Sinful Reunion (Book Two of the Bidden Series)

by Cierlak, Crystal

  "You were impressing me after I put you on the spot." Audra offered a serene smile before she stood, smoothing down the fabric of her dress as she did. "It was very nice to have met you, Natalie." Audra extended her hand for a second handshake, which Natalie obliged. "I'm flying out to Miami for business but I imagine you'll be meeting with my partner soon. He's very hands-on with our newer projects while I prefer managing the more established ones. I'm sure our company is in good hands with you."

  Natalie beamed at the vote of confidence. "Thank you so much. I look forward to meeting him and you again." She showed Audra to the door and then made an immediate beeline for the flowers, inhaling their scent again and wondering just how the hell James got her work address. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since they last saw each other. Not that she minded a little spoiling.

  She peeked up just in time to see Quinn sneaking back into her office, a conspiratorial look on her pretty face as she closed the door behind her.

  "Okay, who was that and why is she bringing you such gorgeous flowers?"

  Natalie sat behind her desk and shook her head. "The flowers weren't from her. They're from James."

  Quinn sat and leaned forward on the desk, looking more and more intrigued. "How does she know him?"

  "What? No! She is a client. Audra Robertson. The flowers are from James."

  Quinn's eyes widened. "Exactly!"

  Natalie felt utterly confused. "Am I missing something?"

  Quinn leaned in towards the desk further and lowered her voice. "I was in reception when that woman - Audra - came in with these flowers. She must have assumed I was the receptionist because she asked me to deliver them to your office in five minutes. I thought they were from her!"

  Natalie opened the card to double-check that she hadn't hallucinated the words on the card. She hadn't. 'Natalie. Congratulations, Miss Junior Vice President. James.' She slid the card across the desk to Quinn as she moved to her computer, pulling up the document containing the details of her client list that she'd examined earlier. She scrolled down until she found Fitson Entertainment Groupe and scanned through the information again, re-reading dates of establishment, various property titles, and down to senior management names and titles. There in digital black and white was the answer.

  Audra Robertson, Chief Operations Officer (COO)

  James Fitzgerald, Chief Creative Officer (CCO)

  "You have got to be shitting me."

  FOURTEEN

  The pieces had been in front of Natalie's face the entire time, and yet she still felt like she was struggling to put them together.

  Fitson Entertainment Groupe.

  James Fitzgerald.

  Audra Robertson.

  "Here it is! It's still open in your browser." Quinn held Natalie's phone in hand and swiped down the screen. "Audra Robertson, COO of Fitson Entertainment Groupe. Looks like they formed the company shortly before graduating from Princeton. It became a family company when-" She stopped abruptly.

  That's when all the pieces came together.

  "When James married Audra's sister, Celine Robertson, whom he also met at university," Natalie finished.

  "The sister of your lover's soon-to-be ex-wife just brought you flowers signed by your lover. That's some soap opera level drama right there."

  "Thank you, Quinn," Natalie groaned before retrieving her phone from Quinn's grasp. "Unfortunately that's not my biggest problem right now."

  Quinn scoffed. "What could possibly be bigger than that?"

  Natalie glanced up to double check that her office door was closed. "James is a client."

  "And?" Quinn asked.

  "And I've slept with him!" The words came out as an aggravated hiss, but what Natalie really wanted to do was scream. "I've slept with a client!" she clarified, because the full effect of her words seemed to be lost on Quinn. "And now I'm the Junior VP assigned to his company's account. That doesn't strike you as being a little too convenient?"

  "But you got the promotion before Vegas? Oh. Shit." Finally, Quinn understood. "You first slept with him five months ago."

  The more the potential ramifications of her situation unraveled the more she felt her heart constrict, her palms sweat, her head ache. This was bad. This was very bad.

  "I have to get back to work," Natalie said finally. She picked up her head and looked Quinn square in the eye, trying with each passing instant to gather herself. Suddenly she didn't feel so worthwhile and accomplished. Suddenly it seemed more and more likely that she wasn't given the promotion because she earned it, but due to nepotism.

  "If you need anything... Anything."

  Natalie nodded and tried for a smile but came up short and dismissed her friend with something more resembling the act of suppressing vomit. As soon as Quinn was gone she took a deep breath and focused her attention on her work. There were still documents and files to go over, emails to read, meetings to schedule into her calendar, and... who am I kidding? Natalie cradled her head in her hands and fought back the sobs that were attempting to push through her eyes.

  What am I going to do?

  The question haunted her the rest of the morning and well past lunch. She had no idea how she managed to sit in on meetings and shake hands in introduction to people when she was questioning the very merits of her position. But she couldn't very well march up to Graham Martin and ask him if she was chosen for the promotion because she'd slept with one of the company's biggest clients. And on the chance that everything was on the up and up - a chance that seemed less and less likely the more she thought about it - she couldn’t jeopardize her position by letting her personal drama affect her professional life.

  There was only one person she could find the truth from, and he was the last person she wanted to speak to at the moment. She couldn't even think of his name without swelling with irrational anger. Even if he had nothing to do with her promotion there was still the fact of the matter that she had slept with a client. Not even her ignorance to his professional connection to her exempted her from the ethical violation it posed, especially when considering their relationship was not yet finished.

  Natalie opened Pandora on her computer and turned on some Chopin to focus her attention on the work quickly piling up for review on her desk. She'd managed nearly thirty minutes of uninterrupted productivity when her office line rang.

  "Natalie Harlow," she answered automatically.

  "Natalie, it's Jenifer from Mr. Martin's office. He would like to see you if you have a moment."

  She tried not to panic. It was only her nerves and paranoia that made her instantly think something was wrong. Stay calm and get through work. You can explode at home when no one with firing power is around to hear you.

  "I'll be right there."

  She had to give herself a pep talk as she rode the elevator up one floor to Graham Martin's considerably larger office. His assistant, Jenifer, a severe looking woman whom Natalie decided to never piss off, nodded in the direction of Graham's office with her phone receiver pressed between her ear and shoulder. Natalie knocked and opened the door.

  "Ah! Natalie, thank you for coming," Graham greeted her with a handshake. "I'd like to introduce you to a client whose account you'll be heading. Natalie Harlow, this is James Fitzgerald, CCO of Fitson Entertainment."

  No! No, this can't be happening!

  James rose from where he was seated opposite Graham Martin's desk and held out a hand. He didn't smile, but Natalie could recognize his signature intensity a mile away. It was always those damn blue-green eyes that gave him away.

  "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Harlow," James spoke first.

  Natalie took his hand and squeezed it tight, perhaps a bit too tight. In any other circumstance she would delight in the smallest of physical contact with him, but all she could manage was something akin to seething horror.

  "Likewise, Mr. Fitzgerald." She kept her voice cold, distant. She wasn't putting on a show like he was, pretending they hadn't already been intimately a
cquainted.

  Graham stood between them and continued with the introduction. "The newest gem in the Fitson Entertainment crown is a luxury resort in Vegas called Eden."

  "Yes, I'm familiar with it," Natalie responded, smiling warmly at her new boss. "There couldn't be a more apropos name in a place called Sin City." She could feel James' eyes on her but she didn't dare look at him.

  "I could not agree more," Graham chuckled. "I can't remember who came up with the name first. Was it you or Audra?" he asked James.

  "That was definitely me," James replied with a modest grin. "Audra has far more class than I do."

  Graham chuckled good-naturedly and turned back to Natalie. "You'll meet her soon, Natalie. Audra is-"

  "Mr. Fitzgerald's partner and COO," Natalie interrupted. "Yes, we are already acquainted." From the corner of her eye she could see the humor fade rapidly from James' handsome face. "Ms. Robertson came by this morning to introduce herself. She brought me the loveliest bouquet of pink roses, too." Natalie looked pointedly to James, whose eyes had narrowed into an all-too-familiar intensity.

  "Excellent," Graham nodded. He looked up suddenly through the open door of his office and held up a hand. "Would you excuse me for a moment? It appears my wife is on the list of surprise guests today." He smiled at the both of them before exiting his office, closing the door behind him. Natalie and James were alone.

  "You look stressed," he said first. "First day nerves?"

  Oh, the irony! "Something like that," she said without looking up at him. Then, because she knew it would arouse his suspicion if she outright ignored him - and she wasn't yet ready to confront him with the mess of facts she'd cobbled together so far - she glanced up and offered what little smile she was capable of. "Thank you for the flowers."

  "You're welcome, Natalie. I hope Audra-" But he stopped short when Graham came bustling through is office door.

  "My apologies!"

  "Not at all," James smiled at him. "Graham do you mind if I borrow Natalie for the remainder of the afternoon? I have some ideas I'd like to discuss with your new junior VP but I have an appointment across town."

  "Please!" Graham offered to Natalie's mild disappointment. "What better way for Natalie to get her feet wet than to dive straight in?"

  FIFTEEN

  After retrieving her purse from her office, Natalie met James at reception and let him usher her to a sleek black Town Car idling at the curb just outside the building entrance. James opened her door and she settled in, placing her bag beside her on the seat to create something of a barrier between them. Once James was buckled in the driver wordlessly departed, merging into the afternoon traffic with ease. James was the first to break the silence.

  "You look beautiful today, Natalie."

  "Thank you."

  He sighed and a long pause followed. Then, "Is it just nerves that have made you so warm and cheerful today or are you genuinely not happy to see me?"

  Hot heat coursed through her veins, though not of the particular kind she was used to when she was around him. She took in a deep breath and forced a polite smile to her face. She was technically working even though they'd left the office.

  "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Fitzgerald. I'm afraid first day nerves have made me unpleasant company. You wanted to discuss some new ideas?"

  "That can wait. What's going on with you, Natalie?"

  She couldn't fake a facade for one more second. "Tell me, what do you think my reaction was this morning when I found out you're a client?"

  He turned in his seat to face her. "I imagine you were as surprised as I was when I learned you work for the agency that handles our marketing."

  "Uh huh, and when was that exactly?"

  "What?" He had the decency to look surprised.

  "When did you find out that I work for Brighton? Your partner said my boss sent my contact info to her this morning. But what I want to know is when you found out, James."

  A hard line creased between his brows. "What does that matter?"

  "Oh, it's nothing really," she said, dripping sarcasm. "I was just curious to know how deep into the ocean of ethical fucked-upedness I find myself in? Am I at the deep end of I fucked a client or in the Mariana Trench-sized I fucked a client who then orchestrated my promotion, and then fucked him again?"

  "Jesus, Natalie..."

  "Just answer the question, James!" she yelled, quickly losing her patience. "Is all of this just a very peculiar coincidence or have you been orchestrating everything from the start?"

  He looked angry, offended even. "I haven't orchestrated anything," he said firmly. "And I don't appreciate your tone, Natalie."

  "Oh I could give two shits about what you appreciate right now, James. Just answer the goddamn question. When did you find out?"

  He blew his breath out with harsh force and leaned back into his seat, turning his face away from her and out towards the freeway traffic that surrounded them. "After the Golden Palm."

  Incredulous rage filled her instantly. "How the hell did you-"

  "It was in your file!" he interrupted her, his voice rising in volume. "We keep files on all Candidates."

  "We?!"

  He shook his head. His lips were pursed tightly together. His brows furrowed so deep they threatened to bury his eyes. "Audra and I. The Golden Palm is hers. Ours technically, but she runs the day-to-day."

  Natalie felt sick to her stomach. Suddenly her paranoia didn't seem so unjustified. "You bought me at your sister in law's secret society sex club?"

  James whipped his head towards her, offense clearly visible on his face. "I did not buy you, Natalie."

  "Oh, right, you paid me for sex."

  "Technically I paid you for your company and a glass of champagne. You came back and slept with me of your own free will," he snapped at her.

  "What the hell does it matter what the technicality is?" she yelled, turning in her seat to fully face him. "Jesus! How far back does this go, James? Are you responsible for Quinn suggesting I put myself up for auction in the first place?!" Oh God, please say no. Please don't let the rabbit hole go that deep!

  "No!" He said it through gritted teeth. "Nor am I responsible for your promotion. I knew you worked at Brighton long before you came to Vegas. But I have a business to run, Natalie. I don't just sit at my desk plotting how to steer the course of your life. As far as I know, you stepping foot into Eden was a total coincidence, as was your assignment to my company's account."

  Natalie shook her head and turned back towards the window, failing to fight back tears that refused to cooperate with her. Their driver - who undoubtedly had heard their entire exchange, much to Natalie's chagrin - was now navigating them through suburban streets that only got pricier with each new block.

  "How can I trust you when I don't know what side of my world is up?"

  "Because you've helped me find the up in my world," he said softly after a long moment.

  She turned to look at him again, tears flushing the corners of her eyes. "What?"

  Before he could answer the Town Car pulled up into a driveway and parked. The driver never said a word.

  "Come on," James said, gesturing his head to the door as he exited. Natalie begrudgingly followed, grabbing for her purse as she stepped out of the car and onto the paved driveway of a very contemporary, very luxurious house.

  "What is this?" she asked.

  James came to stand at her side and looked up at the building constructed from stone, wood and metal. "It's Monday. You told me to buy a house."

  "I..." Natalie closed her eyes and shook her head. "Honestly I have no words right now. My brain has officially taken the rest of the day off out of protest."

  "I did a lot of thinking after you left yesterday and decided you were right. I've spent too much time playing Monopoly. I believe that was your particularly brilliant way of phrasing it." He nudged her shoulder with his own, a sign that his mood had lifted considerably just since stepping outside. "So I made a call to a friend. That fri
end had a listing he thought would be perfect for me. The price is good. I can easily work from LA full time and still travel when I need to. Hell, I may even get a dog. Want a tour?"

  Natalie was agog. "You're actually buying a house because I said you should?"

  "Seemed like good advice. And you were so passionate about it," he teased her. She finally looked at him, noting that he seemed rather serene, confident even, with his decision. "I know what it's like to have your world upended, to not know which way is safe to breathe. This feels like the safe way."

  She turned to face him and he followed suit, looking down at her with bright blue-green eyes.

  "You should buy me a Bugatti Veyron."

  "What color do you want it in?" he answered without missing a beat. Finally a smile broke through her foul temper, the effect immediately relaxing her. "There you are," he teased. "I think I prefer Rude Natalie to Angry Natalie."

  "Hey, you get whichever Natalie is available at the moment. No guarantees to preference."

  "I'm glad you said that, because I'd like to see much more of her. Of you."

  "James," she started.

  "I'd especially like to see Naked Natalie more often," he whispered, taking her hands in his.

  "We've basically known each other less than three days."

  He shrugged. "We'll get to know each other."

  "You're married."

  "Divorcing," he reminded, emphasizing the word.

  She locked eyes with him and said with equal emphasis, "You told me a man like you would ruin a girl like me."

  "I likely will. Though I'm beginning to think it is you who has ruined me, Natalie."

  "I have not!" she protested. "You live in a completely different world than I do, James. You said so yourself."

  "And that world would be infinitely improved if you were a part of it," he countered. "Any other excuses you want to throw at me, Miss Harlow?"

  "You're a client," she said firmly. "It's unethical for me to even be holding your hands right now."