“Oh yes,” said the lady, pursing her lips and gazing at her monitor. “Looks like you’re in the Rose Room. Up one level and to your left.”
I nodded my thanks and made my way up the stairs. Chris evidently had something to prove to his clients because the meeting was in the Four Seasons and the surroundings were unbelievably luxurious. The grand staircase was a double spiral which flowed gracefully from the first floor landing to the second, with ruby red carpet decorated with gold scrolls. It sounds gaudy and tacky but was actually tasteful and elegant.
But I sighed. I was a nobody and no one noticed me making my way up the stairs. Which was for the better, I guess. All I wanted to do was to take notes and then make a getaway, my obligation done. I’d signed up for ten days of hedonism with the big man and that was over now, I’d done my part. This note-taking business was an extra that had been tacked-on by my dad, of all people.
So I stopped before the big double doors, knocking softly. When no one answered, I let myself in, a freezing cold blast of A/C hitting me in the face. God, why didn’t they turn up the temperature in this place? My summer suit was no match for the arctic blast and I could feel my nipples hardening, goose bumps coming up on my thighs, make me shiver involuntarily.
But that’s when I saw him. Chris was alone in the room, his feet up on a conference table, turned towards the door as if waiting for me.
“Hey,” he said casually, getting up, that big form unfolding. “How are you?”
I looked around, puzzled. Nope, not a soul in sight.
“Good,” I replied slowly, “But where is everyone? I know I’m early,” I said, glancing quickly at my watch again. “But it’s nine fifteen and I thought you said the meeting was at half past.”
“It is at nine thirty,” the big man drawled casually, sitting down again, “but my counterpart canceled five minutes ago.”
I stopped in my tracks.
“Canceled, really?” I said, disbelieving. “That’s rude, especially with such last minute notice.”
“It is rude,” growled Chris, nodding, “so I’ll be tearing him a new one the next time I see him, but in the meantime, let’s discuss business.”
I stopped for a moment, hands on my hips, mouth firm.
“I’m not sure what you think is going on,” I said tightly, “but my obligation to you is done.”
The blue gaze gleamed for a moment, and the big man paused, looking me over, his gaze slipping and sliding over my curvy form. To my horror, my body began to respond, my nipples growing perky, my insides hot and moist.
And Chris grinned at me like he knew exactly what was happening.
“You look beautiful, Lindy,” he said in a growl, blue eyes intense. “I’ve missed you.”
I shook my head. No way was this guy softening me up. After everything that had happened? No way, this was all a trap, suddenly I was sure there had been no meeting scheduled at nine thirty, there was no business in Albany, everything had been made up. But for what? I didn’t get it.
“Listen,” I said huffily, my hands on my hips. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you better come clean with me. What are you thinking, dragging my parents into this? Giving my dad a promotion? A raise? You were set on firing him, remember?”
And the big man leaned back in his chair, coolly confident as always, playing with his pen.
“I had second thoughts,” he said casually. “I reconsidered my personnel issues and decided Jim was critical to my staff.”
I stared at him, disbelieving.
“Don’t give me that,” I snorted. “Jim stole from you, don’t you remember? Embezzled money from United Electric, did all this hocus pocus mumbo jumbo accounting stuff hoping you weren’t going to catch on, it was just his bad luck that you’re good with numbers. So what happened? Why didn’t you fire him? Stealing is grounds for immediate termination, no one would blame you if you did.”
The big man quirked an eyebrow then.
“So little sympathy for your own father, Lindy?” he murmured, his voice smooth. “That’s so un-daughter like of you.”
I shook my head, exasperated.
“It’s un-daughter like, I know, but this whole thing is un-employer like,” I retorted. “Jim stole from you, so what’s going on? None of this makes sense!”
The alpha male leaned back even further in his chair.
“Well since we’re on the topic of men and their daughters, maybe I wanted something from the daughter,” he drawled.
That got to me.
“Oh no you don’t,” I warned, shaking my head. “Don’t even start, don’t even go there. I’ve paid my debt to you, we had an agreement and I held up my end. You can’t just go and change the rules.”
But the big man shook his head again, amused.
“Says who?” he asked.
I was stunned, completely nonplussed.
“What do you mean, ‘says who’?” I asked, dumbfounded. “That’s just how the world works! You strike a deal and you stick to it, you don’t change the rules halfway through.”
But the big man laughed then, a growl deep in his throat.
“Oh baby girl, you have so much to learn,” he chuckled. “You did so well in the game that I want more now,” he added suggestively. “What do you say to that?”
I shook my head furiously.
“No way, there’s no more,” I said vehemently. “There’s no more where that came from.”
And a spark lit in Chris’s eyes then. A challenge had come his way and the big man never passed up challenges.
“Is that so?” his deep voice rumbled. “Do you really think so?” he added softly, silkily.
Suddenly I had the distinct feeling of real danger. Although Mr. Jones was lounging in his chair, his big body relaxed, he reminded me of a predator lying in wait, still among the bushes, eyes sharp. It was like he was waiting for me to get lazy, step into the middle of the crosshairs before pouncing.
So I backtracked then.
“Listen,” I said quickly. “I can’t get caught up in all that again, okay? I can’t, I have a lot on the line, school, family, you know,” I added helplessly.
But Mr. Jones wouldn’t give me any quarter.
“You don’t like school, Lindy, you told me that already. The other kids, your classes, your professors, it’s not what you’re looking for.”
I squirmed then. It was true, I’d said that and I still believed it but I was grasping at straws here, throwing anything in the path to get him off my scent.
“Well, I’ve changed, I like it more,” I improvised. “Things are a lot better now, I’m taking some good classes, I’ve met a few great girls and some really interesting guys …”
And here Chris cut me off.
“Men?” he ground out. “Who?”
And I was sorely tempted to make something up, to pretend I had a boyfriend, that suddenly I’d been swept off my feet. But I couldn’t do it. These games had my head spinning and I couldn’t do it anymore, didn’t want to anymore.
“Mr. Jones,” I said slowly, “I’m gonna start again, and I’m not going to bullshit you. I’m not going to pretend that I’m Miss Popular with the football player boyfriend, a hundred men trying to date me. Because I’m just plain old Lindy, and I always have been. Why are you here?” I implored. “Why are you playing with my family, toying with us, with me?”
And now my brown eyes met his clearly, with honesty and sincerity shining through.
“Please,” I tried again. “Please tell me what’s going on, I’m so lost.”
And the big man stared at me hard for a moment before shaking his head.
“Lindy,” he said slowly, “You’re a smart girl but so stupid sometimes.”
I grabbed my stuff, ready to flee. He’d just called me stupid? How could he? My cheeks flamed and I whirled on my heel, my bag in my hands when a big fist clamped on my wrist.
“No baby,” he rumbled gently. “You’re not stupid, I’m sorry, that’s not the rig
ht word. ‘Innocent’ is a better descriptor. You’re innocent and I keep forgetting because you’re a girl with a woman’s body, a girl who knows so much, but so little as well.”
And I turned to go again. What was it with these backhand compliments, these double-edged comments? He could keep them to himself, I was done.
But Chris wouldn’t let go of my arm and instead, pulled me to sit in a chair across from him.
“All I’m saying Lindy,” he continued quietly, “is that I’ve fallen in love with you and want to be a part of your life.”
Now I sat back, stunned, my eyes wide. I was literally speechless, no words came to mind.
“I see I took you by surprise,” said the big man wryly. “Like I said, innocent. You really had no idea, baby girl? No idea after I jumped through all these hoops to see you?”
I closed my eyes, shaking my head silently. Was I really here, in the Four Seasons, alone with Mr. Jones? Had he really just declared love for me?
But when I opened my eyes, the big man was still there, looking at me amused, but with deep emotion in his eyes.
“It’s true, baby,” he rumbled, taking my small hand in his. “Christopher Jones, confirmed forty-five year-old bachelor, is head over heels for Lindy Martin, daughter of my employee.”
And I jumped up then, my heart pumping.
“Chris,” I said quickly, “If this is another farce, another way to get back at my dad, make him pay for his misdeeds …”
But this time, the big man’s hand was firm and he yanked me to sit back down.
“This has nothing to do with Jim,” he growled, dark streaks appearing across his cheekbones, “and everything to do with us.”
I sat, unspeaking again. “Us”? There was an “us”?
And the alpha male nodded.
“There’s absolutely an ‘us,’” he affirmed, voice rough. “There was an “us” the minute you stepped into my home, looking like an innocent doe, unsure, hesitant, not knowing what was next. I felt myself falling, falling that entire week, it was like doing a nose-dive with no parachute, and suddenly there was an ‘us,’” he said roughly. “I had to have you. I have to have you even now, Lindy, come with me. Leave college, I can give you what you want, what you need, you can travel, go to culinary school, do whatever it is that makes you happy.”
And my heart beat so quickly that I thought it might explode in my chest, but something about this didn’t make sense, didn’t jive.
“Mr. Jones,” I said slowly, “I don’t get it. We had an arrangement, you’re the one who made that clear. My dad could keep his job for a little longer, so long as I spent ten days with you …” and here I choked. But it was better not to hold back, I wanted to be perfectly clear. “So long as I spent ten days with you having sex,” I said with finality, stuttering a bit despite my best efforts.
At least he didn’t deny it.
“That’s true,” he said smoothly. “But things changed along the way. I saw you, I talked with you, I felt like we were two people who really got along despite our age difference, despite the unusual circumstances. Didn’t you feel that as well?” he asked, that voice like smooth brandy.
And I paused for a moment. Of course I’d felt it, but I was sure it was one-sided, that it was the imagination of a teenage girl.
“Yes,” I said slowly, “but what happened?” I asked. “Why the turnabout?”
And Mr. Jones paused for a moment.
“Honey, I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he drawled. “I’ve always been interested in you, and now I’m talking about making it legitimate, making it into something permanent.”
My pulse jumped at the words “legitimate” and “permanent,” but I couldn’t quite get over the way our relationship had begun, how it’d been a business transaction more than anything, literally my dad’s job in exchange for physical release, the opportunity to enjoy my young, untouched body.
“I guess I just feel like I’m being bought,” I said slowly, carefully.
The big man jolted at the word “bought,” but I nodded my head, more sure of myself. “I feel like you buy everything, Chris. The meeting with the governor, wining and dining powerful friends, contracts for your company. Even my parents’ allegiance,” I added slowly. “They’re in debt to you now with that helicopter ride, even more so than before.”
And at least the big man had the grace to flush, acknowledging my words, nodding imperceptibly. So I continued, rueful.
“I’d give anything not to feel this way,” I said, my voice soft. “But you’re a man who’s able to buy anything you want, and right now, that’s me,” I added. “You bought me with my dad’s job, the promotion, my family’s financial security, not to mention the clothes, the jewels, the offer to send me to culinary school, travel the world with you,” I said with a sad smile. “But one thing you’ll learn is that I can’t be bought,” I said simply. “My heart’s not for sale.”
And the big man gazed at me thoughtfully again, leaning back in his chair.
“Well, what do you want then, Lindy?” he asked reasonably. “Do you want me to fire your dad? Take back the clothes and jewels? Take back the helicopter ride, is that what you want?”
And I sighed because of course those were ridiculous suggestions.
“Of course not,” I sighed, shaking my head. “I just mean … I don’t know, you know? We didn’t exactly meet under ‘normal’ circumstances so now it feels strange to think that you’re interested in me.”
The big man leaned forward then, taking my hand in his, his blue eyes piercing, penetrating.
“Oh believe it,” he said silkily. “It’s real little girl, it’s for fucking real. But I see what you mean with the ‘buying,’” he conceded, “I am a man of great wealth and I’m used to greasing the wheels with money,” he said. “It’s the way the world works, baby, this is nothing new.”
And here I set down my foot.
“But not with me,” I replied softly. “You can’t buy my love. Like I said before, it’s not for sale.”
Chris threw up his hands in exasperation again.
“But Lindy, I can’t re-write history, I can’t re-write the circumstances of how we met. What do you want me to do now? Demote Jim? Take away the promotion? Say, no, I made a mistake, I’m letting you go? This is the real world, little girl, I had something of value, you had something of value, and we exchanged to our mutual satisfaction, so what’s wrong? How do you want me to make this right?”
And I wasn’t sure, to be honest. All I knew was that I didn’t want to feel this way, would do anything to throw myself into his arms, forget our past. But the mercenary aspect of our history made me shudder, made my skin crawl, and I couldn’t get over it so fast.
“I’m so sorry, Chris,” I said slowly, getting up again. “I’m not sure how to make it right, but I know this is wrong.”
And this time, when I turned to go, the big man didn’t stop me. Why, oh why, did my heart cry out then? I loved him too, with every fiber of my being. But the way we met was insurmountable and I couldn’t forget it, not now.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lindy
“Hi Mom,” I said dully into the phone. “How are you?”
“Lindy!” said my mom happily. “Good, how’s school treating you?”
To be honest, terrible. I was barely dragging myself to class, barely talking to anyone, barely eating any meals even. Ever since my meeting with Chris my world had gone grey, I lived in a world of shadows and distant sounds, my hearing muffled, my senses dulled.
But Brenda didn’t need to know that, so I slipped a little white lie in there.
“Okay,” I said, trying to sound cheery. “Things are okay.” But my voice cracked at the end and that was a dead giveaway because my mom has been my mom for nineteen years and she could tell something was off.
“Honey,” she began slowly. “Is everything alright? I got something in the mail, and it was addressed to you from the school, and I know I was
n’t supposed to open it, but I did …” her voice trailed off.
That jolted me awake.
“What is it?” I asked sharply. Oh shit, was it my tuition bill? Something about my grades?
And my worst nightmare came true because my mom’s wavery voice came back on the line.
“Baby,” she said, “the registrar sent a letter saying that you’re getting D’s in two of your classes. Is that true?” she asked. “Are you having trouble academically?”
And I was silent for a moment. I’ve always struggled in college, it’s not the same as high school and things don’t come easy. I couldn’t quite seem to get the hang of my classes, no matter what I did, no matter how much studying I put in. And of course, I couldn’t focus since my conversation with Chris, so it was a miracle I was getting D’s, and not F’s.
I thought about covering it up, making up something about being sick, but my life was such a travesty that I couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stand going deeper into the web.
“Ma,” I choked, my voice thick. “I don’t think I belong here.”
“Oh no baby!” came my mom’s cry. “Of course you do, you worked so hard to get into college, why wouldn’t you belong there?”
And suddenly, hot tears began rolling down my cheeks.
“Mom, it’s not that. I just- I just don’t think college is right for me,” I sobbed into the phone. “It’s something you and Dad wanted, I know you’re proud of me, but I don’t think this is right for me.”
I could almost hear my mom shaking her head frantically.
“That’s not true baby girl,” she pleaded. “Your dad and I only want what you want, what makes you happy. We always thought school was what you wanted to. Isn’t that true, Lindy? Isn’t that true?”
And it broke my heart because I couldn’t say yes. I couldn’t lie anymore and pretend that getting a degree was my heart’s desire.
But my mom did a sudden turnabout. Perhaps it was because she’d sensed it all along, realized that I never really wanted to go down this path, or maybe it was because I was her baby girl, and she couldn’t stand to see me like this. So her voice softened, becoming soothing.
Pregnant By My Boss: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance Compilation Page 98