Ropes of Lies

by Kathy Noumi

  The no-fraternization rule hadn’t occurred to me until she’d said it. She had a point. We couldn’t carry on this way. But there were so many unanswered questions. I wasn’t about to let her walk away without explaining.

  “Eden, how does that hold up? You haven’t told me how you acquired the money for the Kaleidoscope Building. If you claim there are no guarantees then how were you planning on paying the bid in cash? And while we’re at it, how did it even become your dream project.?”

  She formed a tight-lipped smile, then glanced down at her watch. When her eyes met mine, my chest tightened.

  “I don’t think your father would like to be kept waiting.”

  “Fuck if I care what he likes and doesn’t like.” She shot me a blazing glare. When she headed for the door, I marched after her, pressing my hand against the oak. “Wait.”

  “For?”

  “If you don’t want to explain, I understand. But tell me I can call you later, at least.”

  The dryness in my mouth increased to one thousand percent as Eden nibbled the tip of her finger and kept me in suspense. Say something! I’d lost my mind. She wanted me to squirm. Damn her intoxicating perfume, damn the way her dress hugged her perfect petite curves, and damn those god-forsaken stockings.

  Eden gripped her bag’s shoulder strap, watching me. “Okay.”

  Then she left. Her slender hourglass figure drifted gracefully down the hall until it disappeared altogether. I exhaled every last smidgen of air from my lungs. When had I held my breath? Closing my eyes for a moment, I imagined taking Eden’s hand in mine and escaping Chicago the way we used to. Keep dreaming, bucko.

  What would this merger do to us? She’d been reluctant before, but now . . . I’d need a miracle to get her back.

  Donna cleared her throat. “Mr. Winthrop, your father is still waiting.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered. “Let me grab my tablet. I’m coming.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eden

  It was officially the first day of hell.

  Well, my own personal version of it. Three weeks went by without a peep from Jameson. When he’d asked if he could call me, I’d stupidly assumed it meant soon. He’d made such big deal of our date and what happened at the hotel that I figured we’d turned a corner, even if the merger threatened to derail us off a cliff. But it was the same old shit with him. He only wanted what he couldn’t have.

  The ink had barely dried on the merger documents when Pryce & Leigh packed up and moved into the new building. Now I worked for WPL International Developers; the new company name did have a nice ring to it.

  I dressed for my first day, anxiety gnawing at me like a lion starved for fresh steak. How on earth could I survive seeing Jameson daily? We’d had sex in his office, and now I would have to walk by the sight of that secret shame multiple times a day. Problematic much? Still, the little voice in my head told me to suck it up, grow a pair, and prove my worth.

  I hooked the latch of my pearl necklace. Flattening the three strands around my neck, I watched myself in the mirror. The woman staring back at me had changed over the past few weeks. Jameson’s presence had not only sent her body into overdrive, the shield she’d created to protect herself from him had been dented, scratched, nearly pierced through. It couldn’t withstand much more.

  Did I want it to? My stomach churned. Christ. Maybe deep down I’d waited all these years for him to understand I needed to make a name for myself. Be my own person without being tied to a man. But he’d still never apologized for how he handled things after New York. Could I let go of the fact that he’d vindictively poached my clients? I pressed my fingers between my brows, hoping to rub away the worried creases.

  My phone pinged. Khloe.

  Good luck today! Not that u need it!

  I smiled at the screen. She was the best friend a girl could ever ask for, so I quickly typed a message back.

  Thank you! You’re the best ;-*

  First-day-of-school jitters washed over me. Then I remembered what my mother told me the day I left Brooklyn to go live in the NYU dorms: “Men will always try and define you, but today and every day forward, you won’t let them. You got it? Not your father, not a boy, no one. And the sum of all your actions will equal the life you want. Go kick ass and be the incredible girl I know you are.”

  They were words I needed to hear. It didn’t matter that my dad had left us for another family or that I’d be in a dorm alone, she believed in me. It was enough. Raising me by herself made us both stronger. Four years at NYU, and not once did she call and tell me to come home. I drew from her strength, and this day would be no different. My mother could never be categorized into the weak column. And, dammit, neither would I.

  When I looked in the mirror again, I thrust my shoulders back and lifted my chin. The woman who gazed back at me through stormy eyes stood determined, professional, and ready to face anything.

  Here goes nothin’.

  WSquared’s signature “W” glared at me from the building’s revolving door. A chill ran up my spine—they hadn’t changed the building name yet. I inhaled deeply before stepping into the whirling doors. Inside the sleek, modern lobby, men and women in suits milled about. They chatted over coffee, waited for elevators, and scanned their badges.

  As I slid my card through the scanner and headed for the elevator bank, Mr. Pryce slinked up next to me. “Good morning, Ms. Black. Are you ready?”

  I smiled. “Yes. More than ready.”

  The elevator doors dinged, opening wide for all to enter. He extended his arm, and I entered before him. After a few others followed suit, Mr. Pryce positioned himself nearest to me before the doors closed.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I hoped we could have a quick chat in the new office. I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  The elevator pinged when we reached our new floor. “Let me go put my—”

  “No need, it won’t take long.”

  “All right, then, lead the way, Mr. Pryce.”

  I followed him into the reception area. As we strode down the hall, I noted a few faces I recognized. We gave our typical good mornings, but otherwise, Mr. Pryce walked in silence. His reserve seemed slightly odd. A small sting of uncertainty crawled into my head, attaching like a leech.

  He veered toward a row of elaborate offices. I spotted his assistant’s empty chair, two desks away, and wondered where she could be. Mr. Pryce ushered me into his office, closing the door behind us. “Have a seat, Eden.”

  I will not get fired on day one. Like hell if I’d let him sack me before I’d gotten my feet wet.

  His new office was vastly different from the old Pryce & Leigh one. It had floor-to-ceiling windows behind the desk and built-in bookshelves that took up the entire left wall. The only comfort remained the familiar furniture from his old office. His decor didn’t seem to fit in the new space.

  He rounded the desk and took his seat promptly behind it. “There are going to be some changes.”

  “Changes?”

  “You’re an asset to me.” He shifted in his chair, crossing his arms in front of him. “I don’t care what Winthrop thinks.”

  “Did they not want to keep me?” My voice cracked on the word “keep.”

  “It’s not important. But I wanted to tell you the new teams have been formed, and you’ll be collaborating with Jameson Winthrop on all our top accounts,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  Holy shit on a stick lit with hellfire!

  “I . . .” I was at a loss for words. Jameson assured me we’d work on separate teams. He insisted he could convince his father of it. What in the world happened? I thought passing him in the halls would be bad enough, but to work with him on every account?

  “Eden, this is a good thing. Jameson Winthrop is incredibly smart and hardworking, and the both of you had the best client lists of either company. The partners all felt it would be
nefit you to work together.”

  Cool air brushed against my tongue, so I knew my mouth had to be hanging open. “Is he my new boss or am I his?”

  Mr. Pryce drew in a deep breath. “For now, William seem to think Jameson’s your boss, but to me you’re both equals.” He squinted his eyes a bit. “Eden . . . don’t let your guard down.”

  A shiver of panic crawled its way up my spine, vertebra by vertebra, until it reached the top of my neck. I’d worked harder and pushed past more bullshit in my career than all of these executives combined—this was not happening! If Jameson thought he could swoop in and be my bossafter he promised it wouldn’t happen, well, he had another thing coming.

  I shifted in my seat, tightening my death grip around the strap of my bag. “I won’t.”

  “All right, good. Let me know if you need anything. My door is always open.”

  “Will do. Thank you, Mr. Pryce.” I left him to his work. I needed to get to my new office, pronto. A million and one questions ran amuck in my head. One in particular—how the hell were Jameson and I supposed to survive working so closely?

  While I quickly gunned it for my office, the halls buzzed with a hum of worker bees. Chatter filled the corridors as our staff and theirs attempted civil conversation.

  Someone gripped my arm when I strolled past a huddle, and my head whipped around quicker than a lizard’s tongue. My heart skipped a beat when I locked eyes with Jameson.

  He leaned in slightly; his breath warmed my ear. “Morning, Miss Black.”

  I tugged my arm out of his grip. “Morning.”

  “Are you trying to kill me with those?” he whispered, aiming his scrutiny at my legs.

  In an effort to act unflustered, I kept my voice low and steady. “Contrary to what you might think, the world doesn’t revolve around you. I wore these because I like them.”

  He grinned from cheek to cheek. “You can pretend, but we both know the truth.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I bit back, “The truth is that you lack any sense of boundaries.”

  He rubbed his chest as if I had wounded him. To my surprise, when we reached my office, he stepped in behind me. “Nice office.”

  “Do you know what the word ‘boundary’ means?” I questioned.

  Jameson closed the door. He furrowed his brow when he asked, “What’s going on?”

  Was he being sincere? But how could he be when he’d lied to me about the new structure? He had been assigned to be my flipping boss, for Christ’s sake! Signed. Sealed. Delivered.

  “Do you think this is a fucking joke, Winthrop?”

  He chuckled. “Not at all.”

  Miffed by his blasé reply, I glanced around quickly at all the unpacked cargo, silently tallying the number of boxes in my head. He needed to get the hell out.

  I stared him down. “I have work to do. Please leave.”

  “Eden . . . talk to me.”

  Gazing out the windows, I pressed a palm to my ribs, sucking in a full breath. Get a grip. “I have to unpack.”

  Jameson’s footsteps inched closer. He hovered behind me, standing so close to my back that our bodies nearly touched. He placed his hands at my waist. “I can have someone take care of this for you if it will help.”

  God, why did he have to be nice right at this moment? I clenched my jaw. The day hadn’t begun, and it was already more than I could handle. “No. I’m fine.”

  He twisted me to face him. Straining my neck back, I glared at him. His lips threatened to break my resolve. I remained mad at him, furious even; damn him and his beautiful face!

  He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “Mr. Pryce informed me we’ll be working on every single account together.”

  He froze. The wrath in his eyes could have turned a beach into a frozen tundra with one glance. “When did he tell you this?”

  “Right before I came in here.”

  Jameson adjusted the knot on his tie. “Two can play at this game.”

  I let out an exasperated huff. “What are you talking about?”

  “My father.”

  Why in the world do men always assume we can understand their two-word answers? I shrugged. “What about him?”

  He clamped his fists into tight balls at his sides. “It’s his doing. I spoke with him about you having your own team, and he agreed. He’s fucking with me through you.”

  When the words left his lips, my heart thawed a bit—this was a side of Jameson I’d rarely seen before. He epitomized the brooding tough guy who did and took what he pleased. His father had always been a prick from what he’d divulged, but if he’d gone so far as to screw with Jameson through me, then the man didn’t have a heart.

  “Eden . . .”

  I shook my head, hopefully swallowing that tiny ball of guilt for good. “Is he so unkind to you? I mean, you’re his son—doesn’t it count for something?”

  Jameson lifted my chin with his bent knuckle. “It doesn’t, but don’t worry about him. He isn’t your problem.”

  The anger on his handsome face wasn’t aimed at me, for once, and I wanted to kiss him, hug him, make him feel less alone. The bastard he called father had done more damage to him than I could’ve ever imagined. How did I miss it? I should have guessed as much, but this . . . it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  A cruel man could never be loyal, I guess not even to his family. I could see why Jameson mistrusted everyone, me included. Not able to help myself, I wrapped my arms around his neck as far as I could reach, pulling him close. He stayed silent, covering me with his big arms. We stood there for a few minutes, immobile, neither of us daring to pull away. He inhaled, nuzzling my hair.

  A light tap on the door broke through our daze.

  “Who is it?”

  Vince’s burly voice penetrated the thick wood door. “Sorry I arrived late. May I have a word with you?”

  Jameson dropped his hands from around my back. He moved to the other side of my desk and sat in one of the randomly placed chairs.

  “Come in,” I said, frantically smoothing my skirt.

  When Vince saw Jameson, his face turned white. “Oh! Sorry, Ms. Black. I didn’t realize Mr. Winthrop was here.”

  “Don’t worry, Vince. What did you need to speak to me about?”

  “Wanted to make sure all your boxes arrived,” he said, eyeing the ones strewn all around the room.

  I grinned at him. “Thank you for checking, but I haven’t opened anything yet. I’ll let you know if something is missing.”

  “Can I get you coffee?” he asked without looking at Jameson. Weird.

  Jameson shook his head at me. I mimicked the motion. “No thanks. We’re fine.”

  Vince toyed with his collar while he left my office, closing the door behind him. What’s going on with him?

  “Let me help you unpack.” Without awaiting my reply, he strode over to a random box, and began opening it.

  “I don’t—”

  “I’m helping.”

  “Like hell you are. I can’t have everyone at the office think my new boss is giving me special treatment.”

  Jameson tore open the box marked Files A-F and pulled out the packing bubbles. “Do you want to displease your boss on your first day?” he asked, winking at me.

  I shot him a did-you-just glare. “Don’t joke like that.”

  He cleared his throat. “I can assure you I wasn’t making a joke.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know something, you’ve lost your mind.”

  Jameson chuckled. “That’s about right most of the time, especially around you, but I’m still helping.” He rummaged through the box he’d opened and hauled out a giant stack of manila folders.

  “Stubborn as ever.”

  He placed the manila folders on my desk. “How do you like your new office?”

  I walked over to another stack of boxes, lifting the top one onto one of the chairs and slicing the tape open with the scissors. “I can’t say it�
�s bad with a view like that, now can I?”

  “Better than mine.”

  “Liar.” I arched my brow at him.

  “What else did Pryce tell you?” he questioned. It wasn’t lost on me that he ignored my snarky remark.

  “The new partners decided you’re the boss of our division and team leader of the six-person crew they’ve put together. Therefore, you’re the head honcho.”

  Jameson’s brow furrowed further. “Did Pryce say anything about my father?”

  I glanced up from the box I currently unpacked. “No.”

  In my attempt to seem at ease, all I could manage were one-word answers. In reality, I was torn between wishing I could tell Jameson to stuff it and craving his touch. I watched as his big hands clung to the edges of the cardboard, shamelessly recalling how it felt when his fingertips moved beneath my clothes. He gripped the box the same way he clung to my waist, and it made me forget my common sense. I drifted back to the first night in his office. The way he kissed me, hard and without regret, like he’d been waiting to taste my lips for a million years.

  It was only the first hour of my day and yet I couldn’t keep my damn insanity at bay. How would I be able to work with him all day, every day?

  I snapped myself back into the moment. Jameson was looking at me with lifted brows. “Well?”

  He continued to bat his lashes at me, so I finally cleared my throat. “Uh—well what?”

  He grinned. “Never mind.”

  “Can I be honest?”

  “Always.”

  “I’m livid. Before all this, I was set to have your job and title in a matter of weeks, but now I’m supposed to work under you. It’s bullshit. I can’t compete with the owner’s son.”

  “It’s not ideal for me either, Eden.”

  “You’re still the boss.”