“Sounds good to me,” Leo says, following him out.
Leo pauses before going out and glances back over his shoulder. With my heart racing, I press back into the shadows of the corner. Did he see me? I’m not sure how long I stay there, but once I was sure they’d both gone, I gather my things.
I can’t believe what I just heard. Had my bosses really been talking about sharing another woman as casually as if they were talking about sharing a cab? I’m not sure if I’m disgusted or turned on.
I slip out the door and race down the hall, back to my office. But when I turn the corner, I run right into six foot of solid muscle that is Leo Mason. My book and lunch box hit the floor, spilling the contents. Asher reaches out to offer me a steady hand, but I take a step away from them. And of course, trip over my lunch. Leo catches me around my waist, pulling me back into his solid body.
“Are you okay,” Leo asks.
For a brief second, the two men surround me. My heart starts to pound in my chest, and heat floods my system as I remember their conversation. All I could manage is a nod. God, it had been far too long since I’d let a man hold me and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean into Leo’s embrace.
Luckily, my superpower kicked in. Asher’s eyes glaze over, and he turns to Leo—as if I’m not even standing there.
“I’ve got to make that conference call with Beijing,” Asher says. “I’ll let you know how that other issue goes later tonight.”
And just like that, he is gone. Embarrassed that I’d even entertained the idea that their touch could be anything or than polite, I try to pull away. But Leo’s arm is like a vice, holding me tight.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, trying to save face. “I should be more careful.”
“Are you?” he said, in that low caramel voice of his.
“Am I what?” I’m not quite sure what he’s asking because my brain has checked out. Because holy shit Leo Mason is still holding me. His hand rests on the hollow of my back, and my entire body focuses on that one point of contact. There had to be a hard reset button or something back there because my brain goes blank and I can’t think straight. He is hard all over and that smell—woodsy and masculine. It is like catnip to my pussy, and it is all I can do not to rub up against him.
“Are you sorry?” he says, finally letting me go.
I still don’t have the wherewithal to respond, so I just nod.
“Good,” he says and kneels at my feet. I’d forgotten all about my lunch box and book until he glances up, head just inches from my body. That’s when I notice in his hand is the book I’d been reading. Their Slave. His eyes go to the cover, two hot guys wrapped around one half-naked woman, and he smiles like a predatory animal.
“Primrose, right?” he asks getting back to his feet.
“Yes,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry. “My name is Primrose, but I prefer Rose.”
“Hmmm.” His eyes narrow as he looks at me. A lock of golden hair has fallen across his forehead, and I have the irrational urge to push it back. “I think I prefer Rose, too.” That smile widens as he hands back my lunch box and the file I’d been working on. I notice he didn’t hand back the book. “I accept your apology.”
I pull my gaze away from the book and look at him, confused by his word. “My apology?”
God. The man must think I’m an idiot. But I can’t think straight with him standing so close to me.
“Yes, your apology,” he says, stepping around me. “It’s not nice to listen in on other people's conversations.”
My mouth drops open, and I am sure both my cheeks are bright red. He doesn’t wait to see what excuse I have—not that I have one.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rose,” Leo says as he passes.
We are standing in a wide hallway, but his shoulder still brushes mine as he passes, still holding my book.
31
Leo
“The courier dropped off the finalized contracts from your meetings in Austin,” my secretary says as I walk into the office. “And your call with Michael Kelley was pushed back until Wednesday.”
“Thank you,” I say, not bothering to stop. It’s late, and I’m ready to call it a day, but there are a dozen more things on my to-do list. “You should go home. I have a few things to take care of, and I’m going to be here late tonight.”
Sarah shuts her notepad but lingers at the door. Sarah has been with me for years, and I can tell when she’s got something on her mind. But it has been a long fucking day of meetings and travel. My head is pounding, and I don’t have the patience to deal with office niceties today.
“If you have something to say, Sarah, just say it.” I set down the book I’d been reading on the plane and cross my arms, waiting to hear whatever it is that has Sarah’s panties in a bunch.
“Larry Reid called again,” she says, tight-lipped. “I, of course, forwarded the call to legal, but he called back three more times this week.”
“For fuck’s sake, I thought we blocked his number.” I run my hand through my hair and let out a litany of swear word. It isn’t Sarah’s fault the nutjob is harassing us again.
“There were some letters, too,” she says, cautiously. “This time addressed to some of the staff.”
“This has gone on for too long. I have a call with our lawyer tonight. I’ll see if there’s anything he can do.” I tap my finger on the desk. I didn’t want to deal with this tonight, but I’m going to have to. “And have Rickey from the mailroom call me. He needs to be brought in on this.”
“Good,” she says, visibly relieved. “I’ll call Rickey tomorrow and have him come up to see you.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” I say, already making notes for my call. “Go home. I’m more than capable of closing up the office.”
“Mr. Knight is still here,” Sarah says before leaving.
Good. I need to talk to Asher about this shit. Pissing people off is one of the risks with acquisitions. More often than not, someone is unhappy with a buyout offer. Usually, the anger fades when the disgruntled party figures out there isn’t anything they can do to stop us, but this Larry Reid is one of those people that just wouldn’t let things go. The sale of his company has been final for almost a year.
I pick up the phone and dial our lawyer, Roger DuFran. He’s worked with us since we started. He knows Lash Equity almost as well as Asher and I do.
“Leo, how was your trip?” he asks. “Did they agree to all the changes?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I’m holding the signed contracts,” I say, looking over the documents the courier dropped off earlier. “And what about you? How are negotiations going with the Takei brothers?”
“Not well, I’m afraid,” he says with a tight voice. “We’ve stalled out over the terms. The Takei brothers seem to value their company much higher than you’re offering.”
“A typical stall tactic,” I say. “It’s not like we haven’t dealt with think kind of thing before. I’m sure we can find a middle ground.”
“I don’t know. This time we’re pretty far apart,” he says “Perhaps you’re missing something. Maybe you should have your team look at the numbers again.”
This is the last thing I want to hear. Buying the shipping giant Takei Freight is an ambitious move for our company, but I felt it was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. I’ve been pushing hard for our firm to go global. How we handle this buyout will set up Lash for the next ten years, good or bad.
Asher trusts my judgment, and I don’t want to let him down. We have been friends since childhood. Hell, Asher is the closest thing I have to family. The Masons, my adoptive parents, thought of me as more an accessory than a child. Asher had been my neighbor, and we bonded over our shitty parents. We might not be real brothers, but it doesn’t matter. We are family by choice—and that is a more powerful bond in my books.
Together we built this company from the ground up. Asher’s family name and pedigree gave us a degree of legitimacy, but my skill at playing the odds
and strategic risk-taking helped launched us. Our differing styles is the main driving force behind our success. After a few successful takeovers that netted us millions, we had a name in the corporate finance world.
I’m not going to let it all fall apart over one bad deal.
“Maybe we’re missing something,” I say with a sigh. Six months of negotiation and it feels like we’re farther apart than when we started. “Have them send over a current set of financials along with a receivables aging, and I’ll have Asher do another audit.”
“Do you have anyone with experience in Asian Markets?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll have Asher pull together a team.” Although our company is fairly tight knit, Asher does most of the hiring. He will be able to find the right people to do the audit.
Now that the pressing business has been taken care of, I still have the other matter to address. “The cease and desist letter didn’t work. Larry Reid is calling the office again. He’s starting to spook the staff.”
“I’ll work on a restraining order tomorrow. But at this point, I’d advise you to file a harassment suit.”
“Yes on the restraining order, but I’m not sure about suing for harassment. The worst thing he’s done is call and send letters.” I open my desk drawer and pull out the latest. Mostly unintelligible ramblings where he blames us for stealing his company and taking away everything he’s ever cared about. There are some vague threats, but nothing solid. “I’m sure after you file a restraining order, this will fizzle out in a few months.”
“It’s possible,” Roger says. “But it might also escalate. Just think about it. You can always drop the suit later, but it does send a clear message. People tend to take notice when you target their pocketbook.”
“Alright. If you think it will help, go ahead. I don’t have time to deal with that nut job right now.”
“I’ll draft a proposal and have it over to you by the end of the week.”
“Thanks, Roger. I’ll let you know if we need anything else from Takei after I talk with Asher.”
After hanging up the phone, I make my way down to Asher’s office. It’s past nine and the office is dark; the cleaning crew is the only sign of activity. That’s probably why the light coming from the corner cubicle catches my eye.
Our employees are hard workers, but nine on a Friday is a little unusual, even for them. I make a detour and am surprised to see the pretty raven haired girl from the hallway incident hunched over her laptop with stacks of paper covering every surface of her desk.
Rose. Rose who eavesdrops and likes to read dirty books on her lunch break. I clear my throat, and she nearly falls out of her chair.
“Oh, my God. You scared the crap out of me,” she says, clutching her chest with one hand. “I didn’t think anyone was still here.”
“Neither did I,” I say with a chuckle. “Which is why I came over to check. Surely Asher isn’t so much of a slave driver that he’s keeping you here late on a Friday night.”
Her cheeks turn a pretty pink, and she lowers her gaze. “I don’t think Asher even knows I work here,” she says and then shakes her head. “I’m just trying to finish up some things that needed to be reviewed by Monday. Chad was out all week with the flu, and another intern quit this week. No one else has time to pick up the extra work.”
I frown, not happy to hear her reasoning. “Isn’t that what I pay Marcus for? He’s your supervisor. If he’s not staying to pick up the extra work, he shouldn’t make you stay late on a Friday night. Go home. I’ll talk to him on Monday.”
“No!” Rose jumps out of her seat and comes at me, grabbing my arm like a desperate woman. “Don’t get mad at Marcus. I asked for the extra work. I don’t mind staying late.”
“Fine. I won’t rip him a new one,” I say. “Just go home. It’s late.”
Visibly relieved, she lets go of my arm. “I was pretty much finished,” she says and gathers her things.
I notice that she’s not wearing a ring, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have someone waiting at home. “I’m sure your boyfriend will thank me for making you go home.”
“No boyfriend,” she says, slinging a large bag over her shoulder. “But I’ll be able to stop at the Chinese place before it closes. Have a nice weekend.”
Strange. Rose was pretty, in an innocent Midwest farm girl kind of way. But she’s also curvy and soft in the ways a woman should be. She is the kind of woman men snatch up as wives. So the fact that she is here, alone, on a Friday night, instead of out on a date, seems almost unnatural.
“Have a nice weekend,” I say and watch as she disappears into the maze of cubicles. A small part of me wants to follow her and learn all of her secrets. But despite her taste in reading, she’s not the kind of woman who’d be up for what I have to offer.
Sighing, I make my way to Asher’s office. I push open the door and look around, but he isn’t at his desk. His coat is tossed over his chair, so I knew he can’t be far. My mind is still full of questions about the enticing Rose; I flop onto the sofa and kick up my feet.
“Come on, Asher,” I yell at the top of my lungs. “I don’t want to spend all fucking night at the office. We have some things to talk about. And after that, I need a drink.”
Asher strolls out of the adjoining room and shakes his head. “I thought you were going home early.”
“That was the plan, but time just slipped away from me,” I say.
“And that my friend is why you need a distraction. Preferably one with nice curves.”
My thoughts immediately flash back to Rose and that round ass of hers. God. That is a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen. I need to nip that line of thought in the bud. One of the rules Asher and I agreed to years ago was that we wouldn’t dip our pens in the company ink. Employees are strictly off limits. I shake off thoughts of Rose and change the subject.
“We need to decide how we’re going to handle the Takei buyout. Roger suggests we do another audit with someone who has experience with Asian Markets. Do you have anyone on your team?”
Asher drums his fingers on his desk, one of his tells. This buyout has been stressing him. All the more reason to deal with it now, instead of later.
“I hired someone last year who work clerked with Global Financial in their Far East division. I’ll reassign him on Monday,” he says and grabs his jacket. “For now, let’s hit the club. I could use a drink too.”
32
Asher
Primrose Morningstar.
That name sounds like it belongs to a hippy handing out flowers at some new age convention, not an expert in foreign currency. I hardly remember approving her internship. But after reading her resume, I recall why I did. Her experience with Eastern financial markets stood out among the hundreds I get every month. She is perfect—on paper. But she’s been on my team for almost ten months, and I don’t remember having one conversation with her. If it wasn’t for the fact that I personally hire everyone on the accounting team, even the interns, I might not even recognize her.
I stare at her employee record, trying to remember anything about the woman other than her resume. I vaguely remember seeing her around the office. But the photo in her chart doesn’t do her justice. Her long dark hair is pulled back in a severe bun making her look older than her twenty-four. She’s cute, but not breathtakingly beautiful. Some men might even consider her quite plain, but there is something in those big dark eyes that speaks of a depth not everyone possesses. I can usually read people right away. It’s one of the things that’s made me so successful in acquisitions. And beneath that dowdy facade is a woman with secrets.
Why has she slipped my notice for so long?
I glance over her education. She holds dual MSc in finance and international business, graduating top of her class. Her references are glowing. She even speaks fluent Mandarin. I tab over to payroll and see she averages over fifty plus hours a week. Never missed a day. Her performance reviews have top marks. The internship is far below
her potential. By all accounts, she should have been promoted to my consulting team months ago.
I go back to her profile and continue to read through the background check. Before any staff joins the team, I have them checked out by a private security firm—from the janitor to the sales department—no one is exempt. Primrose’s report is straightforward. She was homeschooled. Started college at seventeen. Her mother is some minor celebrity, but Primrose stayed out of the public eye.
By all accounts, she is rather boring. She is single, lives alone, and has no pets. She isn’t dating. The last boyfriend she had was over two years ago. Billy is a librarian. They’d been living together for almost a year. And while it looked like a serious relationship, she’d applied for the internship and left Boston and the boyfriend without looking back
I click on Billy’s name and find myself on Facebook. After scrolling through a month’s worth of photographs of his food, I close the browser. If that’s what Primrose had to look forward to while dating Billy, no wonder she left.
I scowl, looking at her photo again. I’m not sure what exactly it is, but I recognize something in her. I scroll to the bottom of the report. The last update from the security firm was a few months ago. She was still single and no social life to speak of since taking the internship.
I grab the phone and dial Marcus’s extension.
“Hey, boss. What can I do for you?” Marcus asks.
“I need Primrose reassigned to my office for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month,” I say.
“Rose Morningstar?” Marcus says. There’s something in his voice that catches my attention.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” I ask.
“No. I was actually wondering when I was going to get this call,” Marcus says resigned. “She’s my best intern. I swear that woman does the work of three people. I’ll be sorry to lose her.”
“If she’s such a good employee, why haven’t you put her in for a spot on one of my acquisition teams?” I ask. My curiosity about this woman is growing by the second.
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