Manhattan Millionaire: Book Three in the Kendall Family Series

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Manhattan Millionaire: Book Three in the Kendall Family Series Page 8

by Jennifer Ann


  I reach out to him, setting my hand on the center of the desk. “Are you okay?”

  “There doesn’t seem to be a good way around the subject, so I’m going to put it all on the table,” he tells me. After a deep breath, he locks his gaze with mine, making a warm tingle pass all the way down to my toes. “Things between me and Avery haven’t been…good. We got into a fight before she left for Milan, and I broke up with her.”

  “Oh?” I pray he can’t hear the sudden hitch in my breath. He’s been single all this time and he didn’t tell me? “I’m sorry to hear that.” Especially if he’s here to say he wants to start something with me. God knows I’d jump at the opportunity if the circumstances were different. Talk about shitty timing!

  “She told me her father is going to cut her off financially if she doesn’t settle down with someone before her next birthday, so she threatened to kill this Vegas deal if I left. I told her I was done with her regardless and she let me know I’d be sorry that I didn’t stay with her. She’s wrapped around her father’s finger, so I don’t doubt he’ll do whatever she asks of him. I don’t want to lose this property just because I was too boneheaded to realize sooner that I was dating a manipulative psychopath.”

  Oh. This has nothing to do with us. How was I so quick to let my personal agenda get in the way? Before I give my cheeks the opportunity to warm with embarrassment, I pick up the office phone and hit one of four buttons Miranda has programmed under speed dial.

  I’m a professional and I have everything under control.

  Stop shaking! I’m a professional, for fuck’s sake!

  “Who are you calling?” Nolan asks, sitting taller and cocking his head to one side.

  “I’m making an appointment for us to meet with the seller and his attorneys. I hope you can clear your calendar, because we’re catching the first flight out of here. I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand by and watch while someone kills your dream.”

  In order to save my pride, I have to save this deal for Nolan and Leona. And that means I can’t let any errant feelings for him get in the way. I’m making a mental note to pack my vibrator as the phone continues to ring.

  Two hours later, we’re heading to the airport in a private car hired by the firm, discussing our strategy with the buyer. Two hours after that, we’re sitting in first class on a flight to Vegas, enjoying a surprisingly tasty meal. Though I turn down the complimentary champagne, Nolan sucks down a couple of glasses and falls asleep soon after. I got the sense he was tired the way he kept rubbing at his eyes while we were arranging for this trip, but as his attorney it’s none of my business.

  By agreeing to represent him in this deal, I drew a fine line between professionalism and friendship that I’m scared shitless to cross. Asking him if he was okay would’ve been more than toeing the line. And it’s definitely not appropriate to ogle him while he sleeps, even if his long lashes brush his cheeks and his slightly parted lips are one of the most tempting things I’ve seen in a long time.

  I throw in a pair of earbuds and get lost in the music on my new favorite playlist, drowning out my inappropriate thoughts with the sounds of organized screaming, expert drumming, and brash guitars. It’s a total trip to hear our new friend Chloe’s voice play a song from the night we saw her perform at Leona’s. She’s a ball of fun and easily got along with the rest of us like we’d been friends forever.

  It doesn’t seem enough time has passed by the time I hear the pilot announce we’re preparing to land and Nolan stirs beside me. Though he was clearly worried what his ex-girlfriend is capable of doing just a few hours ago, he’s all smiles as the airplane starts its descent.

  “First time here?” he asks when noticing how closely I’m studying the busy skyline below.

  “Yeah,” I admit. “It’s smaller than I expected.”

  He leans in uncomfortably close. My body reacts to his like he’s magnetized, becoming all fuzzy and automatically drawing in closer. Ever since I let myself think he wanted something more from me, my secret feelings for him have become a real problem.

  “Wait until you see it from the rooftop of our hotel,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “We’re here on business,” I remind him. “And I doubt we’ll be staying overnight.”

  “Unless, like you said, we have to meet with the lawyers again tomorrow. I made reservations just incase. It’ll probably be late by the time we’re done and I’m not taking a red-eye back.”

  Ugh, he can be so damn bossy. And it’s such a turn-on. “Maybe you aren’t, but I should report back to the office right away in the morning if there’s no reason to stay overnight.”

  His eyes sparkle when his lips tilt with a grin. “Aren’t I your only client at this point?”

  “Well yes, but—”

  “Then by all right you should wine and dine me on the firm’s dime. Tell your bosses I was in need of further counseling. Your first night in Vegas can’t go to waste with sitting alone in your room for the rest of the night. Have you ever heard ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’? It’s more than a mere saying.”

  Grumbling to myself, I wish I had prepared a more plausible excuse that would keep me from getting myself into such a predicament. After spending the last couple of weeks with both him and his grandmother, it’s becoming clear that he’s a good man in addition to being attractive, making it difficult to keep up with this friendship/client debacle.

  I remain tight-lipped as we reach the private car waiting outside the airport that was once again procured by the firm. On the ride to our meeting, Nolan leans forward in his seat the entire time, engaging in conversation with the massive man behind the wheel. Once they discover that they both served in the Marine Corps, the conversation becomes more animated. Soon the driver’s filling him in on what big acts to catch and where to grab the best meals.

  Pretending I’m not excited that Nolan wants to take me out for the night becomes a hell of a lot more difficult when he shows interest in the driver’s mention of an exclusive nightclub.

  “Give me your number and I’ll hook you up with the best table in the house,” the man tells Nolan as we pull up to the curb in front of a massive building. “My boy Johnny owns the place. He’ll take real good care of you and your girl.”

  Your girl? Damn it, why does that have to sound so right to my ears and why isn’t Nolan correcting him?

  Probably because he doesn’t think of me that way. He broke up with Avery weeks ago and never mentioned it.

  “A nightclub doesn’t fall under the category of wine or dine,” I tell Nolan as he types his number into the man’s smart phone before sending himself a text.

  “So we’ll drink wine,” he promises, winking.

  The driver steps outside to open my door. As Nolan crawls out behind me, he hands the man’s phone back along with a wad of bills from his pocket. “Don’t go far, Andrew. I’ll message you when we’re ready for a ride.”

  “Anything for a fellow Marine,” the driver answers, beaming from ear-to-ear. “I can be at your disposal for as long as you need.”

  “Thanks, man,” Nolan answers, slapping the man’s hand.

  “Good luck with your meeting.”

  “I don’t need luck.” Nolan tilts his head my way. “I have her.”

  Pretending I didn’t interpret his words as a double entendre, I look down to ensure the wrinkle-free suit I changed into looks flawless. Then I begin a confident march in my Jimmy Choos through the light crowd toward the building with one of Manhattan’s finest at my side.

  I’m a professional and I have everything under control.

  For once I’m not completely convinced my mantra is getting through my thick skull. With a year-long internship and a few months of actual practice under my Gucci belt, I have no fucking clue why I would think that I’m capable of successfully negotiating a billion-dollar deal.

  The moment we’re outside of the building, Nolan scoops me up off the ground and squeezes my arms against my b
ody. “You were fucking brilliant!”

  Exhaustion has begun to settle in my bones from the nearly 3-hour meeting, and his touch creates uneasy feelings in the pit of my stomach. I hate the way his scent of cologne and manliness ignites a fire down below. I hate the way he makes me want more when nothing can happen.

  When I notice two men in suits smirking our way from over Nolan’s shoulder, my cheeks burn hot. The business day has long since come to a close, so fortunately there aren’t many people left to witness our little circus.

  “Put me down!” I demand.

  Nolan complies, smiling from ear-to-ear in a way that makes it hard not to smile back. I’ve never seen him this happy. “You had them eating out of the palm of your hand. The way Evelback was ready to agree with anything you said? You were in total control of that meeting. You did it, Sof. I no longer have to worry about Avery or Walter fucking with my plans.”

  “Sof?” I repeat, snorting as I straighten my suit jacket. “Must I remind you that I’m your attorney? Nothing about picking me up on the sidewalk and calling me by my childhood nickname is appropriate.” Still, I can’t stop the small smile that bends my lips.

  Nolan’s dimples pop into place above his neatly trimmed beard when he says, “You’re being ridiculous. What were the last two weeks about? We were friends before you became my attorney.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. We didn’t spend much time together until after you signed the retainer agreement.”

  Our car pulls up to the curb and Nolan takes my hand, pulling me toward it at full speed. “We’re going out to celebrate.”

  “I need sleep,” I insist among a sigh, struggling to match his pace in my heels.

  “Guessing by that smile of yours, the meeting went well?” Andrew asks once we’re near. The two men slap hands and bro-hug like they’ve been friends their whole lives.

  “She tied everything up with a fucking bow,” Nolan answers, still beaming when they part. “Now we’re going out to celebrate. Did you get us those reservations?”

  “Your table will be waiting for you at ten,” Andrew confirms with a nod as he opens the back door. “Give them your name at the door and they’ll usher you right in.”

  “Thanks, man!” Nolan slaps his hand one more time, then gently nudges me toward the open door. “That should give you enough time to change.”

  “Change into what?” I say as I settle into the soft leather bench, wondering how I went from refusing to stay the night to agreeing to Nolan’s impromptu celebration. “I merely packed another suit for tomorrow in case we had another meeting with the firm. You can’t expect me to go out on the town dressed like this.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back,” he whispers, slipping into the spot at my side.

  A shiver runs down my spine with the sensual sound of his voice. The rich scent of leather and Nolan overwhelm my senses to the point that I want to rub up against his hard chest and purr. There’s no denying there’s been a shift in our relationship. But is it only on my end? Am I imagining everything?

  The line I’ve drawn has become blurred when I sit back to appreciate his natural physicality. He’s a gorgeous, powerful man who recently became single, and I’m a woman with a sudden need I haven’t a clue what to do with, considering he’s still my client.

  Clearing my throat, I slide away from him. “Nolan, I feel it’s necessary to make things crystal clear. You hired me as your attorney. If we spend the night ‘celebrating’ as you insist, it can only be as the friends we’ve become and nothing more.” I spend a minute to study his smug expression. “Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

  “Of course. I don’t expect anything from you. Tonight’s all about letting loose and enjoying yourself.” Amusement sparks behind his dark eyes. “You’ve earned it, counselor.”

  My heart’s racing a mile a minute as we pull away from the curb. Letting loose and enjoying myself doesn’t seem possible without losing control around him.

  Chapter 9

  NOLAN

  Sofia glares at me with her arms crossed and her lips firmly pressed together as the bell-boy opens the door to the penthouse and sets our bags inside. She rocks the hell out of the black business suit she’s wearing with curves that go on for miles, and the sight of her soft neck tempting me from the way her hair’s pulled back makes my dick rock-hard whenever she’s near.

  But boy, is she pissed. Things took a serious turn once I admitted to her that I was done with Avery. Although at first she reacted by appearing all business-like and in control, her irritation began to fester when I lifted her into my arms after the meeting.

  I know it’s necessary to keep up appearances at this point. There’s no way in hell I’d jeopardize her career. I’ll simply have to wait until everything is finalized with the acquisition before I make my move. And there’s no doubt in my mind I will be making a move when this sale is over and the timing is right.

  I just don’t know how the fuck I’m going to hold off until then.

  “When you said you made reservations, I assumed it was for separate rooms,” she grumbles under her breath. “Are you understanding this friendship concept?”

  It’s adorable how she pretends there’s nothing going on between us when I’ve felt her shutter every time I’m close. I even caught her gaping at me when I was falling asleep on the plane.

  “Friends can share a penthouse,” I insist, handing the bell-boy a sizable tip before he heads out with a knowing grin. “I’m giving you the master suite. I’ll take one of the rooms on the other side.”

  Sofia marches past me into the two-story penthouse, pausing to take in what could really be defined as the perfect set-up for a bachelor party. The elaborate pool table beneath a glass chandelier in the center of the room is a dead giveaway to its intended purpose. Everything is dark, modern, and the best quality money can buy. It even smells faintly of leather and whiskey.

  The panoramic view from the glass wall showing the city lights penetrating the nearly dark sky was worth every penny, especially now that I know this is Sofia’s first visit to Vegas. When we return at the end of the night, she’ll no doubt be blown away.

  Chuckling when she gives me a scowl, I point off to the right. “Your room’s that way.”

  Her tight little ass sways back and forth beneath her skirt as she storms off, rolling suitcase behind her. It may not be too friendly-like, but I take a moment to appreciate how tight her calves appear as she marches away in her sexy, red-bottomed heels. Once she sees what I picked out for her this time, she’s most likely going to be livid.

  I can’t fucking wait.

  “Self-confidence is the sexiest thing a woman can possess,” I call after her. “You’re going to have to stop being so sure of yourself if you’re serious about this friendship arrangement.” When she holds a middle finger up in the air, I laugh and add, “I’ll meet you at the rooftop bar in half an hour!”

  After taking a 10-minute power snooze, showering, and changing into an off-white linen suit with a white oxford, I head up to the rooftop bar a few minutes ahead of time without so much as a glimpse of Sofia on the way out. I’m met with a blast of considerably warm air and a thumping hip hop song as I make my way across the concrete floor. Several well-dressed women look up from their elaborate cocktails with hopeful glances as I grab a whiskey sour.

  Pushing my way through the partiers to the edge of the roof, I’m met with a most impressive view of the city that has me grunting in appreciation. The sun has sunk all the way into the skyline behind the buildings, preparing for an even more phenomenal view now that the lights shine against complete darkness. Setting my arms on the glass partition, I take it all in with a new appreciation. I had only visited Vegas in the past for conventions, and never allotted myself time to play. I’ve never taken off as many days in a row from the bar as I have since meeting Sofia, and I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying myself.

  Truthfully, there’s no pretending my enjoyment
isn’t solely because of Sofia. Despite declaring this thing between us to be nothing more than a friendship since day one, I’m not a fucking idiot. Guys don’t become friends with insanely gorgeous women they’d give their right nut to hook up with, and jump at the opportunity to visit Vegas if they weren’t hoping for something more. A part of me knows exactly what I’m doing. Another part, well, it's basically scared shitless. At some point Sofia’s going to see right through my intentions and realize I’m a dirtbag for wanting something more from her when I’ve only recently ended things with another woman.

  It feels so damn good to be free of Avery, even if she’s planning to make my life hell. Now that I’ve almost acquired this property, however, I’m weary of what else she may have up her sleeve.

  “You must’ve really wanted me to hook up with someone tonight when you picked this out,” Sofia says behind me. “I can’t imagine what else you thought I’d accomplish in this dress.”

  When I spin around to face her, a huge lump rises to my throat and my balls become engulfed in flames. I knew she’d look amazing, but I wasn’t completely convinced she’d actually wear it since she’s so stubborn. And I wasn’t prepared for her to look like a total fucking knock-out the way the silver material clings to every last one of her delightful curves. Long blonde waves flow past her breasts, begging to be touched, and her flawless makeup is done in a way that makes her eyes glow and her lips pop.

  Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows draw together when she catches my expression, and a small smirk pulls up one side of her mouth. “What’s wrong? Does it look too much like I’m trying to keep up with appearances?” she asks in a smart-assed tone, spinning around. The dress features a low cut-out in the back, hardly covering any skin. The edge hitches up her thigh until I’m sure I’ll see what kind of panties she’s wearing underneath. No such luck.

  Clearing my throat, I casually lean back against the glass wall. “You look stunning.” Understatement of a fucking lifetime. “I can’t imagine being the lucky bastard that gets to take it off you tonight.” The hell I can’t.

 

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