When It Hits You (The It Series Book 1)

by Nicki Elson

  “More like an unsweetened latte, then?”

  “Bingo.”

  He lifted his briefcase from where it sat at his feet and gestured toward the revolving door. “Ready to save the world one retirement fund at a time?”

  They took a cab to Delicious Hawaii’s office and were sent to a small conference room where they met a staff of four—two men and two women, ranging in age from mid-thirties to well over fifty.

  “Call me Shep,” the most senior of the group said as he stood and shook their hands. Lyssa and Hayden both knew he was DH’s chief financial officer, Randall Shepherd. He spoke with a southern accent and, as he explained, had flown up the day before from the company’s headquarters outside of Dallas.

  Gloria Bluthe, a senior vice president, was the only one of the four based in Chicago. After shaking hands, she returned to her seat at one end of the table and clicked away at her laptop, projecting graphics onto a screen that covered the opposite wall. For the next hour and a half, she and the other executives took turns reviewing the history of Delicious Hawaii’s pension fund. Along the way, Hayden asked several questions, and Lyssa chimed in, too, taking notes as they gathered information.

  “As you see,” Shep said in conclusion, “we haven’t done a thorough review of the funds for over a decade, and the program’s tired. It’s doing fine but not great, and we’re starting to feel like the pretty girl who never gets asked to the dance.”

  “Most investors are struggling with how to adapt to the current financial climate,” Hayden said. “But your program’s solid. Rather than turn everything upside down, we’ll approach our analysis with an eye toward keeping what works while introducing new blood to resuscitate the weaker areas.”

  The lines in Shep’s leathery face creased as he broke into a wide grin. “That’s precisely what we’re hoping for.” He glanced around at his comrades. “Looks like Beecher wasn’t bullshitting when he said he’d give us a ringer.”

  The finance officer from Dallas cleared her throat, and all eyes turned toward her. “In addition to technical analysis, we’ll require onsite visits with all of our existing investment managers.” She pushed two binders across the table to Hayden and Lyssa. “These are identical packets with summary information on each of our managers.”

  Hayden opened his folder, fingering through the stacks of paper. “Onsite visits are a critical part of our process. Nothing can replace meeting face-to-face—it’s shocking what you can learn about a person simply by knowing how they prefer their coffee.”

  Lyssa caught the wry twitch at the corner of her partner’s mouth. She knew it was intended for her, though he kept his blue eyes fixed on the papers.

  “Before the general review begins,” Gloria continued, “we have a matter that requires immediate attention.”

  “Blaze Capital Management,” Hayden interjected.

  Gloria’s eyes popped wide for a moment and she almost smiled. “You’re quick.” Clicking back a few screens, she highlighted a row of numbers. “They lost several top-tier professionals when they were taken over by Torchwood International and have consistently underperformed ever since. We want to replace them as soon as possible.”

  Shep’s voice rumbled out in a deep chuckle. “We’ll give you pups a chance to prove yourselves right out of the gate. If we like what we see, we’ll let you stick around for the rest of the project.” He winked, but his measured smile told them he was dead serious.

  Hayden and Lyssa flipped their notepads to fresh sheets of paper and dove into the essential questions. After Lyssa had exhausted her limited repertoire, Hayden continued on for a while. By the time they left, they’d filled several pages with notes.

  On the cab ride back to Fox & Keaton’s office building, they made a game plan. Hayden laid out what needed to be done and asked where she preferred to contribute. Because he wasn’t being a domineering jerk about it, she didn’t mind volunteering to do the grunt work of running statistics to narrow the field of potential candidates.

  “In the meantime,” Hayden said as they exited the cab and approached their building, “I’ll go through the usual suspects to see if any could be a fit for DH. You up for a trip next week?”

  “Project Pineapple is my top priority. Count me in.”

  Hayden held out an arm, offering Lyssa first dibs on the revolving door. As she made the rotation, she doubted Hayden had been in on the pineapple joke. He entered the lobby behind her, and as their shoes clicked across the shiny tile to the elevator, he asked, “Do you give all your clients nicknames?”

  “Are you collecting more information to add to the cream no sugar data?”

  Hayden laughed and pushed the up button. “Maybe.”

  “Should we tell the reports team to get working on a new chart? Maybe a line graph made of little coffee beans? Or should this be three-dimensional to take into account cream and sugar ratios in addition to nickname giving?”

  “Laugh all you want, Bates. My methods work.”

  She shook her head as the elevator arrived and they stepped in.

  One side of Hayden’s mouth rose in a smirk, and his eyes locked onto hers. “You’re just afraid of what I might’ve already figured out about you.”

  There was no way he’d learned anything about her beyond knowing how she liked her coffee. And yet…there was something unnerving about the steadiness of his gaze. She refused to be the first to look away, even though she’d begun to feel her pulse beating at the base of her throat, a precursor to a full-on blush. Intelligence was one of her top turn-ons, and his penetrating eyes, surrounded by thick, dark lashes, were loaded with it.

  The door slid open, and they simultaneously broke the staring contest to give the receptionist a nod as they passed into the main hall.

  “So…” Lyssa started, but he cut her off with the answer before she’d formed her question.

  “Strong and black.” He pivoted toward his office. As he moved down the hall in the opposite direction of Lyssa’s cubicle, she was glad she couldn’t see the smug grin that surely graced his far-too-handsome features.

  “You’re already so delicious,” Keith murmured. His lips groped Lyssa’s neck as he worked his way to her chin and then straight down to her breasts bulging over the top of her cami. She wore only that and a pair of bikini panties.

  Earlier that evening, she and her boyfriend had cut into the congratulatory pineapple he’d bought her the week before. They wanted to test the urban legend they’d heard about the effect of the tropical fruit on the flavor of certain bodily fluids. They’d agreed Keith should go first since Lyssa deserved the first reward of the pineapple.

  His hands pushed under the elastic of her undies and clutched at her fleshy bottom while his tongue pushed below her thin top to flick at a protruding nipple. “God, Lyss, you’re beautiful,” he said between mouthfuls.

  She held his dirty blond head to her chest and pushed her pelvis against him, letting him know she was ready. She usually needed a warm-up before he stuck his face between her legs. He pushed his body into hers until she lay sideways across the open futon. Then he kissed down her body. Once he reached his goal, he pulled off the fabric that covered it.

  His tongue was warm and wet as he probed. Lyssa kept her smile tight, holding back a laugh at the tickle of his initial contact. As she acclimated to the steady rhythm of his licks, she relaxed. “Any sweeter?” she asked.

  He pulled back slightly, and she felt his breath on her wetness as he huffed. “You’re always sweet, baby. But yeah, maybe a little sweeter.” He gave her several small kisses and then went in deeper, reemerging a moment later to add, “I’m sure the big payoff will happen when you come.”

  “Ah.” Leaning her head all the way back, she closed her eyes, thinking, No pressure. Oral stimulation didn’t always bring her to orgasm.

  While Keith worked at her, she hitched one leg over his shoulder and combed her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. She didn’t want to disappoint him by not
climaxing—especially tonight, when it promised to pour forth piña colada-flavored juices. She relished his tender ministrations and did what she could to coax his head to the angle she desired. When he hit a particularly receptive spot, she encouraged him with a soft, “Yeah, that’s good.” But after a couple more swipes, he failed to re-strike the chord and moved on.

  It all felt very nice, but Lyssa found herself yearning for…more. The vibrator was in the drawer of the side table. Reaching her arm over her head, she stretched her fingers but swiped at air, inches away from the drawer pull. She could ask Keith to hold on for a moment while she grabbed the toy and fired it up, but her intuition told her that after kicking him out of bed the week before, it wouldn’t be wise to pre-empt him in favor of her new favorite gadget. Even still, as enthusiastic as his tongue was, it simply wasn’t humanly possible for him to reach the speeds she now craved. Maybe if she slowly eased the device into their activity, he wouldn’t mind.

  Digging one of her heels into the mattress and pushing into it, she slowly inched herself across the bed. Keith followed along, not seeming to notice. She made a quick lunge, grabbing at the drawer. The motion tilted her pelvis, causing her thigh to crush into her boyfriend’s ear.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He jerked his head away and stared at her outstretched arms. Three of her fingertips rested on the drawer pull.

  “I…I thought maybe it wouldn’t hurt to bring some vibration into the action.” The way his eyebrows flinched stopped her from pursuing the toy. She brought her arms down and pushed up on her elbows. “It was just an idea.”

  “How exactly are both me and that supposed to be down here?”

  She gave a small shrug. “I was thinking this could get me going and then you could swoop in for the kill at the last moment.”

  “At the last moment.” He flopped onto his back. “Because I’m not capable of working you up to that point. Did you not enjoy it at all?”

  “What? Yes.” She scooted down the mattress so her head was even with his and leaned over him, tracing his lean chest muscle with her thumb. “It felt really nice.”

  “Nice? Now there’s a ringing endorsement—‘He gives nice head.’”

  Lyssa laughed. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to put out an ad for you. Why would I do that when I want to keep you all to myself?” She peppered his chin with baby kisses and worked down his throat to his nearly hairless chest, relishing the feel of his firm, smooth muscles under her warm mouth. He was a runner and also dabbled in martial arts and whatever else was the current rage in nerd culture. While most of her friends were into muscle mass, she’d always had a thing for skinny guys with hidden power in their taut, wiry frames. She slid her tongue over him, taking turns teasing each of his nipples into a stiff nubbin. “Let’s forget about me and move on to you, hm? I’m thirsty for a pineapple-Keith daiquiri.”

  He didn’t object.

  Chapter 3

  HAYDEN WAVED AT LYSSA. She’d made it to O’Hare International Airport a full ten minutes earlier than planned. Her partner stood in front of the check-in kiosks with his overnight bag at his feet and his boarding pass in the hand he’d just flagged her down with.

  “You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said, thinking her partner was being extra considerate.

  Then he set her straight. “This way I’d know sooner if you were late and would be able to call to give you a nudge.”

  “How did you know I wasn’t already at the gate?” They’d gelled better than she’d expected while working together during the past week, but he had an annoying habit of second-guessing her.

  His only answer was a noncommittal shrug. “Did you already print your pass?”

  “Yep.”

  They walked over to the line for security, and she updated him on the slight changes to their itinerary. They were flying to New York to interview two contenders to replace Blaze Capital Management in DH’s investment program. After that, they’d catch a quick flight to Boston to meet with Bell Funds, the third candidate.

  After weaving through the tethered maze and holding their arms up for the scanner, they waited for their bags to be ferried through their own scan. Lyssa snatched her zip-locked toiletries, purse, and shoes as soon as the conveyor belt brought the tray to her, but her carry-on bag reversed back into the machine. The security officer studied the screen. “Gonna have to search it.” He started the conveyor belt again, lifting her bag when it emerged and taking it to a side table.

  Lyssa shoved her ankle-high boots onto her feet and hobbled over to the table mid-zip so she could keep an eye on what was happening with her bag. By the time she straightened to stand all the way up, Hayden was right behind her with his shiny black shoes tied and his jacket neatly draped over his arm.

  “You can head for the gate if you want,” Lyssa said. “Oh, and coffee’s on me this time, if you don’t mind getting it.” She reached into her purse for her wallet.

  “You can buy, but I’ll wait.”

  When Lyssa turned toward him, she saw his attentive blue eyes fixed on the contents of her bag. She could only imagine what he thought he was learning about her as he watched the airport guy paw through her belongings. Returning her focus to the bag, she squelched a gasp when the guy pulled her makeup case from the bottom and unzipped it. His gloved fingertip pushed aside eyeliners and lipsticks to reveal a baggie containing a four-inch-long, white tube. It had a clear, spiky rubber cap on the end, which Lyssa hoped wasn’t obvious through the wrinkled plastic encasing it. The on/off switch along the side was pretty hard to miss, though.

  The man closed the makeup case and returned it to the bottom of her luggage. “You’re good to go,” he said as he zipped her bag and pushed it toward her.

  She refused to look at Hayden. They’d just walk down the hall to the gate, return to business talk, and that would be that. A Pocket Rocket in a woman’s overnight bag was no big deal, she assured herself. No need to discuss. And then, about halfway down the hall, the silence got to her. Glancing toward him, she blurted, “It’s a flashlight. In case of emergency.”

  “Uh huh.” Hayden kept his eyes straight ahead. The twitch at the corner of his mouth implied he didn’t believe her, but he let the subject drop.

  New York City was warm, but the ocean breeze cut the humidity. During a pit stop in a public restroom after an eight-block walk between the first and second meeting, Lyssa blotted off her thin layer of sweat with just a few squares of institutional toilet paper. When she stepped back into the worn lobby, she didn’t see Hayden and wondered if he’d proceeded to the investment manager’s fourth-floor suite without her. Her mind eased when the men’s room door creaked open.

  Her partner had removed his jacket and loosened his tie during the walk, but now every thread was back in place. He once again looked like the poster boy for a “Hottest Men on Wall Street” list. They traversed the cracked and yellowing floor tile to the bank of ancient elevators. As he reached to push the brass button, he said, “I think you should take the lead on this one.”

  “What? Me?”

  “Yeah, you.” His steely eyes fixed on her. If he hadn’t been holding his briefcase, Lyssa was sure he’d have been folding his arms across his chest in a dare. “Think you can handle it?”

  Lyssa nodded with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. She’d led a few brief, introductory meetings with investment managers before, but nothing as in-depth as what they planned for that day and never on the manager’s home turf. But her experience in the business world had taught her that the ability to pretend she knew what she was doing was often more valuable than actually knowing. So when the ding sounded, she slid on a smile. “No problem. Follow my lead and try to keep up.” Winking, she resisted the urge to condescendingly slap Hayden’s tight rear as she moved past him into the elevator.

  On the way up, he gave her a few helpful pointers, but three steps before the entrance to Ardent Capital’s suite, he added, “Watch your um’s and stop biting you
r erasers.”

  She halted and turned to glare at him. Why would he throw her off like that right before walking in?

  “It’s never a good idea to start out too cocky.” Side-stepping around her, he crossed to the door and pulled it open, gesturing her through. She was too irritated—and nervous—to even glance toward him as she brushed past. She wished she’d have thought to hold her breath so she wouldn’t have taken in the tantalizing scent of his now familiar cologne. She wanted to be mad at him—not tempted to lick him.

  During the meeting, Hayden pulled back while Lyssa dug into Ardent’s investment process and depth of professionals. On the tour of the facilities that followed, Hayden’s natural tendency to lead took over. Lyssa didn’t mind the opportunity to let him do the work of questioning while she sat back and observed.

  When she and her partner were once again alone, side-by-side as the tiny elevator lowered to the ground floor, he nudged her shoulder with his. “You did a good job in there.”

  Tiny, happy sparks snapped inside her. “Thanks,” she said, trying to douse the elation she felt from his compliment—he didn’t need more food for his ego.

  In the cab and at the airport, they both checked their phones and returned messages. They didn’t get around to discussing that day’s meetings until after they’d settled in on the short flight to Boston.

  “What did you think?” Hayden asked.

  “Of which one?” Lyssa turned from her view of the clouds.

  “Both.”

  “Everything seems to check out. I didn’t note any red flags, so I don’t see any reason not to recommend either one of them.”

  “DH isn’t looking for managers with no reason not to hire them—we’ve got to give them reasons to hire them. Frankly, I don’t think either one is the best fit.”

  “Why not? They’ve got decent track records, impressive staff, sound processes.”