by Kelli Walker
Did my boss just demand I go on a date with him?
I ignored the email and sent one off to my mother. I wanted her to know I was safe. I also wanted to know how she was doing. If her back was any better from when I last saw her. I hated having to leave her behind to fend for herself, but I knew Paige would check in on her. Make sure she hadn’t fallen and that she didn’t need anything from the store. I didn’t have an international plan on my phone, so I couldn’t pick it up and call her. I leaned against the cushioned back of the desk chair in my hotel suite and hovered the cursor over Kenneth’s email.
I clicked it open and read through the short message again, digesting it as much as I could.
Who in the world did he think he was? Demanding something of me like that. I wasn’t his pleasure toy. He couldn't snap his fingers and demand I be in something pretty so he could flaunt me at his side. I was his secretary, for crying out loud.
I was also a secretary who had just been pressed against his penthouse hotel suite window.
But would he have asked me for something like this if we hadn’t just slept together? Was this somehow his way of telling me he wanted to see more of me? And if it was, then how did I feel about that. Did I want something like that with Kenneth? I mean, I hardly knew the man. My mother was wary of him, that much was for sure.
Was that something I wanted? Going on a date with my boss?
Either way, meeting him for dinner was technically on the agenda. The venue simply switched and a dress code was set forth. And if I was going to figure out what happened to my father as well as see if my new boss had anything to do with it, then I needed to get close to him. Intimate with him. Talk to him in atmospheres that weren’t specifically work-related. By the sound of it, this dinner was exactly that. Another chance at an intimate encounter.
And I could leverage that for my own personal use.
I felt conflicted. On the one hand, he didn’t act like the kind of man that would do something like that to my father. Who would fire a man before a formal investigation into harassment claims women reported my father for. He talked about morals and ethical principles he wanted to instate in his company. He was known for them in the companies he flipped. He seemed to want to run Casual Recreations with those same ethical notions people attached to him in the classes where we studied him and his tactics. This type of thing didn’t fit his persona.
But anyone with enough money could be anything, and I couldn't work for a person that had the potential to do what was done to my father. I couldn't work for Kenneth if he had any hand in the downfall of my father’s career and life. It was that simple. Whether I exposed what he did or simply used it to garner a good reference so I could find another job, that was really my goal. I was past angry. I’d dealt with my father’s death that happened as a result of that firing.
But I couldn't work for him if he had a hand in it.
That was the real issue behind all this.
My fingers flew across the keyboard and I sent him an email back. I agreed to his dinner, telling him I’d see him around eight o’clock. I closed my laptop and dragged myself to bed, exhaustion falling over me like a weighted blanket.
Then I slipped into a slumber, where my mind dreamt of nothing but Kenneth’s hands sliding along my body.
Kenneth
I checked my watch as I sat there in the lounge. Ten past eight, and Tiffany was nowhere to be seen. I took out my phone and checked my email. Maybe she wasn’t coming? That didn’t make any sense. She didn’t say anything about not coming. But she was officially late, and I didn’t like that. This wasn’t simply a pleasure call. I did want to talk with her about how the day went. How our meetings went. Where that left the company. I panned my gaze around, trying to see if she had showed up.
No one had ever kept me waiting like this.
I hoped this wasn’t a habit she would create. Being late. I wouldn’t tolerate that at work back at the office. While she impressed me with her recall skills the night before, that didn’t make up for being untimely. Punctuality was everything in my world, and if Tiffany couldn’t keep to a simple lounge meeting, then how could I expect her to keep up with my demands on a day-to-day basis?
I looked at my watch again and almost got up to leave. Fifteen past eight. I had plenty of other things I could’ve been doing other than sitting around and waiting for my secretary to show up. But the second my eyes panned over to the entrance of the lounge, there she was.
And she looked gorgeous.
Her pencil skirt framed her hips and clung to the deep dip in her waist. Her cream-colored blouse was tucked in and a thin, bright-yellow belt was threaded through the loops of her skirt. Her heels clacked along the floor and she approached me, and for a microsecond I was speechless. For a split moment, the world faded around me and all I could see was her smile. Her shapely legs. The way her strong shoulders rolled back in confidence.
But only for a second.
I stood from my seat and buttoned my suit jacket. Tiffany had a smile that could blind a room, and I was no exception. I pulled out her chair for her and she sat, quietly thanking me for my efforts. I pushed it underneath her before I took a seat, suddenly no longer perturbed at the fact that she was late.
“Would the two of you care for anything?” the waitress asked.
“I’ll have a whiskey neat,” I said.
“I’ll take a glass of red wine, please,” Tiffany said.
“Red wine. A nice choice.”
“It’s my go-to.”
“Ah. And what do you drink when you’re having a good time?”
“Why can’t I drink red wine all the time?” she asked with a grin.
“No harm in that,” I said. “So, what did you think of our two meetings today?”
“They were long and drawn out, but served their purpose. The Swedes enjoy their talking, don’t they?”
“They do business a little differently than we do in the States. But it’s worth the catching up.”
“You were able to renegotiate both contracts, which is good. But they were ultimately for more money. On our end. Why?” she asked.
“You have to spend money to make money. Giving our clients a better product will yield better returns in the long turn. Finance won’t be incredibly happy with me in the short-term, but in the long-term they’ll thank me.”
“How do you know whether its best to play the short game or the long game?” she asked.
“Take it from me. It’s always best to play the long game. Even if some belt-tightening has to occur. But don’t worry. Casual Recreations hasn’t hit that point yet.”
“The long game or the belt tightening?” she asked with a smile.
The waitress set our drinks down in front of us and Tiffany smiled up at her.
“I appreciate it,” she said.
“You’re very welcome. Can I get you two anything else?” the waitress asked.
“Do you have a small appetizer menu?” I asked. “If you do, I’d love to see one.”
“I’ll get you one,” the waitress said.
“This week is only getting started however,” I said as I turned my attention back to Tiffany. “Tomorrow’s meeting will be rough.”
“How so?”
“We’re meeting with the company’s longest-running contract, and they’ll try to use that leverage to stay where they’re at. The contract we have right now benefits them greatly, but doesn’t benefit us as evenly. I want to correct that tide, but it’s going to come at a cost to them.”
“What if they don’t go for it?” she asked.
“Then I’m prepared to drop them as clients.”
“What?” she asked flatly.
“They’re our longest-running contract, but not our highest-grossing. The second rule of business is always knowing how to prioritize. In the health and wellness industry, longevity doesn’t always mean a decent product. Products can always be updated and made better, and those products will always cost money. Ther
efore, the highest-grossing contracts take priority over longevity, because the upfront cash is necessary.”
“Makes sense. But if you lose that contract altogether, won’t you be losing money in the long-run?”
“Not if I make the right investments with the right updated products, no. They’re more expensive, but the margins are usually better as well. The better margins will help, over time, to conceal what we might stand to lose with one contract being dropped.”
“Sounds like a massive numbers game.”
“It is, so if you want to tackle this field for yourself, be prepared. Or hire a damn good accountant.”
She giggled as she wrapped her lips around that wine glass and I stared. I couldn’t help it. Her colorful eyes and her jet black hair paired with her dark purple lips. Fuck. This woman had to know how sexy she was. With those eyes and that stare.
She knew what she was doing.
I was sure of it.
“How are you liking Switzerland so far?” I asked.
“I haven’t seen much of it, to be honest,” Tiffany said.
The blush that crept into her cheeks made my groin pulse.
“Could I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I said with a grin.
“Why did you choose to stop flipping companies?”
“I wanted to settle down. Pour my efforts into one company I could see myself sticking around with for a while.”
“You make it sound like a marriage.”
“In a way, it is. A company takes time. Work. Constant input versus output. A bit of romancing. Schmoozing.”
“A company takes romancing and schmoozing?” she asked.
“When a man takes a woman out for, say, a drink. Like now.”
“Uh huh. Like now.”
“Correct. Like the two of us sitting here. I came in a few minutes early to pick the right spot for us to sit. The best lighting. The best view of the liquors at the bar. A place where we could talk without being eavesdropped on without completely hiding ourselves away. But I didn’t order for you. You knew what you wanted the second you stepped into the bar. A business is like that. You hunt for the perfect industry. The perfect spot to blossom that industry. The best lighting. The best spot for the storefront to sit, if it’s a physical location. The best way to advertise.”
“The best view of the liquors at the bar,” she said with a grin.
“Exactly,” I said, chuckling. “All of that takes time and planning before the opening of the store happens. And if you’ve positioned your business right-”
“Then your customers will already know what they want before they walk in.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“What company did you have the most fun at? You know, when you were flipping them?”
“Honestly? I think it was my time at Instatech.”
“The consumer tech company?” she asked. “Wait, Instatech. Roman Edwards?”
“That’s the one.”
“Did you get the message from him I left for you? I’m not sure if I used that system on my computer right.”
“I did get it, and I’m impressed you’re catching on so quickly with the new technology. Though, Roman can be a little rough around the edges, so if he got smart or sassy with you, let me know. He’s been on my case for a long time about hiring a new secretary, so there’s a chance he showed his ass when you picked up the phone.”
“You could say he did that, sure,” she said.
“Then my apologies for his actions. Roman is many things, but delicate he is not.”
“I’ll make a note of that.”
“And that little trick you had last night? The one where you effortlessly remembered everything I told you about our week? That was impressive.”
“In my defense, there wasn't much to remember.”
“And now you’re being modest. Which is fine. You can be if you want to be,” I said.
“Glad I’ve got your approval.”
“I’ll take that as sarcasm and keep going,” I said, grinning.
“Was Instatech a favor to a friend then?” Tiffany asked.
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s not one of the companies I studied about in some of my classes. And believe me, we studied a lot of them.”
“Then, yes. Instatech was a favor I did for Roman. Without going into too many specifics, the company had some financial issues it was sorting out and was struggling to bring in income, but didn’t know why. I was happy to help.”
“That says a lot about you,” she said. “Using your expertise to help a friend and not advertising it in any way.”
“Don’t worry. I did have selfish motives. Even when flipping companies, I kept to the health and wellness marketplace. Delving into Instatech was not only outside of my comfort zone, it was outside of my industry expertise. The last thing I wanted was companies from all sides of the galaxy descending and asking for my help.”
“It must be so terrible being so talented,” she said mockingly.
I chuckled as I took my first sip of my drink. Tiffany was easy to talk to. Easy to banter with. Things flowed more simply with her, and I enjoyed that. Most women were airheaded. Damsels in distress. Women with issues who needed fixing. Or wanted to be fixed with all the gifts I could purchase for them.
But not Tiffany.
She was different. Special.
Someone I found myself to enjoy.
“Do you interact much with the companies after you flip them?” Tiffany asked.
“Not really. Sometimes an owner will call me out of the blue. On occasion I’ll see an employee from one of the companies out and about. Like when I took over Casual Recreations. One of Instatech’s employees now works in our H.R. department.”
“Mr. Lochter?”
“You know him?” I asked.
“I know of him. I made friends with Paige Dotson? His new secretary down there.”
“Ah. So the secretaries do gossip about the bosses.”
“Not really. Paige just told me there’s been some chatter about you possibly firing Mr. Lochter or something like that.”
“And the office gossip begins,” I said, sighing. “No. I’m not firing Mr. Lochter. I’m restructuring the company, not firing people left and right.”
“I never meant to insinuate that you would. Just wanted to let you know how I knew the man’s name.”
“And I appreciate that. So, if you and Miss Dotson ever get to talking again, you can let her know that her boss has nothing to worry about.”
“Then I’ll do that,” she said with a grin.
The night went well and the two of us partook in some food. Light appetizers and a few drinks. Nothing fancy or over-the-top. Tiffany struck me as the kind of woman who didn’t do over-the-top. She was passionate. Raw. Independent. And those kinds of women didn’t enjoy the dimly lit restaurants and the fancy clothes. Those types of women enjoyed something real. Something simple. Something that wasn’t distracting to the ultimate goal of conversation.
I changed the venue to fit what I’d learned about her in our brief time together, and it seemed to be paying off.
Which was good for me, because I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let her go just yet.
Tiffany
“He did not,” Kenneth said.
“Yes! He did!” I said as laughter poured from my lips. “He stood right up there and used our entire class period to tell us what he would’ve done if he was flipping the company. And it was insane stuff, Kenneth. Like, painting-the-walls-in-shimmering-colors kind of insane.”
“I bet a nice glittering pink would’ve looked wonderful on Lively Beings walls,” he said with a grin.
“Can you imagine? A company that specialized in calm, muscle-soothing massages having some bright pink color on their walls?”
My head fell back with my laughter as Kenneth and I continued to talk. I was three glasses of wine in and I felt myself growing a little too comfortable. We’d blown past the t
opic of Instatech, but I couldn't bring myself to wrap things up with him. I enjoyed his company. His conversation. His presence. The way he phrased things and the way he explained things was better than any educator I’d had during my stint in college.
I wanted to keep talking with him.
“Did you get enough to eat?” Kenneth asked.
“Oh yes. Four plates of shared appetizers is quite enough for me,” I said.
“Care for another drink?”
I looked down at my wine glass and felt my head swim a bit.
“While I’d like to, I better not. We do have those meetings tomorrow and I don’t think it would look very good on you to have a hungover employee at your side.”
“I’ve got plenty of hangover cures that would help,” he said.
I could’ve sworn I saw a twinkle in his eye, but I shrugged it off. I was teetering a dangerous line and I needed to remove myself from the dinner we’d enjoyed. Or the meeting. The dinner meeting? I didn’t really know what this was, but I was enjoying it.
Way too much.
I stood to my feet and a waitress came over with a receipt. She handed it to Kenneth and he tucked it away in his coat, then he ushered me out of the lounge. We walked to the elevator and I could feel his body heat radiating against me. His hands were clasped in front of him as we stood at the elevator, and I side-glanced him as the doors opened.
“When did you pay the bill?” I asked.
“It’s automatically billed to the room.”
“Ask a dumb question, receive a dumb answer.”
“No question you could ever ask would be dumb,” he said.
“Want to try me?”
“That may or may not have been a dumb question. Good job.”
I giggled as we walked into the elevator and I reached to press the number for my floor. I was painfully aware of how close Kenneth was standing to me. We had the entire elevator, yet we were bumping elbows. I drew in a deep breath and tried to keep my wits about me. Tried to ignore the electricity sliding up my spine. I counted the floors, waiting for that moment the doors would spring open and I could be free of the thickening tension between us.