The Gate (Dark Path Series)

by Grant, KT

  Her friend shrugged, twisting one of her colorful beaded bracelets. “Like you should talk.” She wagged a finger. “I bet the next Tammy and Whiskers book will crack the top ten in children’s fiction.”

  “We’ll see.” The clock on the wall struck the top of the hour. “There’s a companywide meeting where lunch is being served. Dad’s officially announcing his retirement and introducing Chris as his the new CEO.” She stood. “Why don’t you join me, unless you have other plans?”

  “Thanks for the invite. I didn’t have time for breakfast.” Alyson rose from the couch, smoothing the front of her brown dress. “With your dad stepping down, you can stop worrying about him and just seduce Chris.”

  She stopped mid-step. “What are you talking about? We’re just friends.”

  Alyson snorted. “Remember after a night when we drank one too many martinis, you admitted how much you lusted after him?” She rolled her eyes. “Tell him how you feel. What’s the worst that could happen? He says he’s not interested, and you move on. You’re a successful, smart, beautiful woman who should be dating and having lots of sex.”

  She dropped her hand over her friend’s mouth. “Shh! Anyone walking by can hear you.”

  “Anyone can hear you what?”

  She whirled around as Chris entered her office. “Nothing. Just talking about our books.”

  He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her, but instead of pressing her for more information, he looped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Great to see you again, Alyson. How’s New Orleans treating you?”

  When the redhead’s eyes widened, Erika shot her a meaningful look to behave. “Very well. I can’t believe it’s been five years since I moved there. Some people still need to come visit me.” She nudged him, and he laughed.

  “I’ll plan on it sometime soon.” He turned to Erika. “Aren’t you going there for a visit?”

  “Yup. I’m staying for two weeks in January. I’ve never been there, so it should be a lot of fun.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, Dad’s announcement. We better go. He’s a stickler for time.”

  “Hey, Alyson,” he said. “Do you mind going ahead? I need to ask Erika something.”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you two later.” With a wave to them, she rushed to catch the elevator.

  She faced Chris, curious as to what he wanted to talk to her about. Maybe he’ll finally tell me about Maxwell Crawford and their past.

  Setting his hand on her shoulder, he pulled her in for a hug. “Come here.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his chest, the steady beat of his heart thumping in her ear.

  “Thanks. I needed this.”

  She moved back. “What’s going on?”

  Reaching up, he tucked one of her curls behind her ear. “You’ve been so supportive. You were the first to congratulate me after Roger recommended me as his successor. You were also there for me after Natalie and I broke up. I really needed a friend during that time. I can’t ever thank you enough.”

  Face heating under his praise, she scuffed the toe of her shoe across the carpet. “You’re one of my best friends. I…I love you. I want the best for you.”

  “The same goes for me.” He kissed her cheek. “If you don’t have any plans tonight, why don’t we go out to dinner and discuss our…friendship? Afterward, you can come back to my place for a nightcap.”

  Does he mean a sleepover, as in us having sex? “Um, should I go home first, pack an overnight bag?”

  “If you’d like.” He brushed his mouth over hers.

  “It’s a date.” When their lips touched again, it lasted longer, but no tongue was involved like she expected.

  He broke away and rubbed his palms together. “Great. I have a friend who works at Del Fresco’s. We shouldn’t have a problem getting a table. How does seven o’clock sound?”

  Del Fresco’s? She’d always wanted to go to the classy steakhouse where her father’s affluent friends wined and dined clients.

  “Yes! I accept.” Excitement coursed through her veins.

  “Wonderful. After lunch, I’ll make the reservation.”

  “Awesome…I mean thanks.” She wanted to smack her head for her immature slang.

  Not seeming to mind, he gave her another kiss. To her delight, this one involved some tongue action. If he was liberal with his affection in public, it had to mean something.

  “We better get a move on before we miss my time to shine in the spotlight.” He adjusted his tan suit jacket’s lapel. “How do I look?”

  She wished she was bold enough to run her palms down the front of his shirt in the guise of getting rid of the wrinkles. “You look like a million bucks.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.” With a wink, he walked her to the elevators.

  The ride down was short, but just long enough for her to enjoy the way his fingers splayed over her hip, making her nipples bead in anticipation.

  Tonight would be a memorable one.

  ***

  When the knock sounded on the door, Max didn’t tell the person on the other side to enter. He liked to make them wait. He clicked off the author website of Rosie Harper, where he just bought all fourteen of the Tammy and Whiskers books. The door swung open, and Alden strolled in.

  “Common courtesy calls for you to wait to be invited in.” He waved his assistant over to the empty chair in front of his desk.

  “Common courtesy is something you were lacking Friday night when you left me to go to the bathroom and never came back.” Dropping a folder on the desk, he sat. “At least you were gracious enough to let me use the company credit card for drinks. The woman I took home made up for your rudeness.”

  Opening the file, he scanned the pages. He’d heard enough of Alden’s sexual conquests, both male and female, to last him two lifetimes. He settled back in his chair, scanning the year old newspaper article written about Erika as Rosie Harper and the growing popularity of her children’s series.

  “I don’t understand why you want more information on Walsh’s daughter. Everything you needed to know was there in the last report.” He brushed his bangs from his forehead. “Why such the interest in her now?”

  “Rosie Harper is an interesting pen name she’s chosen as an author,” he said, side-stepping the question.

  “It’s not surprising why. Rose is her middle name. Her mother’s maiden name was Harper. I guess she didn’t want people to associate her books with her father, although it’s obvious there’s major nepotism going on.”

  “So what? She has the talent or she wouldn’t be popular with readers. Nepotism can get you so far. Your argument is moot.”

  Alden leaned forward. “Okay, you might have a point, but she also writes a monthly article about celebrities and their pets for one of Walsh’s home and lifestyle magazines. They’re these sickeningly sweet interviews female readers love. It reminds me of the MTV show Cribs, but instead of highlighting million dollar homes, it’s all about the pampered pets of the rich and famous. I bet the animals eat better than I do.”

  He bit down on his thumbnail as he read her professional accomplishments. “Give me the low down on Walsh’s daughter not found in the report.”

  His aide took out a sheet of handwritten notes. “Erika Rose Walsh is twenty-nine, going on thirty in January. She lives in a two-story brownstone with good old dad near Central Park West. What you see is what you get with her. Nothing too fascinating. She’s very close with her father. They do a lot of things together like dinners, the movies, and the theater. She has anxiety attacks in large crowds, but she’s comfortable enough to go jogging in Central Park three times a week and has a membership at a yoga studio. She has a small group of friends, those being fellow author Alyson Whatshername, and Kimberley and Christopher Milton. Christopher is set to take over for Roger Walsh before the summer when he retires. Don’t be surprised if there are wedding bells in the future for Milton and Walsh’s beloved daughter.”

 
Max crumpled the newspaper article. “Milton was far from amused when he saw me talking to Erika at the ceremony. I expected him throw a punch at me.”

  His assistant looked up from his notes. “There’s still hostility between the both of you?”

  He shrugged, unconcerned. Milton had been a thorn in his side for years. “Apparently. But if I were in his shoes, I would react the same way if the woman I cared about fell victim to the man I believe ruined my sister’s life.”

  “Which sister?”

  “The older one who’s mentally imbalanced. She lives in Los Angeles with their parents, or so I’ve been told.” He slapped his palms on his knees, his way of ending the conversation. “I’ve decided Miss Walsh could use me as a friend. We had a nice conversation, and I’d like to see her again.”

  Alden tapped his bottom lip with a thumb. “Just friends? I might’ve been drunk, but I noticed your reaction when you spotted her on stage. Plus, if you do become friends, how will you explain Walsh Publications’ financial problems and your plans to take over when the company files for bankruptcy?”

  “I’ll have to wait and see if that happens. For now, I’m investigating, researching every angle to decide if acquiring the publishing company will benefit Crawford Media as well as bulk up my bank account.”

  “And if you seduce your competitor’s daughter along the way…?” Alden paused with a coy smile.

  “That will be between me and Miss Walsh.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to finish up some work here before my dinner meeting at eight at Del Fresco’s.”

  “Del Fresco’s? Nice.” With another swipe to his bangs, the younger guy rose. “You always come out smelling like a rose anyway. I have no doubt you’ll do so again.”

  “You think you know me, but you don’t.”

  Alden stopped by the door. “You’re right M.L., I have no clue who’s the true man lurking under that suit you’re wearing. Which by the way, the color purple brings out your eyes.”

  He laughed, waving the libertine away. “Leave me in peace.”

  His assistant left, whistling under his breath.

  He clicked his mouse to bring up the Rosie Harper website. Swiping his finger over Erika’s headshot, he imaged how soft her skin must be. He’d gotten a whiff of the slight floral scent on her wrists when he tried kissing her hand. Soon enough, he would sniff her all over while she lay naked under him, begging for release as he pounded into her without mercy.

  Chapter Four

  Delighted, Erika smiled in thanks as Chris requested they be seated near a corner, away from the main dining room. He was such a caring man, always thinking of her comfort. He also pointed out the women’s bathroom in case she needed to excuse herself and use her inhaler. The hostess escorted them to a table with a fantastic view of the Brooklyn Bridge.

  “How’s this?” He pulled out her chair.

  She sat down, nodding in approval at the hostess who gave them their menus and then left. Energized, she was on top of the world with finishing her latest Tammy and Whiskers book. Chris also vibrated with elation over his new position. During the cab ride, he’d held her hand then leaned toward her, giving her a heart-stopping kiss right before they reached their destination.

  “Do you want to share a bottle of wine?” she asked, perusing the wine list.

  “How about champagne instead?” He waved in the direction of the menu she held. “Remember, dinner and drinks are on me.”

  She set down the menu and gave him a mock glare. “Shouldn’t I pay since we’re celebrating your accomplishment?”

  When he reached over, taking her hand in his, her breath caught. She just about melted in her seat, the hungry look in his eyes almost undoing her.

  “We’re both celebrating. My thank you for being such a great friend.”

  Friend? The euphoria evaporated. She couldn’t help but notice the number of times he used the word “friend”—meaning her—when they were together. Maybe she’d been wrong and he wasn’t interested in her romantically. What if he just wanted a friends-with-benefits type of relationship?

  “Hey, I lost you,” he murmured. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  She pushed aside her questions, giving him an amiable smile. “I’m just thinking about which champagne to pick. There are so many, and they’re all expensive—”

  Chris chuckled. “Sorry, I’m not mocking you. But you’re thinking of something else besides what we should drink.”

  “Oh?” She arched an eyebrow. “You know my innermost thoughts?”

  “Not the deep rooted ones, but I’ve known you for so long. I can pretty much tell when you want to ask me something but are afraid to.” He tilted his head in a way she found both sexy and adorable. “What’s on your mind?”

  She licked her lips, working up the courage to tell him, but their server came over for their drink order. Chris picked a mid-priced champagne.

  “You’re right.” She plucked the tablecloth. “I’ve been wondering about our relationship. I get the feeling you want more from me but something is stopping you. We’ve always been good friends, but ever since your breakup with Natalie…that night we shared together….” She shut her eyes, hoping her speech didn’t sound as lame as it did to her.

  When he didn’t respond, she opened her eyes again. He drank his water, his gaze focused on the window behind her. She wanted to take his hand, but wasn’t sure if he would let her. Not willing to take the chance he might pull away, she took a roll from the basket, buttering it.

  “You’re right.” He nodded. “I’ve been relying on you more than I should. You’ve always understood me. My other friends are too concerned about work and their families. I feel like the odd man out as a single one again.”

  “You and me both!” she said, her voice rising to a girlish pitch. She settled herself, concentrating on her roll.

  “The next few weeks are going to be difficult. Nat and I were planning a Thanksgiving wedding. We wanted to get married on Black Friday. Make it a big party where everyone would drink, eat, and have fun.”

  She set her bread on her plate. “Kim explained to a point what destroyed your relationship. I wanted to ask you, but I didn’t want to be nosy.” She laid her hand palm-up on the table, hoping he would get the idea of holding it. “All I know is you ended things when you found out Natalie cheated on you.”

  “She cheated on me a few times. I was never the type of boyfriend who smothered her, expecting us to be together every day. She liked her freedom, and I liked mine. So when she went out with her girlfriends without me, I didn’t mind.” Grabbing a roll, he ripped it in two. “But then I found out what type of clubs she went to and what she did there.”

  “She had one night stands or was fooling around with bartenders?” she asked in a soft voice.

  He grimaced. “Not at first, but then she went to a few sex clubs in the city. Started screwing around with the men there.”

  She almost choked on her bread. “Are you serious? I’ve heard of those clubs, but I had no idea there were any in the area.”

  “You can find them online. A close friend of hers is into them, so much so, she started working at one. Nat used to joke about how her friend had a closet full of leather outfits and sex toys. They went to the village to visit the fetish clothing stores, too.” He slathered butter on half of the roll. “She became addicted to the lifestyle. Got tired of me and our boring sex life.”

  Uncomfortable with the way the conversation was headed, she took his hand. To her surprise, he linked their fingers. “It’s not your fault. I couldn’t tell you one person I know who’d admit they liked being tied up and whipped in front of people at some dingy club.”

  “You have met someone who’s into the scene.”

  “Who? Please don’t tell me it’s Kim or—”

  “Crawford owns an underground sex club.”

  Shock flowed through her body. No way! “You mean Max, M.L. Crawford you flipped out at me about on Friday night? But he’s so….”
>
  “Erika, you talked to him for what, not even a half-hour? I’ve known him for years. There’s something not right about him. He’s dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” She shook her head. “But then, you know more about him than I do. And since you brought him up, spill. What did he do to make you not like him?” She covered her mouth as a possible reason popped in her head. “Do you think Natalie slept with him and they had kinky sex?”

  He scowled.

  She gulped down the rest of her water. Insert foot into mouth, you idiot!

  “Not that I know of. She’s not his type. He likes women who are broken, easy to manipulate.”

  She lurched back. What does that make me then? “How do you know?” she asked.

  He tapped his finger on the table. “I know because he damaged my—”

  “Chris, my man!”

  When she recognized the man in the suit approaching them, she swallowed a groan.

  “Mitch!” Chris jumped up.

  Both men slapped each other’s back. She rose from her chair to greet the top sale rep for the general fiction book division at Walsh.

  “Congratulations on everything. I’m at a table with a group from the sales department.” Mitch glanced between the two of them. “It looks like you haven’t eaten yet. Why not join us? We can toast to your success, Mister Newly Coined President of Walsh Publications.”

  She wanted to drop down in her seat and cross her arms like a petulant child. She wasn’t in the mood for a large group. She wanted to stay with Chris in their little corner talking. She’d hoped at end of dinner, he would invite her to his place for dessert, where she could at last help him recover from his fiancée’s betrayal.

  “Sounds great.” He turned to her, his eyes bright, his smile inviting. “What do you say? You’ll be all right dining with a few more people.”

  She sighed internally. Even though her anxiety condition was known, it wasn’t common knowledge spread among her father’s employees.

  “Sure, why not? Sounds like fun.” She gave both men a polite smile she hoped hid her true feelings.