CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1)

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CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Page 94

by Kristina Weaver


  “He said the whole apartment.” She glanced back at me. “And the man really needs more furniture than just that massive bed.”

  “You’ve been his assistant for a while?”

  She nodded. “Four years.”

  “Must be a good boss if you’d move all this way to stay with him.”

  “Grant is good people.”

  “Sounds like a very southern thing to say.”

  “I’m from Georgia, originally. Something Grant and I had in common from the beginning, both being transplanted southerners in California.”

  I pushed away from the door, not really interested in this conversation. I had so many things waiting to be done at the office that I could hardly keep track of it all. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket as I took the stairs two at a time, not even looking at the space around me. I’d only been here once before, but I felt like I knew the place better than my own.

  “You knew him before, didn’t you?”

  I paused at the end of the stairs and glanced back up at Rebecca.

  “Before what?”

  “Before he moved to California.”

  I turned and continued into the living room, reading through an e-mail that had come sometime between the moment I stepped onto the elevator fifteen minutes ago and now.

  “He doesn’t talk much about himself,” Rebecca continued as though I hadn’t ignored her. “We talked for more than two hours when I came in for my interview. I think he knew everything there ever was to know about me by the end of that time, but all I knew was his name. He’s so private.”

  “He is.”

  “If it hadn’t been for Kevin…now that boy can tell stories. And he told a lot of them on Grant.”

  “Did he now?”

  She’d come down the stairs and was standing just in front of me, her eyes full of curiosity. “Kevin said he worked on a construction crew for Berryman Construction just after his mother died. Said that’s how they got by.”

  I finished reading the e-mail and slid the phone back into my jacket pocket, tucking both my hands in my pockets as I rolled back on my heels to regard her.

  “He also told me that he was involved with someone there at the end, right before he moved to California. That the girl couldn’t come with him for reasons Grant never would say.”

  “Is that right?”

  “We were all curious,” Rebecca continued, her eyes taking in every inch of me, “about the kind of woman who wouldn’t move a few states to be with a man like Grant. It was something of a debate going around the office. Of course, Grant was never aware of it. But he was often the center of attention at the office.”

  “I’m sure he still is.”

  Rebecca smiled. “A handsome man like that who seems to have a golden touch? And single to boot? Of course he’s the center of attention. Everyone’s curious about the things he refuses to reveal.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that he’s aware of that? That he likes keeping everyone in the dark?”

  “I suppose there is a little narcissism in that.”

  I moved past her, walking to the window wall at the back of the room. The view was breathtaking. Like the last time I was here, I remembered how amazing this view was without the solid walls. Just a frame and plywood all over the place. The wind screamed around us, but Grant had created this sort of barrier out of excess supplies. We curled up together and talked about what our future held for us.

  I wondered if he knew then that we had no future.

  “He’s a good man,” Rebecca said. “Gave me a job when I really had no experience of this sort of thing. And he was so patient with me when I made mistakes. Even the time I forgot to tell him about an e-mail that could have been the difference between snagging a huge client and losing a client.”

  “What is it you want to know about him, Rebecca?” I asked, turning to face her. “What are you fishing for?”

  She shrugged. “I just was curious about his past. About why he came back here.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Taurus was about to go public. He would have made ten times—even more than that—on his portion of the business if he’d waited. But he was in a hurry. One day he’s perfectly content to come into work every day, even with Kevin packing up to move back here to Houston. The next day…it’s like he received news that made him change his mind about leaving Taurus.”

  “And you’re wondering if it was about me?”

  “Or if you knew what it was about.”

  I looked her over for a long moment, trying to imagine someone like her making Grant happy over the long term. She was pretty. More than pretty, if my jealous streak would allow me to admit it. But she didn’t seem like his type.

  But, again, did I really know what his type was?

  “You know more about him than I do,” I said, causing surprise to bloom in her eyes. “I didn’t even know he had a brother until last week.”

  I turned, gesturing toward the blank wall. “Blue in here, I think. A lighter blue, but not too pale. And yellow in the kitchen. Wallpaper would be great for the bathrooms. And the furniture should be modern contemporary, microfiber to keep cleaning costs down.”

  And I left the apartment, done with this discussion, done with these memories.

  Done with Grant.

  Chapter 15

  “Your father called half a dozen times in the last three hours.”

  “What does he want?” I asked as I breezed past Angela and went to my desk, sinking into my chair with a sigh. I’d just gotten back from meeting with our cabinet guy, Burt. He was more than happy to get back to work with us, but he made me negotiate with him over his price. I’d had to promise a nearly fifty percent increase in payment. That was a hell of a lot more than I’d wanted to promise, but we needed him. Grant was right. Burt’s cabinets were part of what clients liked about us, and even with the increase, he was still cheaper than anyone else who did what he did.

  “He wonders if you’d come by to see him.”

  I shook my head. “Too much to do.” I picked up a stack of pink slips she’d laid on my desk. “Did they tell you about the switch from paper to tablets?”

  “They did. I have to attend a meeting about it later in the week.”

  “He’s trying to streamline things. I wonder if old Mr. Johnson down in IT is going to be able to keep up.” I smiled at the thought. Mr. Johnson had worked for us since I could remember, since computers were a thing. He barely understood the Apple desktops we had now, and those were fairly outdated. Constantly breaking down.

  “That reminds me. Mr. McGraw wondered if you’d come talk to him about the IT department.”

  I saw that coming.

  “Tell him I’ll come by when I can. I have a long list of e-mails I need to respond to. And I have an appointment with Joseph.” I glanced at Angela. “He hasn’t cancelled, has he?”

  “No. In fact, he called a little bit ago to make sure you were still available.”

  I nodded. I looked over at Angela as she turned to go, catching the slight hesitation in her movements.

  “What?”

  “I was just wondering…” She cleared her throat and started again. “Kevin worked all weekend, but he’s off tonight—”

  “Go.”

  Her eyes widened. “But it’s not five yet.”

  “Go, Angela. One of us should be having some fun.”

  “Are you sure? I can stay a little longer.”

  “Is Kevin waiting for you?”

  A slow smile touched her lips that told me more than any words could.

  “Go,” I repeated. “Have fun.”

  “Thank you, Addison.”

  ***

  It was well after dinnertime when I finally looked up again. A conversation with Joseph wasn’t as enlightening as I’d hoped. Turned out we hadn’t made as big a dent in our overall debt as I had hoped we had. It would be a while before Berryman Construction was fully in the black. And that depended not o
nly on the money Grant had infused in our coffers, but in the future clients he’d promised he could round up. I hoped he had as many on the hook as he had promised.

  I finished returning e-mails and going over the finances that I had put off yesterday. I finally sat back and rubbed my eyes, totally forgetting that I’d actually put on a little mascara this morning. So now it was all smeared around my eyes and on my hands. I went into my small bathroom and washed my face, thinking I might head home and have a nice glass of wine while I watched some mind-numbing television. I was about to grab my jacket and head for the door when I remembered Grant wanted to see me.

  Hopefully he wasn’t in his office at this late hour.

  But, as I turned the corner, I saw that there was still a light on in the CEO’s office. I hesitated a second at the door, but then knocked as I stuck my head through the partial opening.

  “Still here?” I asked.

  “I could say the same about you.”

  He looked up from his computer, his eyes darker than usual. He sat back, the chair leaning with his weight a little, as he reached up to run his fingers through his hair.

  “I called your office a few times, but no one picked up.”

  “I was in a meeting and I let Angela go early.”

  He peeked at me, then realization dawned on him. “It’s Monday, isn’t it? Kevin.”

  “Yeah. She said he worked all weekend.”

  Grant nodded. “Those twenty-four-hour shifts they always gloss over on television shows that romanticize a medical residency. I don’t think my little brother finds it so romantic.”

  He got up and walked around the desk—still my father’s impressive black walnut desk—and gestured for me to take a seat at the conference table. I went over and tucked my skirt under me as I gracefully took a seat in a chair that wanted to roll away. If he hadn’t grabbed it at just the right moment, it might have been quite a comical scene.

  He sat beside me and spread his hands out on the table as though he were trying to remember why the hell he wanted to see me in the first place.

  “We need to replace most of the IT department,” he announced almost under his breath.

  “The whole department?”

  “None of those people down there know anything about tablets or servers or anything they really should know. I don’t know why your father kept them all these years.”

  “Because Mr. Johnson has worked here since I was a child.”

  “Loyalty is commendable. But we need people who can procure the best equipment and keep it running.”

  “But the whole department?”

  “I went down there personally and talked to them. None of them even know what a tablet is. How will they be able to keep them running properly?”

  “Is that what we’ll be using? The Taurus Tablet?”

  “Unless you can make a better deal with someone else.”

  He got up and went to his desk, picking up one of the pads in question and bringing it back to the table. In a second, he’d called up a document that was part of a contract for five hundred tablets. And the price was impressive.

  “Are they doing this because you were one of their partners?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Okay.”

  He sat back and studied me. “No arguments?”

  I shrugged. “Would it do me any good?”

  “Probably not.”

  He set the tablet out of the way and leaned toward me. “Making any headway on the financials?”

  “Quite a bit, actually. But it’s still going to be a while before we get it all worked out.” I watched him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes for the first time. They were very dark, like he hadn’t slept in days. “What do I need to do to help make this transition to digital easier?”

  “My tech guy is going to present a talk about it on Wednesday. And then he’ll come by and talk to you about it.”

  “Your tech guy? You already have a tech guy?”

  “A guy I worked with at Taurus agreed to come and help with the transition. He’s working freelance.”

  I stood up, pushing the chair back hard enough that it skittered across the room.

  “Why did you make me stay if you’re going to do things your way whether I agree or not?”

  “I didn’t make you stay. You chose to stay.”

  “I chose to stay to keep these people from getting a pink slip!”

  “But you stayed.”

  He was pushing my buttons and he knew it. I could see by the way he was looking at me with that little twinkle of amusement in his eyes. I shook my head as I started for the door, frustration making me wish I’d never come here.

  “Yeah, well, I’m here. For six months. But the second my contract is up—”

  He came up behind me before I even knew he’d left his chair. He pressed his hand against the door, keeping me from going out.

  “Why do we have to argue every time we see each other? Can’t we have one pleasant conversation?”

  I turned, surprised to find him right there beside me, so close that there was no room to even breathe.

  “We did. Once. And then everything changed.”

  “Are you going to punish me forever?”

  “I punished myself for seven years, so I think a few arguments are the least you’re owed.”

  “Maybe,” he said softly, his face coming close to mine, his finger brushing my jaw. “Maybe I deserve all you can dish out and more. But…” His finger moved over my chin to my bottom lip. “This is so much more fun.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, brushing his hand away.

  He looked at me, the exhaustion in his eyes that much more pronounced. He studied my face for a moment, then nodded.

  “Okay, Addison.”

  He stepped away, walking back toward the conference table like it didn’t matter. But his shoulders were sloped and his movements were slow. He sat back down with a heavy sigh.

  “Go,” he said, waving at me when he realized I was still standing there. “Go home. Tomorrow’s another day.”

  “Just like that? You’re giving up now?”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t a good sound, a happy sound. It was a dark laugh.

  “I don’t know what you want, Addison. One minute you can’t get enough of my touch, and the next, it’s like my touch is acid. I don’t know how to act around you.”

  “You hurt me, Grant.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?”

  He shook his head, then turned to study the top of the table, dismissing me again. And I was ready to go. I even turned and set my hand on the doorknob. But I couldn’t make myself turn it. I stood there for a long minute—unable to leave, unable to stay. And then I was crossing the room without even thinking about it, without knowing what it was I was about to do. I crossed the room and climbed into his lap, tugging his face up to mine.

  His lips touched mine, hesitant at first. But the hesitation disappeared and was replaced with a deep hunger that washed away any doubts I might have had. He had a power over me, and I couldn’t resist it, even when I wanted to.

  He lifted me up and set me on the edge of the table, one hand sliding up the outside of my thigh as the other tugged at the buttons on my blouse. I tugged at his shirt, too, untucking it from his pants so that I could slip my hands underneath. I loved the feel of his skin, wanted to feel his heat, his pulse, and the life pumping inside of him.

  My shirt came off, my bra following in seconds. And then I was laying back against the cool laminate top of the table, his mouth moving from my throat to my breasts, his tongue teasing as both his hands buried themselves under my skirt. I could feel my panties beginning to move under his touch. I lifted my hips a little, and that made him moan against my upper belly.

  He came back up to me, the heat of his breath washing over my face.

  “Tell me you want me,” he said.

  I touched his cheek, tried to pull him back down to me. He twisted his
head and kissed my palm, but then moved from my touch.

  “Tell me, Addison.”

  I reached for him again, but he stepped back, his hands still caught under my skirt, but his fingers no longer locked around my panties. He was slipping away, and that caused this horrible ache to begin in the pit of my stomach.

  “I want you,” I said in a voice torn apart by need. “You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted.”

  Something happened in his eyes when I said that. I thought for a minute he was going to make me leave, that I’d said too much. But then he was back, his lips on mine, his tongue buried so deep that I couldn’t breathe, but it was kind of a relief. He wasn’t leaving. He wanted me, too.

  My panties were caught on my thighs, just above my knees. He pulled away and I reached for him, grabbed his arm. He bent, kissed me again, but then he stepped back so that he could free my panties, get that barrier out of the way. And then he stared into my eyes as he removed his shirt and unbuttoned his slacks.

  I sat up, needing to touch him. As he slid inside of me and I wrapped my legs around him, I tugged him close to me, my mouth moving over his chest, exploring what I knew was there, what I knew I wanted. I could feel his heart pounding in the center of his chest, between his perfectly masculine nipples, and I could feel his breath coming in quick gasps, as though being this close to me made it impossible for him to breathe.

  His hands slid through my hair, loosening it from the easy bun I still wore it in, even though my dad was no longer around to chastise a more modern hairstyle. My hair fell down my back in waves and he buried his hands in it, tugging my head back so that he could kiss me again.

  He moved slowly, the roll of his hips so slight that it was barely something that could be called movement. But it was a match igniting a fire so deep inside of me that I was sure nothing could ever put it out. And then something changed in him. He was quickly losing that control he was so proud of holding on to at all times. He broke our kiss and simply pulled me tight against him, buried my body against his. And that movement that was barely movement became an earthquake, an unstoppable force that pounded against me with an intensity that should have been much too much for me, but wasn’t. I could feel him reaching the edge, knew that the end was nearly there. I wrapped my body as tightly around him as I could and held him, waiting for that moment, waiting to catch him when he fell over the edge.

 

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