“He can’t be as clean as he seems …”
That tidbit made me slow my steps so I could listen better. It was a man who had spoken, but I couldn’t place him in the crowd. He sounded young, smug, and barrel-chested.
“You think so?” a woman asked. She seemed like the pearl-clutching type.
“There’s no way a company like that could grow so quickly without some kind of outside help. Especially in communications. In a city like this, and in an industry like that, there are gatekeepers. Old guard folks who keep the upstarts from overstepping themselves. But after the way he swooped in and took that Matrix deal all for himself …”
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I knew they were talking about Aaron. I pretended to admire a nearby painting, my ears straining to hear their conversation. The seascape was not half as exciting as the dirt being dished behind me, but I feared that if I turned around to catch a glimpse of whoever was talking, the group would see my spying and disperse. So, I froze, and I listened.
“What do you think he’s doing?” someone else asked the group. Another woman—one with a disaffected alto voice that sounded like it had come right out of an old ‘40s movie. I pegged her for a social climber, someone who had learned her high society airs from watching them on TV. But that was of no concern to me, outside of what it might tell me about the people spreading nasty rumors about Aaron at a party.
“I think I know,” the man said.
“That’s right, Patrick, you work for him, don’t you?”
“I do,” the man, Patrick, affirmed smugly. Smugness sounded correct in his voice—like it was his dominant emotion. “And I’ve seen some things that are questionable.”
“What kind of things?”
I couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. I turned to see who was talking, but it was too late. The voices were already dispersing, the tight-knit group of gossipers melting away into the anonymous sea of people. I saw why. Aaron stood a few yards away, searching the room for me, dark eyes bright. As calmly as I could, I headed toward him.
“There you are,” he said as he handed me a glass of champagne. “I thought you might have tried to ditch me.”
“I need to tell you something.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow at my tone. “What is it?”
I took his arm and guided him casually, the way a date might, away from where the crowd was thickest. Then, when I found partial privacy by a deserted corner and a large potted plant that obscured our faces, I repeated the conversation I had overheard. I’m not sure what possessed me to tell him, but I felt he had the right to know.
“Did you get any names?” Aaron asked.
“Only one,” I replied, draining my flute of champagne. I might not be a huge fan of the whole gala scene, but I was not one to turn down expensive, imported booze. “Does the name Patrick ring any bells for you?”
“Oh, a couple,” Aaron muttered, and his face darkened. I had all the answers I needed, although he declined to elaborate on his relationship to the man. Whatever bad blood was between them, I didn’t want to have anything to do with it. Still, I couldn’t help my curiosity. It looked like Aaron Patterson had more skeletons in his closet, or at least more enemies lying in wait for him than I knew.
Something akin to curiosity flitted across Aaron’s face, and he cocked his head at me. It was as if he was seeing me with new eyes, not just as a foe or a potential lay, but as a valuable resource.
“You didn’t have to tell me any of that,” he said. “Why did you?”
“I may not like you,” I said. “But I thought you deserved to know.”
Aaron mulled over what I had told him as we joined the throng of people filing into the dining room. His hand lingered on the small of my back, warm and possessive. I could feel his touch through the thin material of my dress, and it made me feel more secure in this circus of a party.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
Aaron slid his arm around my waist and pulled me in close, so close a thrill shot through my pussy. Only I could hear his words. “I’m thinking this partnership will be very beneficial.”
7
Aaron
“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick to everyone, you wouldn’t have this problem.”
Audrey sat in my living room, feet propped up on my coffee table, eating from a container of Chinese takeout. On her lap was one of the magazines she had brought with her. Despite having only visited me in my loft a handful of times, she had begun to look at home there, with her patent leather flats lined up by the front door and her thin scarf tossed over the back of my couch. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She had taken it off and tucked it away, in a moment she believed had been unobserved. I found I liked seeing her there curled up, cozy, and at ease.
“Maybe if people did their jobs right, I wouldn’t have to be such a dick to them,” I retorted as I cracked an egg into the mixing bowl of instant muffin batter sitting on my counter. I didn’t cook for myself often, believing it to be a waste of my valuable time, but I had been craving the chocolaty sweetness of muffins-in-a-box. “Did you ever think about that?”
Audrey flipped me off, her mouth too full of shrimp lo mein to speak. An easy camaraderie had formed between us, and we exchanged jokes and well-meant jabs in the same way work colleagues did. Even the fact that I had invited her over to my apartment to break the monotony of meeting at coffee shops was a testament to this. I didn’t do a lot of entertaining.
We had spent the last few days going through business journals, news stories, and websites—anywhere that had written a story about my company or me. I wanted to know precisely where the rumors of shady goings on at Patterson were coming from and the scope of them—especially since I still couldn’t get those conflicting reports Hank and I had uncovered out of my head. Audrey had provided the solution, and we’d slogged through stacks of articles and anything else that seemed relevant.
“Is there anyone you can think of, off the top of your head, who could be the source of these rumors?” Audrey asked, daintily wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. Her noodle carton sat abandoned on the living room table next to a fizzing, half-drunk ginger soda as she rose to cross the room.
“It’s easier to list who it couldn’t be,” I said. “As you have stated on more than one occasion—just moments ago, in fact—I’m not the most well-liked person. Unless the reporters have decided to make up wild stories themselves about what goes on at my company, they’d probably talk to the people who work for me.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m getting at,” Audrey mused, leaning against the counter beside me. “Think of your employees, for starters. Which ones’ spring to mind?”
I took a moment to mull over her question, focusing on stirring the gooey muffin batter. There were a few I could name. Jillian or maybe even Seth, after the way I had spoken to them at the financial meeting. However, whoever had actually fudged the numbers had done so before that meeting. The motive just wasn’t strong enough and spreading rumors about shady financials would be putting themselves directly in the line of fire. Mercer, of course, entered my mind: smug and self-satisfied, and always looking for a chance to undermine me. I didn’t know if he had the wherewithal to plot something like this, but I wouldn’t put it past him. He had seemed out for blood when he had confronted me in my office about the Matrix account.
“I have a couple people on my sales team who aren’t too happy with me right now,” I said. “It could be one of them. You did say Patrick Mercer was part of that group you overheard.”
“Yeah, he was,” Audrey confirmed as she nudged me out of the way with her hip and took over stirring the batter.
“Hey!” I exclaimed in mock offense.
She gave me a smirk. “I wanted a turn.”
I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms and watching her. “Fair enough.”
A small smile played at her lips as she spooned dollops of batter into the greased baking pan. I wondered if she knew h
ow beautiful she looked: a teasing expression on her face, her hair pulled up into a messy bun, her hands busy at work with something simple and wholesome. I caught myself staring, thinking about her naked tits underneath that shirt, already envisioning what I would ... and I shook my head. Focus. This is a business meeting.
“But yeah. Patrick.”
“He seemed pretty positive about what he was saying.”
“That’s just Patrick. He likes to pretend he knows more than he does. About anything. Office gossip, international politics, pro golf.”
“What’s your issue with him?” Audrey asked, quirking an eyebrow. Her hazel eyes flickered over to me, intelligent and exacting. “I mean, I’ve heard you talk about people you don’t like, but your voice never gets as angry as it does when you mention this Patrick guy. And he seemed to really have it out for you.”
I sighed and moved to the couch, leaning back against the cushions. Some of the tightness I always held in my shoulders slipped away. I was comfortable around her, I realized, or at least more comfortable than I was around most people. Even around Devon, I had learned to be alert to protect my younger brother from his own ignorance. But with Audrey, it felt different. Easy.
“I worked hard for everything I have,” I explained. “My education, my money, my company, this loft … I earned it all by working my ass off. Mercer is the type of guy who has had everything handed to him on a silver platter. His family is rich, he went to private schools and expensive colleges. Whatever he wanted, he got. Everyone else in his life may be quick to kiss his ass, but I’m sure as hell not going to.”
Audrey frowned. She was still taking me in as though examining me piece by piece. “So, you’re mad because he had more opportunities than you?”
“No, I’m mad because he doesn’t appreciate them,” I corrected. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s great with the clients, and he does know his stuff … but he also acts like the work he does is beneath him, like he should be the CEO when he wouldn’t last a fucking day in my shoes. He thinks all I do is sit in my office and order people around.”
“I mean, that’s a big part of what you do,” Audrey teased.
She had finished smoothing the batter in the pan, and now, she slid it into the preheated oven and closed the door with a clang. When she turned back to me and strolled over to the couch, she was licking brown batter off her fingers. She looked like a happy child or a cat.
I gave her a rueful smile. “Who’s being an ass now?”
Audrey chuckled, but it trailed off into a small sigh. Her eyes clouded over with concern as she settled down next to me. She scanned the magazines laid out in front of us on the table. I doubted we would get much further on our research tonight, but I could tell she planned to continue worrying about it.
“If he’s as bad as you say he is, he very well could be trying to get back at you.”
I hadn’t told her about the strange revenue dips I had found, or how I suspected someone might be stealing from the company. Not yet, anyway. As far as she knew, I just wanted to preserve my and my company’s reputation from malicious rumors. I was almost ready to let her know about the true range of my problems, but I hesitated to appear that vulnerable. If there was a way for me to fix this by myself, I would rather go that route.
“Spite can go a long way,” she continued. “Has anything big happened recently that could have pushed him over the edge?”
I didn’t answer out loud, but I considered her question. Mercer had obviously been angry about the Matrix account and had complained to numerous people, but I still didn’t see how he could translate that to me mishandling my company. Even if he had started the rumors, it didn’t explain the changed numbers. Could he have been planning this for a while, now?
I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting off an approaching headache. “I feel like we’re talking in circles. We’ve gone over this already.”
Audrey gave a luxurious stretch. The way her body moved drew my focus, and I felt the sudden urge to run my hands along her curves.
“Yeah,” she said. “I need a break from reading.”
“Do you want some wine?” I asked as I lurched to my feet, away from temptation. We had already established boundaries, and I knew I was dangerously close to chucking my own rule out the window.
“Please,” Audrey answered as she began to clean up our dinner, oblivious to my abrupt departure. “That would be great.”
I walked into the kitchen and had a thought that made me pause. The thing I had with Audrey was supposed to be casual, a way to spite the tabloids who said I couldn’t hold on to a girlfriend and to ensure I had a date for any functions that required one. But it seemed that ever since she’d overheard what she had at that party, she was determined to get to the truth. Just as determined as I was.
When I went back into the living room, she had finished clearing away the food and sat tucked in the corner of the couch. She wasn’t doing anything remarkable, only scrolling through something on her phone, but it reminded me, yet again, how effortlessly beautiful she was. It seemed so easy for her to relax and just be herself.
She gave me a grateful smile as I handed her a glass of wine. The heady scent of warming chocolate was slowly filling the apartment.
“So, what’s the next event you need me to accompany you to?” she asked. “We never really talked specifics.”
“There’s a company Christmas party, but that’s not for a few weeks. I have a couple dinner meetings I want you to attend. Nothing too fancy, but it would be nice to bring someone who can talk shop.”
Audrey nodded as she took a sip of wine. “That works for me. Can I ask you something, though?”
“I doubt I could stop you.”
She stuck her tongue out at me, and I found the gesture impossibly endearing. “Ass,” she said. “What do you plan to do once you figure all this stuff out? Are you going to fire people just because they think you’re doing bad things? That seems extreme—even for you.”
“It’s not just about the rumors,” I said. “I’ve lived with rumors my whole life. My company is everything to me, and people can think all the bad things they want about my personal life, but I don’t want my company’s reputation to suffer because some asshole has decided to go mouthing off.”
“It’s really that important to you,” Audrey stated.
“Of course.”
She studied me as she took another sip of wine. “There’s more to life than work, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “You can save your breath; I’ve heard it all before.”
“No, hear me out,” Audrey insisted, placing her glass on the table. She shifted a little closer, gracing me with a bit of her heat and the distant scent of her floral perfume. “I’ve never stayed at a job longer than a few months. I learn fast, and then I like to move on, find new challenges. As long as the work keeps teaching you something, I say go for it. Stick it out. But, eventually, you’re going to burn out. And I hate the thought of you not having anything else to draw your passion.”
She looked so earnest; I couldn’t help myself. I placed my wine glass next to hers, and then, before I could stop myself, I took her face in my hands and drew her into a firm kiss. Her lips were just as soft as I’d imagined them to be, and, as she gasped in surprise, I slipped my tongue in to taste her.
She tasted of wine and chocolate, and I quickly found myself growing drunk on her flavor, lapping at her tongue with slow strokes of my own.
A second later, she jerked away, breaking all contact and staring at me with wide eyes.
I realized I had made a grave mistake. “Audrey …”
“It’s getting late,” she said, her voice an octave higher than normal. “I should go! Long day tomorrow and all.”
“Wait, don’t.” I tried reaching for her as she got to her feet.
She danced out of my grasp, and my hand lingered in midair. “I really need to go. Thanks for dinner,” she said. “I hope that stuff helps. Let me know if you fi
nd anything useful.”
I wasn’t going to let her get away that easily. “Audrey, it was just a kiss,” I said as I followed her to the door. “You don’t need to rush off.”
“I really do.” She grabbed her coat from the hook by the door, yanking it on. “Bye.”
She was out the door before I could even blink.
I stood like an idiot in the middle of my living room, confused and angry. Not with her, but with myself. I was still staring at the door, when the scent of burning dough filled my nose. Just perfect.
Before I could get to the kitchen to pull the muffins out of the oven, my phone began to ring, and I hurried to answer it, part of me hoping it was Audrey. “Hello?”
“Is this Aaron Patterson?” an unfamiliar male voice asked.
I frowned. “Yes, who is this?”
“Detective Mosedale with the NYPD. We need to talk.”
8
Audrey
Nothing could have prepared me for Aaron’s kiss.
One minute, we were sitting together and enjoying a glass of wine, and the next, he had cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t that I hadn’t wanted him to kiss me. I would have been lying if I’d said I hadn’t thought of it many times before. But it had been a line we had drawn, a line we’d agreed not to cross.
In one fluid movement, he had practically leaped across it.
The kiss had been spur of the moment, born from the intimacy of sharing such a private and personal moment. I’d known he would brush it off after, that it wouldn’t mean anything to him. But it meant a hell of a lot to me, and if I hadn’t bolted when I did, I wasn’t sure what I would have done.
That wasn’t true. I would have gone for it just as I had almost done when we first met in the bar.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 213