by LP Lovell
“Mr Thomas.” He says, and the old man rises to his feet with a groan, before shaking Landon’s hand. “Landon Banks.” He introduces himself.
“Ah, the man at the helm.” Thomas says, chuckling to himself.
“Sorry I’m late.” He says easily.
“Oh, you’re not.” I grate. You’re not late because you’re not supposed to be here, now fuck off! God, I wish I could say that.
Landon rounds the conference table with that predatory grace he wears so well, taking a seat next to me. He turns slightly, angling his body towards me. My skin prickles with awareness, and I take a steadying breath.
“As I was saying Mr Thomas, here are my proposed suggestions for you. Each company has its merits depending on what you want. One through three are three to five-year turnover investments, turning a more secure profit around the five percent range.” He nods, holding his chin between his thumb and index finger as he reads the document I carefully prepared. Landon reaches out and takes the file from in front of me. I scowl at him, and he smirks, keeping his eyes fixed on me as he opens it. He tears his eyes away and frowns as he skims over the page which is a replica of the one in front of Thomas. I clear my throat and focus. “Options three through seven are longer term investments, ten-year investments that may return up to fifteen percent.” He looks up at me, smiling.
“Well, I like fifteen percent.”
I hold up a hand, halting him. “Yes, but as you know with a ten-year investment, the market could fluctuate massively.”
“In order to win, you have to take risks.” Landon throws in, closing the folder and chucking it haphazardly onto the desk. He props his elbow on the table, twisting his body to face me even more. We stare at each other for a few seconds, until he cocks his eyebrow.
“The decision is yours, Mr Thomas. By all means, take the proposal and read it over.” I say, trying to urge caution because I know exactly where this is going. Landon comes in here with his expensive suit, his good looks and his ‘I own the world’ attitude, and basically throws down with ‘In order to win you have to take risks’. In man speak this is, look how big my dick is. I’m a risk taker. I’m a winner. What are you going to be? And you’d think Thomas is old enough to know better…
“No, Mr Banks is right. No point in playing it safe. I’ll transfer funds to you this afternoon. Pick whichever you think is best and go all in.” He says, shaking his head as he closes his file, and stands.
Oh, my god. I stand up and shake his hand, trying to hide my disapproval as I watch him walk out of the office with a slight limp. The second the door clicks shut I round on Landon who is still lounging in the chair; his thighs spread casually and his head lolling over the back of the chair.
I lean over, grabbing the arms of his chair, and bringing my face close to his. “What the hell are you doing in my meeting?” I growl.
He lifts his head and presses his lips together, cocking an eyebrow. “This is my firm, Miss Roberts, and I’m well within my rights to oversee my staff.” My grip on the chair tightens, my nails pressing against the plastic until a dull throb starts in my cuticles. I think my eye is twitching. Yep, it’s definitely twitching.
“So, I need overseeing now?” My voice is low and careful, my words designed to provoke him to think before he fucks me off.
He sits up, bringing his face even closer to mine. I refuse to back down, even when I can feel his warm breath blowing over my lips. “You weren’t going to close that.’’ His eyes lock with mine, and it’s as though there’s a physical force pushing against me, demanding I back off, back down. Fuck him.
“I don’t need to pull my cock out to get a client to invest.” I snap.
His eyes dance with amusement and the corner of his lips twitch. “Well, that would be a feat, Georgia. A disappointing one at that.”
“You might be my boss, but these are my clients, clients I brought to your firm.” The smirk slips from his lips.
“Seems as though the kitten has her claws out today.” His eyes lock with mine in a tense standoff. The air shifts and my pulse picks up. I hadn’t realised how close to him I was until now, until my tongue darts over my dry lips, drawing his eyes to my mouth where it remains.
I’m caught in a snare, being hopelessly drawn to him and imagining what it would feel like to have those full lips against mine, his strong hands around my waist, in my hair.
His eyes drop further to my chest, and I realise he must have a clear view straight down my blouse. And suddenly it’s too close, too much. I’m a hairs breath away from doing something stupid. I blink and straighten, staggering back a step. I squeeze my eyes shut, before turning and picking up the folders off the table, clutching them against my chest as if they can somehow shield me from him.
“I’m not a kitten, Mr Banks. You’d do well to remember it.” I storm out of the conference room, slamming the door behind me. Only once I’m outside do I take the heaving breath that I’m so desperately in need of. So much for avoiding him. Shit.
I step into Ice and feel as though every eye is on me. Of course, if what Landon said is true then everyone thinks I fucked Collins. Oh, god, that’s a disgusting thought. I mean, yes, it’s shit for my professional reputation for people to think I fucked my boss, but it’s worse for my personal one. I mean, seriously? That man is repulsive.
I move through the suit-clad bankers, and they part in front of me. I flash a smile at some of the guys from Elite. Dan steps forward, his eyes straight at my cleavage, a creepy smile on his face like he thinks he’s about to hit a home run. He’s just the kind of mentally deficient idiot who would believe a rumour and chance his luck.
“So, Georgia…”
I hold a hand up. Now usually I’d try to handle this with a little tact, but I’m not in the mood. “Dan, I know exactly what you’re thinking, and I would rather lick white dog shit than touch your disgusting dick.”
His expression drops and a scowl forms on his face as I shoulder past him, ignoring the sniggers from his colleagues. Quinn sits at the bar, as usual, talking to some guy I’ve never seen. She turns to face me when I pull out the stool beside her. The guy lingers beside her, and I flash him a look, the look, and he leaves with his tail between his legs.
“You look like you’re about to stab someone.” She says before taking a sip of the Cosmopolitan in front of her.
“Just Dan.”
She rolls her eyes. “How the fuck he even has a job I’ll never know. I’m pretty sure he should still be sucking his mum's tit.” I snort because it’s so true. Quinn isn’t in the banking world, but she socialises with me, which means she socialises with them. She knows every backstory, every whispered bit of gossip, the who’s who. And she’s been hit on by Dan more times than I can possibly count.
I hold a finger up, signalling the bartender, but he doesn’t even come over, just starts making the Martini I’m gagging for.
“So, how’s it going with the boss man now?” She asks a slight smirk on her face as she lifts her drink to her lips.
God, where to begin. I drag a hand through my hair, blowing out a long breath. “I hate him, so I’m avoiding him.”
“Uh huh.” She nods, tilting her head to the side in a little nod.
I narrow my eyes at her. “What?”
“Well, you’re not really an avoidance kind of gal, George. Never have been, which means that he must really be under your skin.”
I sniff. “Yeah, well I really hate him. He’s an arsehole.”
She laughs. “You like him.” She accuses, cocking an eyebrow. “Or you at least want to fuck him. I’ve seen pictures. I don’t judge.” She holds her hands up in mock surrender.
I ignore the entire notion. “I’m steering clear of him until he fucks off back to Dubai or wherever it is he came from.” I say with more confidence than I feel. The problem is, how do you steer clear of your boss? Especially if he decides he doesn’t fancy that idea. There’s not a lot I can do.
She leans in close
, whispering. “He’s been here four days, George, and he already has you on the ropes.”
“I’m avoiding him.” I hiss, and I don’t know whether I’m convincing her or myself.
She arches an eyebrow, sipping on her drink. “You make sure you do that. Remember, the rules don’t change just because he’s a looker.” No, but they’re a damn site harder to follow.
I down the rest of my Martini. “I’m not feeling this shit tonight? Want to leave?” I’m in a shitty mood and the idea that even Quinn can see how Landon affects me, having never even met the guy, well that fucks me off.
She frowns but nods. I know exactly what she’s thinking. I’ve never left a bar early because I didn’t want to be there. I’ve stayed, plastered a smile on my face and spoken to dick heads I’d sooner tell to fuck off because it’s expected and trust me, a career can be made just as much in the bars and clubs of London as it is in the offices.
Maybe it’s Banks, the way he cuts through all professional courtesy and pushes my buttons, hell, the fact that he even knows where my buttons are already. I can feel my façade slipping, and I know I should care, but right here, right now, I can’t find it in me to claw it back. I need to leave in case I do indeed decide to tell someone to fuck off. I’m not about to willingly toss away everything I’ve built just because he’s getting to me.
Quinn follows me to the lift and we leave. I’m not sure I even want to go to the Mayfair bar. I might just bail and go home. Fuck, that man is raining on my bloody parade.
The rest of the week is torturous. Landon turns up in another one of my meetings, and whatever this is, this…attraction I have for him, it’s getting worse. He pushes my buttons and thus pulls my strings like I’m his very own puppet. Yet each morning I go to see Angus and Landon sit there without saying a word whilst I attempt to completely ignore him. On the outside, it works. I don’t even glance his way, but in reality, it’s a completely different story. I’m hyper aware of him, my body jumping to attention at his mere presence. I hate it, but I have no control over it. It’s a visceral reaction. A bone-deep pull so primal that it’s etched into my very DNA. There’s nothing rational or even conscious about it, it just is. I’m attracted to Landon Banks in ways I didn’t even think were possible. Trust me, I hate everything about this, and I’m sure to make it clear whenever I have to interact with the bastard. Angus glances between the two of us, and I can see him trying to work out what the hell is going on.
I’ve just left one such awkward interaction and am in my office when there’s a knock at the door. “Come in!” I shout.
The door cracks open, and Angus pops his head through the gap. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” I gesture to the chair on the opposite side of my desk, and he closes the door before taking the seat, perching on the edge.
He opens his mouth to start speaking and then closes it again. I cock an eyebrow, waiting for him to say what he has to say, but he looks…embarrassed.
“Okay. I don’t mean this offensively, but is there something going on with you and Landon?” He blurts.
My eyes widen. “No!” I squeak.
He holds his hands up. “Not that I’m prying.” He says in a rush. “It’s fine if you are, but you’re both acting very strange, and I don’t want you to leave us.” He stammers. “You know, after your last boss.” I never told Angus about Collins, so either that came from Giles or he believes the bullshit rumours and thinks I screwed Collins. Brilliant.
I grab a handful of papers on the desk and start shuffling them, simply so I can avoid having to look at him through this mortifying conversation, only made worse by the fact that Angus looks like he wants to crawl into the deepest darkest hole he can find and never come out.
I finally lift my gaze to his. “I can honestly say that I would never sleep with anyone inside of this building, Angus. You have my word on that.”
He nods, dropping his gaze to his lap. “Okay, good. That’s… that’s good.”
“Great, so we’re okay?”
He nods stiffly, a frown pinching his brows together as he scrubs a hand over his short beard. “If that’s not it, though, then why are you so off with him?”
I sigh, tilting my head back slightly. “Honestly?” He nods, waiting for me to make some great revelation. “I just don’t like him.”
He bursts out laughing, throwing his head back and pressing one hand to his stomach. “Amazing. I knew I liked you for a reason, Georgia. I’ll see you at one for that lunch meeting.” He pushes up from the chair, buttoning his suit jacket.
“I’ll be there.”
He ducks his head as if he’s giving me a little bow before he turns and walks out of the room. I smile. Angus is an odd man, but also one of the most genuine, a trait that’s hard to come by in this business.
I step inside the restaurant at twelve forty-five, scanning the room for Angus and Giles. Giles just sold his park side apartment in New York, and he’s pushing for huge investment with the money. We want the best shot for him, so Angus and I have both come up with separate proposals.
Of course, if we have to lunch clients then we have to do it properly. This place is just around the corner from the office and serves French food. Contemporary music drifts around the room. My heels sound entirely too loud on the stone floor as I walk in.
“Oh, this is nice. I’ve never been here.” Eva comments beside me. I’ve brought her along because, well, she asked if she could come and I’ve become quite fond of her. It’s Giles, so I know he won’t care, and she can take notes or something.
I hear Giles before I see him, his booming laugh sounding around the large room. I follow the sound to the bar, where he’s cradling a glass of wine and talking to Landon. Landon. What the fuck is he doing here?
I approach them, being sure to glare at Landon when he looks my way. “Giles. How are you?” I ask, allowing him to embrace me and kiss my cheek.
“Ah, Georgia, darling. I’m very well. You look beautiful.” The man could charm the birds out of the sky.
“Thank you. Giles, this is my assistant, Eva.”
He takes her hand, kissing the back of it, his lips lingering as a small smile forms on his lips. I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Another beautiful one.” He says before turning to Landon. “We’re lucky to have such company.”
Landon fixes his gaze on mine. “Indeed, we are.”
That thing flutters in my stomach, and the invisible weight that only materialises around him presses on my chest. “I didn’t realise we had the pleasure of your company today.” I say, leaking just enough acid into my voice to let him know I hate him.
He flashes me that wry smile. “I just like to catch you off guard, Ms Roberts.”
I feign a small laugh, before pointedly resuming my scowl for a moment and turning away from him.
A waitress in a black dress approaches us. “Your table is ready. If you’d like to follow me.”
Giles follows after her, and I’m pretty sure he’s staring at her arse. She leads us to a table right next to the window. Landon brushes against me, pulling a chair out and gesturing for me to sit. I begrudgingly sit, and he pushes the chair in behind me. I’m hyper aware of him standing right behind me and a small shiver moves over my body as if anticipating that he might touch me. Of course, he moves away, sitting beside me. He takes the bottle of wine from the ice bucket in the middle of the table and pours me a glass before pouring another and passing it to Giles.
“Thank you.” I say quietly. Eva and Giles are chatting to themselves, and she has her back slightly turned to me.
Landon and I sit silently until he breaks the reigning awkwardness. “Angus should be here in a moment. He got tied up.”
I nod, refusing to look at him. “Good.”
He leans into my side, so close that his arm brushes against mine. “Did I do something to upset you, kitten?”
I turn to face him, my eyes locking with his. “Call me kitten again and we’re going to ha
ve a problem.”
Those perfectly full lips pull into a smirk. “Tell me, is it just me you dislike so much or are you this delightful with everyone?”
I focus my gaze in front of me again, picking up my glass of wine and twirling the stem between my fingers. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr Banks. I simply like to keep clear professional boundaries.”
“Of course, boundaries are so easily crossed when dealing with someone as uptight as yourself.” He says, his voice laced with amusement.
I whip my head around to face him. “I am not uptight!” I snap, trying to keep my voice low.
He leans in, bringing his face closer to mine until I can actually feel his breath on my skin. “I beg to differ.” He whispers as his eyes flick down to my lips. That thing starts to simmer between us, filling the space with a certain expectation. My heart hammers against my ribs, and my breathing picks up until my chest feels too small for my lungs.
Someone clears a throat loudly, and I jump back and focus on the table, willing the heat to disappear from my cheeks.
“Landon…” Giles starts, engaging him in easy conversation. It’s muted by the roar in my ears. This is ridiculous. He goads me, and every time I fall into it.
“Is that some kind of foreplay?” Eva whispers, leaning sideways and bringing her lips close to my ear.
“No!” I snap. She snorts and holds her hands up, still smiling.
Then Angus turns up and starts looking between Landon and me like we’re about to mount each other. Oh my fucking god. I cannot deal with this!
“Lets get down to business shall we?” I say, already exasperated, and we haven’t even begun.
“Of course.” Landon replies, his voice dropping into something sensual and gritty.
I clench my jaw and dig my nails into my palm hard enough to cause a bite of pain. I feel as if everyone is looking at us, waiting for something. Fucking brilliant. Shoot me now.