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Breach of Trust

Page 11

by Kimber Chin


  Anne watched the interaction from her seat at the desk. Philippe's handsome face glowed with happiness as the blonde wrapped herself around him. Although he only came up to her shoulders, they were an eye-catching couple.

  "What no kiss for me?” Gregory also appeared at the doorway, and Denise hurried to do the honors.

  Great, the whole gang is here. A regular good times reunion. Anne, feeling very much like an outsider as they chatted, opened back up the latest business plan and buried herself in it. She sensed him approach before he spoke.

  "So I take it from Denise's happiness, Cherie, that you didn't kick her to the curb like you did poor Henri.” Philippe's husky voice dropped in volume so only Anne could hear.

  Her heart skipped a beat, with him sitting casually on the edge of her desk. Philippe wore another dark navy suit, a rich blue tie, blue lined white cotton shirt, even his shoes were buffed and polished. But it wasn't about the power suit, more how he wore it. Confident. Cocky.

  Her intense attraction to Philippe made Anne overly blunt. “You saw the plan."

  Philippe furrowed his brow, his long dark eyelashes flickering. “Months ago. I barely remember it."

  He must be thinking of the old plan. “No, no, the new plan. Denise sent you a copy last week."

  "Not to me.” Philippe shrugged like confidential documents disappeared all the time at his company. “Does it look half decent?"

  "Better than half decent.” Anne pushed her concerns away. It wasn't her place to comment on how he ran his own business. “It's solid, deserving of further investigation."

  "Did you hear that Dee? Anne thinks your plan's solid,” Philippe repeated louder so his ex-girlfriend could hear. “That's a real compliment coming from my hired gun."

  Blackmailed gun more accurately.

  "Isn't Anne nice, Philippe?” Denise laughed, drifting closer, her arm around the blond lawyer.

  "Once again, I'm not nice,” Anne muttered, completely disgruntled. How many times do I have to say it?

  "She's right, Denise.” Philippe's grin grew. “I don't think Anne knows how to be nice. She's a little too honest for that."

  "Sure, she's a real bastard,” Denise informed the group.

  "Denise!” Gregory granted Anne an apologetic look.

  "It's okay. She told me she's a bastard,” Denise explained. Not that Anne had, but then she hadn't refuted Denise's proclamation either.

  "That explains everything. Like attracts like, right, Cherie?” Philippe purred.

  Gregory stepped in to defend her, “I don't think Anne's a bastard. Just the opposite, she's always very nice to me."

  Defending her or not, Anne didn't like the spin Gregory put on the last comment. Sounded like she gave him more than friendly hellos and smiles in the morning.

  "She's nice to me also,” Denise confirmed more innocently, “And Stanley says that, what does he call you, Anne?” Her face scrunched up and Anne groaned. Here it comes. “Annie-kin, that's it. He says Annie-kin is all bluster, no punch, a cream puff dressed up as a sledgehammer."

  "Annie-kin” Gregory repeated, his eyes lingering on Anne's face a little too long. His glances, she didn't know why, they made her feel uncomfortable.

  And that nickname was spreading like the blasted flu. Great. Add that to her growing list of problems. “Remind me to kill Stanley.” Anne frowned up at Philippe's laughing face.

  He was no help. “Ahh, Cherie.” Philippe rubbed her shoulder, his body so near she felt it shaking.

  His amusement didn't last long, Denise not done with her storytelling. “Did you know that Philippe kissed Stanley?” she confided to the lawyer.

  "No! Really? Philippe?” Gregory's attention switched to his friend.

  "Need any help hiding the body?” Philippe asked Anne.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Nine

  Philippe smothered a smile as Anne impaled a few leaves of lettuce with the tines of her fork, a look of complete determination on her face. She struggled to finish her food, not willing to waste any of it. It was her second lunch of the day. Anne used that reasoning to try to wiggle out of this impromptu celebration but Philippe wouldn't allow her. For some not to be explored reason, it was important to him that she be there.

  Since her situation was fully his fault, it was only fair that he help her out. Philippe, without bothering to ask, picked up her plate and moved some salad to his own. Rabbit food, not his favorite, but his sacrifice made her happy. She darted a silent look of thanks his way.

  Denise and Gregory chatted up a storm across from them, allowing Philippe to devote full attention to his little sparrow. Anne didn't need to be the center of attention, content to sit back and listen, letting others carry the conversation.

  And Denise was more than happy to. The woman could talk, one of the many reasons that she was not compatible with Philippe. It was difficult to think clearly with so much verbal clutter. No, he was more than content with the silences he shared with Anne, each exploring their own thoughts before opening their mouths. Philippe could be assured that Anne wouldn't unload half-cocked ideas onto his already full mental lap.

  "Didn't know you to be a salad eater, Philippe,” Denise piped up, indicating his plate. It formerly held a perfectly grilled steak and mashed potatoes. As far from salad as possible.

  "I'm trying to eat healthy to make up for dessert.” Philippe put the dessert menu between Anne and himself. “What say you, Anne, to sharing some decadence with me?” His face was a picture of innocence though he fully intended the double meaning. He looked over the listing. Something with a spoon for her to suck on would be preferable.

  "I'd love to but I don't think I have any room left.” Anne tugged at the waistband of her pants. Philippe caught a tantalizing glimpse of white lace and then almost growled out loud as he realized Gregory leaned towards Anne also.

  Trouble. Big Trouble. Gregory had been sneaking looks at Anne all through the meal, acting the gentleman, oh so considerate. It wasn't the way that Gregory would treat a girlfriend of a friend. Philippe didn't like it, he didn't like it one bit. He draped his arm along the booth behind Anne, making his possession of her attentions clear to the lawyer. “No room?"

  "None at all.” She sighed regretfully, unaware of the sudden tension at the table.

  "Not even for such sensual pleasures?” Anne wouldn't appreciate this heavy-handed approach but the demon in him demanded he drive the point home with all the finesse of a demolition derby.

  He was right. She didn't appreciate it and frowned. “Especially not for those."

  "Philippe, you can share the apple pie with Gregory and me,” Denise threw out as a peace offering.

  "I'd even let you have a little taste before I do,” Gregory had the nerve to tell him.

  Little taste? Philippe had the burning urge to give his friend's handsome face a little taste of his fist. “Aren't you afraid I'll want the whole thing?"

  Gregory's lips turned upwards but his eyes didn't share the smile. “I doubt that would happen, dear friend. There are too many desserts out there for you to sample."

  "Alrighty then.” Denise was not amused as she put in the order. “One piece of apple pie it is, and three forks."

  Philippe dared to look at Anne. She watched him with those big brown eyes, sweetly concerned. That was his girl, oblivious of her effect on two seemingly grown men.

  "Gregory, do you have some spare time this afternoon?” Anne used the gap in conversation to ask. “Sylvie's trying to pull the team together so I can meet with you all briefly."

  Mon Dieu. The team. Philippe remembered the long nights of hashing out contract details. They'd be spending a lot of time together, Anne and Gregory.

  Gregory's blue eyes flashed in triumph. “My entire afternoon is yours if you wish, Anne."

  She bit her full bottom lip, drawing Philippe's gaze to her mouth. No doubt that was where Gregory looked too, that dog. “Well, I don't think I need that long."

  "G
ood, because I'd like to talk with you, Gregory, when we return to the office.” Philippe had to clear the air before Gregory and Anne started spending time alone. He would go insane otherwise.

  "You boys will behave, won't you?” Denise pleaded.

  * * * *

  An hour later, they were behaving, being perfectly civil. But then they hadn't started talking yet. Gregory slouched in the guest chair, like a child about to get a scolding, and Philippe rustled some paper, trying to think of a way to broach the topic without sounding like a raging Neanderthal.

  "I think Anne's a great girl,” Gregory finally offered, “She's very intelligent. She has a good heart. She's good looking in a quiet sort of way, the way that I usually like. You may go for the va-va-va-voom blondes but me, I like my women like Anne, classy and dignified."

  Except there are no other women quite like Anne. There is only Anne and ... "She's mine, Gregory.” So much for delicate positioning.

  "I know that.” He picked a piece of lint off his suit jacket. “I would never impinge on your turf."

  "Then what exactly are you doing?” Philippe reminded himself that Gregory was his best friend.

  "I'm ensuring that I'm next in line."

  "What?” Philippe sprang from his chair, the thought of the good-looking lawyer touching his sparrow making Philippe see red. He paced to the window, his fists clenched at his side. I will not hit Gregory, I will not hit Gregory, I will not hit Gregory.

  "You know, like Derek did with Denise,” Gregory explained.

  "That was different.” Philippe scowled. Oui, Derek was Philippe's friend also, et oui, Denise was Philippe's girlfriend at the time, et oui aussi, Philippe noticed Derek moving in before they broke up but that was different.

  "How?"

  How? What to tell him? There was no logical explanation except for “That was Denise, this is Anne."

  "If it were Suzanne...?"

  Gregory and Suzanne. Now, that would be a good solution. Philippe wouldn't have to worry about Gregory with Anne, and Suzanne would stop bothering him. “You have my blessing with Suzanne."

  "No thanks. She's not my type. Comes across as fake. A little too desperate too.” Gregory walked to stand beside him, the fool. If he knew how Philippe felt, he wouldn't be within beating range. “But if Anne and Suzanne's positions were switched..."

  "If I ended it,” Philippe supplied, trying to think this through rationally. He had to see this from his friend's point of view. Normally Philippe scrambled for the exits as soon as he became involved with a woman. Gregory couldn't know that the thought of Philippe not being with Anne again, not talking to her, was unimaginable.

  "Then yes, I'd be interested. Anne's a rare find, a one in a million woman, I'd be a fool not to."

  "And I'd be a fool to walk away from her.” Philippe knew in his soul that was true. “And if I never ended it? What would you do then?"

  Gregory stepped back, his face frozen with shock. “I, you ... what? My friend, I had no idea."

  "I trust her,” was all Philippe said in explanation. He didn't have to say more. The people he truly trusted he could count on his fingers. Gregory knew that.

  "You trust her?” Gregory sounded like he found that hard to believe. “That was fast."

  It was, very fast. “When I see a bargain, I move. That's what has made me so successful in life. No hesitation.” And Anne was the true deal in every sense of the word.

  "You do, Philippe.” Gregory didn't appear that heart broken. He stretched out his hand to grasp his, pounding Philippe's shoulder with the other. “That is great news. Wow, I never thought to see the day."

  "It's early yet,” Philippe cautioned but his grin grew. This was when he should be flipping out over commitment. Instead it felt good. It felt right.

  * * * *

  Anne, in contrast, felt terrible. The two lunches were not setting well with her, her poor little tummy uncomfortably stretched. Then there was the tension between Gregory and Philippe over that second lunch. What that was about, she didn't know. Could be due to Gregory flirting so outrageously with Denise. Philippe would still have some feelings for the gorgeous blonde.

  Who wouldn't? She was beautiful, intelligent and nice. Philippe was no dummy; he must have noticed Denise's sterling qualities. To top it all off, should they have a celebration luncheon at this early point in the analysis? What if it fell through on some minor point tomorrow? Philippe would be so disappointed in her. It was a lot of pressure. She wanted to help Denise out, and she wanted success for her own ego—and she definitely didn't want to let Philippe down. Anne had worked hard to impress him.

  Mrs. Depeche, Sylvie she could call her now, knocked on the office door and entered. “Here are the copies I made of the Be My Guest business plan for your meeting."

  Anne was grateful for the interruption. “Sylvie, thank you so much, but you didn't have to put a rush on them. You had enough on your plate for this afternoon."

  "It's important you make a good first impression, Anne.” Philippe's executive assistant wouldn't meet her eyes, like she knew something but didn't feel comfortable sharing it.

  "I could have talked to the points and distributed the plans later.” Anne thumbed through the pages. “The team would have understood."

  "Not all of the team,” was muttered under the older woman's breath. She did know something. Anne suppressed the urge to ask. Whatever it was, Anne would handle it. No sense pressing their new found truce for a trivial matter.

  Trivial or not, it added to her already strained nerves around this first meeting. Anne, on her way to the boardroom, glanced at Philippe's closed door. Gregory was still in there. Sylvie would direct him to the meeting as he exited. Anne hoped he wouldn't be long. With the lawyer in the room, at least one person would be on her side.

  She arrived to find the group huddled together. At her entrance they scattered, breaking into smaller groups. A meeting before the meeting—no doubt about the new project manager. That was normal, Anne supposed. She couldn't hold that against them.

  She went around the room, talking with each member of the cross-functional project team. Although this was her first Lamont Ventures business analysis, the rest of the team had worked closely together before. Anne, prior to this meeting, made a point of getting to know each team member, sitting down to better understand what each person did. She felt that she had made some pretty good connections with everyone.

  With everyone except Kevin Maple. Their relationship had started rough and gone downhill. The executive resented her for some reason. And just her luck, Kevin was in the room already, talking with the finance rep. Anne dreaded making small chat with him but she couldn't avoid it. Not as the project lead and not without making it obvious.

  "Kevin, I'm glad you could make it on such short notice.” She extended her hand.

  His grip was a bone crusher, Anne managing to hide her pain with a smile. “Yes, the short notice was unfortunate. Proper planning is essential to smooth project management."

  His point being that if she planned better, she wouldn't call rush meetings. “But when an exciting opportunity presents itself, as it did this afternoon, a good manager should move as quickly as possible to capitalize upon it."

  Kevin wasn't letting this go without a fight. “And as quickly as possible requires taking two long lunches in the same day?"

  So he was watching her. “If the lunch is with a prospective business partner, then yes, it does.” Anne noticed with relief that Gregory entered the room. “And on that note, we will get started."

  Anne handed out copies of the business plan, going over the broad points, sharing the issues that they should look out for. She also handed out the timeline, based on previous successful projects, with dates and people responsible.

  At first the team was disenfranchised, staring at her with blank, dead eyes. They responded to her questions with the shortest of answers and didn't volunteer information. Anne caught them sneaking looks at Kevin before speaking.
That didn't faze Anne. She had years of experience getting apathetic teenagers excited about business opportunities. In contrast, a highly driven, educated team was a breeze.

  So fifteen minutes into the meeting, most of the team ranged between acceptance and enthusiasm. They had a few solid concerns that Anne addressed quickly. Most of the team. Not all.

  Kevin, the source of Anne's problems, asked question after question after question, many unreasonable for such an early point in the analysis. Anne gritted her teeth, plowing away at answering as best she could, her game-face on, unwilling to show her dissatisfaction in front of the group.

  "Has anyone else, besides yourself, met with the business owner?” Kevin stood as he asked each question, his superior height making Anne uncomfortable.

  "At this point, no. As the project manager, I didn't feel it necessary,” Anne responded, her chin tilted up in defiance.

  "You didn't feel it necessary,” Kevin mocked, implying that the opposite was true, “so we're to rely only on your opinion? Someone who has been with the company a little over a month?"

  Anne could hear the gasp from the rest of the group, Kevin going too far this time. Her eyes did not waver from the VP's face. “I'm heading this project, so yes, yes you are."

  "I don't know about the rest of you,” Kevin looked around the room for support. “but I have a concern with that."

  "Really.” So this was the goal of the pre-meeting. Kevin was staging a coup. Well, he could try. If he'd listen, Anne would tell him not to waste his time. She wasn't going anywhere.

  She slowly and deliberately went around the table, staring down each team member. The goal was to ensure that the group knew she was a force to be reckoned with, to gauge support, and to put a human face on the leader they were trying to oust. What she saw was a bunch of fence sitters, no one holding her gaze for more than a couple seconds, content to stay neutral, to let Kevin and her duel it out, prepared to follow the victor. When Anne finally got to Gregory, seated closest to her, he nodded in full support. He would be the only one to defend her.

  "Kevin does not speak for the entire group.” Gregory stood up, addressing the team. “I, for one, have no concerns with Miss James’ leadership, but more importantly, Philippe Lamont, our CEO, has no concerns.” He paused dramatically. “He confided today that he trusts Anne James completely."

 

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