by Terri Austin
And there he was—the hard-assed businessman. Whenever Brynn thought she saw a glimmer of something more, the heartless side of him always reared its head. She stared out the window and ignored him for the rest of the drive.
When the car stopped in front of his office building, Iain placed a hand on her leg. “Brynnie. It’s none of my business what you do, love. I just don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”
She didn’t look at him. “Caring about people isn’t a flaw, Iain, but a lack of compassion is. I pity you.” She grabbed her bag, slipped from beneath his touch, and out of the car.
Brynn didn’t wait for him as she walked into the building or when she hopped into the elevator before the doors slid closed. No matter how fabulous the sex or how many orgasms he gave her, if Iain couldn’t show even a modicum of human decency, then he wasn’t the right man for her.
Brynn forced a smile on her face when she walked into the Blue Moon offices, said hello to a few people, and headed straight for Marc’s office. She rapped on his door once and after hearing him mutter something, she opened it and peeked through the crack.
“Brynn, come on in.” He looked more rumpled today. He hadn’t shaved and his hair appeared a little unkempt. The overall affect was sexy and disheveled, but Brynn had a feeling that wasn’t the look he was going for.
She walked toward his desk and set her bag in the guest chair. “I came to get you for our meeting.” He had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. “Are you all right? We can reschedule.”
“No need for that. Just women troubles. The worst kind, eh?”
“And here I thought man troubles were bad.”
Standing, Marc walked from behind his desk. “Iain giving you problems? He’s good at that.”
“But why is he so”—she made claws with her fingers—“urgh?”
“I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d want to strangle him. We’ve all felt that way a time or three.” Marc walked to the door and held it open. “It’s part of his charm.”
That was an infuriating answer that told Brynn nothing. And Iain’s hard-assed ways weren’t the least bit charming. What made him so disconnected from other people? Are you looking for a reason to excuse his behavior? There is no excuse, jellyfish. Maybe not, but this was Brynn’s Achilles’ heel—her faith in people, her belief in their innate decency. What was Iain’s tragic flaw? Everyone had at least one.
Probably his cold heart. Or the fact that he couldn’t care less about anyone else’s feelings. Yet he’d read her manual. Even found something nice to say about it. He could be funny and warm and generous. But he could also be an asshole. Those glimmers of humanity kept her hanging on. The rational part of her wanted to give up on him, but the glass half-full Brynn thought he deserved another chance. Still, after their argument in the car, she didn’t want to face Iain alone. That’s why she’d sought out Marc. He could act as a buffer.
Marc waited while Brynn warred with herself. She hadn’t come to any conclusions. Iain was both kind and cruel. She couldn’t separate the two. He was a total combo platter.
With a sigh, she grabbed her stuff and exited the room. Marc kept pace with her, and they walked toward Iain’s office.
Amelia saw them and rolled her eyes. “He’s in a mood. Coffee and breakfast are on the cart. Tell him I’ll be there in a sec.” Her blue gaze scanned Brynn’s face. “Don’t let him rattle you, sweetie.”
Brynn’s feet dragged her forward. Only Marc’s solid presence at her back kept her from skedaddling out of here.
Entering the office, Brynn’s gaze searched the room and found Iain sitting on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his face a mask of irritation. “About time you two showed up. Let’s get on with this. Get Amelia in here to take notes.”
Marc walked to the cart and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Keep your hair on. She’ll be here in a mo.” His glance slid between Brynn and Iain. “You two having a tiff or wha’?”
Iain’s expression darkened. “Mind your own.” His eyes cut sharply to Brynn. “Going to stand there or have a seat? Or maybe you’ll just run. You’re so very good at it.”
Swallowing her discomfort, Brynn raised her chin in the air. This same man had tied her up last night. Had his tongue all over her, in her, just a couple of hours ago. If he ever wanted to do it again, he’d better shape up. She wasn’t going to take this shit from him. “I’m not going anywhere. And if you can’t put your personal grievances aside, perhaps we should table this meeting for another time when you aren’t feeling so emotional.” Shock flickered across his face as she strode forward, grabbed a napkin and a bagel, and dropped into a chair. From her bag, she dug out her notebook and a pen.
Iain leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “I don’t get emotional, pet. That’s your department.”
Marc watched them, his head swiveling back and forth as if he were watching a tennis match.
“And yet,” she said calmly, “you’re the one who seems bad tempered this morning.”
“Can’t imagine why.”
Amelia walked into the room. “Iain, stop causing trouble.” She sat on the opposite end of the couch, her tablet and stylus at the ready. “I believe we’re discussing office morale?”
Her cool demeanor allowed Brynn to direct her energy toward the meeting. For the next thirty minutes, she threw out ideas, which Iain shot down, one by one. Exasperated but trying desperately to hide it, she placed her untouched bagel on the side table. “All right,” she said, “what are your suggestions? We want your employees to feel valued. You don’t like any of my ideas, so you must have a few of your own.”
“Cash. Cold, hard, unemotional cash,” he said. “If they make certain goals for the quarter, they get a bonus.”
“We’ve already discussed this,” Brynn said. “Several times, in fact. Money won’t change the environment in this office. Your attitude will.”
Marc sighed and rubbed his eyes. “For crying out loud. The two of you have obviously rowed, and frankly, I don’t have the patience to sit through this nonsense today. Amelia, let’s leave them to it.”
“Agreed.” She faced Brynn. “But I’m supposed to order lunch for the entire office?”
“Yes. They’re going to pick their delegates.”
Iain gazed out the window. “Bloody waste of time,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that. Why don’t you speak up so that we all can partake of your wisdom?” Brynn wasn’t sure where this snarky mood was coming from, and she was too ticked off to care.
Iain glared at her from the corner of his eye. “I said, what a fucking waste of time.”
Marc stood and placed his cup back on the cart. “I’m out. Just shag you two, and get it over with. You’re driving me mental.”
Amelia stood as well, cutting a chic figure in her green dress. She placed her hand on Brynn’s shoulder as she passed.
Once they left, Brynn closed her book. “I’ll finish talking to your employees so that I can make more useless suggestions that you won’t follow. You’re right. This is a waste of time.” She rose but stiffened when Iain popped out of his seat.
“I don’t need your pity.”
“What?”
He skirted the coffee table as he moved toward her. “You pity me? What a laugh. You’re going to continue to live a pathetic little life where you blend into the background and try not to offend anyone. I feel sorry for you.”
Anger had her trembling. She raised a shaky finger and pointed it in his face. “I’ve told you what I want, but you’re too stubborn and rude to hear anything but your own yapping. My life may seem pathetic to you, but at least I have people who care about me. You’re going to die old and alone, having alienated every person who gives a damn about you.” She swung around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Tears filled Brynn’s eyes as she hurried past desks and left the office.
Damn it, she hated everyone seeing her like this,
hated being the center of attention—it was embarrassing. On top of that, she couldn’t just speed out of here. Because she’d left her car at work, Brynn was going to have to catch a taxi, and she’d rather walk than use Iain’s driver.
Iain Chapman can seriously blow me. What a dickhead.
* * *
As soon as she huffed out the door, Iain knew he’d made a howler. Amelia was in his office three seconds later to confirm it.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Hands on his hips, Iain stared down and watched the traffic. “If I knew the answer to that, I could avoid these delightful conversations.”
“First Marc, now you. Neither one of you know how to treat a woman. Didn’t I teach you anything?”
“If this morning’s fiasco was anything to go by, apparently not.”
“I was going to ask you to speak to Tyler, but you’re clearly not yourself.”
Iain turned. “What’s wrong with him?” At twelve, Tyler was smart and athletic, but he could be a bit rambunctious. “Getting into trouble at school, is he?”
“Yes. His grades have been slipping. Now, what’s going on with you and Brynn?”
“None of your business.” He walked forward and slammed the dice down on his desk. “She’s exasperating and wonderful, and I’m a dickhead.”
“So go apologize.”
Fuck that. He didn’t want to apologize. Brynn should be apologizing to him. Iain was successful—a self-made man. He had money and prestige. He didn’t need some wisp of a woman trying to change him. “I so appreciate the concern, I can’t even tell you. Why don’t you go help Marc now? He could use some of your sage advice.”
“Save the sarcasm. I’ll stay out of it. But if you lose that girl, you’re going to regret it. I see the way you look at her. The way she looks at you. Just think about swallowing your pride. For once.” She banged out of the office the same way Brynn had.
After several minutes, Iain forced himself to sit down and get to work. He had plans and bids and inspections to deal with. The row with Brynn would have to go on the back burner.
The problem was, every time he started to study the numbers, her words came back to him. You’re going to die old and alone, having alienated every person who gives a damn about you. He didn’t have anyone in his life except for Marc and Ames. You could have had Brynn.
Pushing back from his desk, he stood, tugged on his waistcoat, and walked out of his office. “Is she in the conference room?”
“Nope.” Ames didn’t look up from her computer screen. “She’s gone.”
Panic shot through him. “Gone?” She’d run out on him again. Well, this was the last time. Iain’d had enough. “I’ll be out for a few. What time is Tyler coming?”
“Not until five. He has a soccer game after school.”
“Text me the address. I’ll be there.” He walked out and swept past the HR department. But before he made it to the door, Iain turned back. “James, what’s going on?”
The tall, blond man stood. “Sir?”
“What’s going on in the office? Surely you have the pulse on the employees and their concerns. What’s happening that I should know about?”
James’s eyes slid away. “I’m not sure what you’re asking, Mr. Chapman.”
“Is everyone content?”
“Um…”
“For fuck’s sake man, are there any problems? Complaints? Is anyone unhappy and is there anything I can do about it?”
“Well, Gina in sales is going on maternity leave in two weeks. I know that parties are frowned upon.”
“No, no. Have a party or whatever the hell you people do to celebrate a baby. I’ll start a fund, yeah?”
James’s head bobbed. “Also, Charles’s wife is in the hospital. She broke her leg.”
This was how it started. Show concern for one of them, and it never stopped. People were so bloody needy. Iain sighed. “Which one is Charles?”
“Glasses. He’s in PR.”
“Tell Amelia to send flowers.” This liaison idea was a good one. He needed other people to tend to this type of thing. He was busy. Amelia was busy. She shouldn’t be required to take care of all these details. “And tell everyone to select two groups. Liaisons and a team to take care of this type of thing—flowers and parties and whatnot.”
“Yes, sir.”
Iain walked out without looking back this time. He didn’t want to get mired in any more minutiae today.
When he reached the lobby, Iain signaled to his driver. “Get the car.”
The man jumped out of the chair where he’d been chatting with the building’s security guards. “Yes, Mr. Chapman.”
Iain stood on the hot sidewalk, letting the sun wash over him while he waited. Brynn Campbell was going to regret walking out on him. It was the bloody final straw.
Chapter 15
When Iain walked into the TDTC office, he took a good look around. Shabby. The carpet had been worn thin in places. Pieces of the vertical blinds had snapped off, giving them the appearance of a gap-toothed smile. Even the droopy, fake plant in the corner seemed ready to call it a day.
He walked up to a dark-haired woman. “I’m here to see Brynn Campbell.”
She stood, pointing at him with her chocolate bar. “You’re that Blue Moon guy who kept calling the other day.”
“Right.”
“I’ll see if she’s busy.”
“She will be. But point out her office anyway.”
She considered a moment. “She said you went to eleven. I can see that. She’s over there.” The woman indicated a narrow door on her right.
“Thank you.” See—he could do polite. It just took up so much damned time.
Iain stared down two men sitting in the center of the room. At his unflinching glare, they lowered their eyes. Damn, he was doing it again. Dominance just came naturally to him. All this friendly, open business felt disingenuous.
Iain didn’t bother with knocking. He walked into the boxlike room. Felt as though the walls were closing in on him, it did. How could Brynn stand to lock herself away in this tiny hellhole? He shut the door and leaned against it.
Brynn’s eyes grew huge when she saw him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve heard the coffee is outstanding. What do you think?” With one step, he stood directly in front of her, his suit jacket brushing the front of her dress. “The question is, why are you here? You’re meant to be in my office, questioning my employees.”
“I’m not doing it anymore. According to you, Delaney is limping toward failure. I have other clients, real clients, who need me, and you don’t.”
“I do need you.” Iain barely recognized his own voice. He’d come here to vent his frustration, his anger, but it had all dissolved the second he’d walked into this shithole of an office. Brynn reduced him to a schoolboy, made him forget his goals, his commitments. She’d become more important than any of it. “I need you, Brynnie. I’m an ass. I can be cold and uncaring. Unfeeling. Wrapped up in meself and blind to anyone else’s problems.” He paused. “You can stop me at any time, you know.”
“Keep going. You’re on a roll.” She crossed her arms.
“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“Why should I?”
“What happened to the sweet little Brynnie who wouldn’t say boo to a goose?”
“Maybe she’s finally learning to stick up for herself.”
Iain couldn’t help but admire that. It wasn’t easy for her—he could see it in her eyes, the way she had to force herself to meet his gaze head on.
“I’m sorry for the cruel things I said, love.”
Her arms fell. “Me too. I feel terrible. I’m sorry I ran away. It’s my fallback. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
How could he not? “Course I will. I’d forgive you of just about anything.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you, Iain. And just for the record, Tash isn’t taking advantage of me. S
he misses her family. I know what that’s like. When my mom got sick, my world turned upside down. That’s what’s happened to Tash—everything she knows is gone. I’m not going to abandon or give up on the people I care about.”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “Does that include me?” Iain swallowed and impatiently awaited her answer. He wanted to matter to Brynn. This wasn’t a fling—it wasn’t temporary. Not for him.
“I do care about you. More than I should.”
“I care about you too, Brynnie. It’s bloody inconvenient, isn’t it?”
She laughed and drew her finger down the length of his tie. “Very. I don’t want to like you, but I can’t seem to help it.” Her navy eyes were full of humor, and her smile made Iain sigh in relief.
“Can we put this behind us?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and used his thumbs to rub the soft skin at the base of her throat.
“Yeah.”
He gave her a heated kiss, and when she wrapped her arms around his waist, Iain’s world shifted back into its proper order. Reluctantly, he lifted his mouth from hers. “I’ll let you get back to it. And I’ll follow your suggestions about morale. I already talked to James in HR.”
She smoothed her hand down his chest. “Give it six months. If it doesn’t work, you can go back to scowling at everyone.”
“Deal. Can I see you tonight?”
“I don’t know. I need to check on Tasha.”
Iain bit his tongue. “I can bring dinner over for the three of us—if I have to.”
She smiled. “I’ll call you, let you know.”
He opened the door.
“Hey,” she said.
Iain glanced back.
“It took a lot for you to come here and apologize. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
* * *
Iain had a lunch meeting with his investment group. These meetings always went on too long. The Pecan Grove was doing a steady business, but no profit yet. One of their busiest nightclubs routinely came up short of money at the end of the night. It had been going on for three weeks now. So the group voted on an audit and an in-house investigation.