nick, and she smiled kindly, and even appeared nice to Joelle.

  “Hi, I’m Erica Heathersby.” She politely held out her hand and Joelle shook it.

  Nick straightened his back. He spoke before she could. “This is Joelle, she’s a friend of Trina’s, who works for me. Can you give us a moment?” Nick said in a brisk tone.

  “Oh, of course,” Erica said, smiling graciously, walking toward what Joelle assumed was the master bedroom. They both watched her leave the room.

  “Erica must have been your date to the symphony, and the reason why you couldn’t even spare me a minute yesterday.”

  Nick looked down at her and narrowed his eyes. “How did you know where I went?”

  “Ms. Richmond told me.”

  “What are you doing? Keeping tabs on me? And why exactly did you come here?”

  “I tried to talk to you yesterday, but your feel
ings were too ragged to listen to me.”

  He blew a breath out. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Yesterday after the meeting. You were too angry to even look at me.”

  “No. I wasn’t. I was late. I was leaving. I was busy. I wasn’t anything at you.”

  “You didn’t like my second-guessing you.”

  “Of course, I didn’t. Who does?”

  “Well, why wouldn’t you talk to me?”

  “Because I run a multi-million dollar company with more than a hundred employees who rely on me. I have the final say so. Sometimes I use it. People’s personal lives mean very little to me. I employ them for their skills and work ethic. I expect loyalty, and obedience to a few rules. One of those being: no interviews. Ever. Or you get fired. That’s not a new rule to someone like Fred Wilson; and no, you may not understand it, but you don’t get any say.”

  “But maybe sometimes, you need to make sure all your facts are straight before you execute life-altering choices on your employees. I was simply pointing out those facts.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, you did, and didn’t I ask Brittany to look into it? Turns out, you were wrong. Wilson’s interview will be in Sunday’s paper.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh.’ I know you don’t get it. But I have my reasons for all of my actions. Reasons I can’t and won’t always explain to you, because you’re a secretary. You’re not my vice president, or lawyer, or–”

  “I know, I’m nothing important.”