by Claire Adams
"Was," Ivy said. "I'd be willing to bet his reputation slides from here on out."
"How much?" I leaned against the door and crossed my arms.
"Ten thousand dollars." My jaw dropped, and Ivy laughed. "You keep forgetting about your money, don't you? Happened to me too, at first. You'll get used to it."
"It's not the money," I said. "It's this insane idea that Rainer is interested in me. In that way. He's the one I told you about. He horned his way onto my project just in time to get the big bonus. And now I'm stuck working with him. We're in major crisis mode."
"How romantic," Ivy said.
I groaned and shoved away from the door. "Just because Matthew started off as an arrogant snob and turned into the husband of the century doesn't mean fairy tales come true. You got lucky."
Ivy checked her watch. "Seems to me you're luck has been improving these days. Ever since you ran into Rainer. Is it safe to assume you're not free for lunch?"
"I'm sorry, Ivy. I'll make it up to you," I said.
"With a double-date? Perfect."
I groaned again. "Isn't it enough that I let you shop for me?"
"Oh, no, you did all that yourself. And you look wonderful, by the way," Ivy said. She picked up her purse and headed for my office door.
"Ivy?" I called. "Thanks for stopping by. I still can't wrap my head around the whole billionaire thing."
"Who cares about the money?" Ivy asked. "You've got other things to think about, and I hope you do."
I knew she didn't mean work, but I smiled anyways. "Drinks soon, no matter what is going on."
Ivy opened the door. Amy turned around so fast she almost fell out of her chair. Ivy had that effect on people. Not everyone was used to seeing a high-society darling live and in person. And Rainer hadn't even blinked. I knew because his eyes were on me. I shook off the thought and helped Ivy past my star-struck assistant.
Walking back from the elevators, I almost collided with Rainer's rushing assistant. Topher caught the flutter of papers before they flew everywhere and made room for me to walk past. Then he followed me, stopping only when we reached Amy's desk.
"Could you please let me know when Ms. Nichols has a free moment?" Topher asked Amy.
Amy snorted. "She's right there. Like a foot away from you."
Topher looked pained at my temp's lack of professionalism. He was about to explain her job description when I sighed. "Come in, Topher. I trust you have pertinent research for me."
The young man followed me into my office and laid out four crisp, new reports. "I sent these to your assistant, but then I made extra copies while printing these for Mr. Maxwell."
I picked up the first report as Topher's phone buzzed. The young man jumped as if the phone gave him an electric shock. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Nichols, but it is Mr. Maxwell. He's actually calling me."
I nodded and let the surprised assistant take the call. Topher was obviously underutilized by his boss, and it irritated me. Amy sat outside at her blank desk and waved at the copy machine repair man.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Nichols, but I have to go," Topher said, his face glowing with excitement. "Mr. Maxwell wants to run through the reports with me."
He rushed out without shutting the door. I let out a long, controlled breath and shut the door myself. It had probably all been a ploy, a showy little move that was supposed to prove to me that Rainer was taking his work seriously. I didn't buy it, and, based on the reports I was reading, I didn't have time to be impressed. GroGreen was getting national attention as a problem, it was being touted as the new monster threatening America's health, and I had to find a way to get out ahead of it.
Finally, I sat down and opened up the plan I had started.
My office door popped open before I heard the jaunty knock. Rainer stepped in and shut the door behind him. "Sorry to show up unannounced, but your assistant is truly useless. You'd be better off sharing Topher with me."
I fought the urge to throw a stapler at him. "It hasn't even been an hour. I really need to get some work done."
"We," Rainer said. "We really need to get some work done. That's why I sent your assistant to the Vista Cafe to get us some lunch. No telling what she'll bring back, but we'll survive."
I glared at him, but it had no effect. Rainer pulled one of the stiff-backed chairs closer to my desk and settled in. With a grin, he loosened his tie and popped open the first button of his crisp, white shirt.
"What are you doing?" I asked, dragging my eyes away from the tempting line of his jaw.
"Brainstorming. Remember? We need a plan to stop the nation from going all pitchforks and torches on our app."
"Our app?" I laced my fingers together and squeezed. Rainer lounged in the uncomfortable chair with no reports, no notes, not even a pen.
"Hey, did I hear that your sister planted those orange trees in the atrium? She must really have a green thumb," Rainer said.
I blinked, my fingers going lax. "My sister? Yes. She took on all the gardening after . . . Do you want to borrow a notepad? For your brainstorming?"
Rainer studied my face, saw the gaping hole in the conversation, and gave me a sympathetic pass. "Is your sister all corporate driven like you?"
I tossed a legal pad at Rainer harder than was necessary. "No. Barbie is not all 'corporate driven.' She couldn't ever stand desk jobs."
"What does she do now?" Rainer asked.
I started to glare at him but realized he was being sincere. He honestly wanted to know more about my family. Maybe it was how he skated by without doing much; everyone liked talking to him because he was genuinely interested.
"She's six-months pregnant, and the doctor has warned her repeatedly to take it easy," I said. "That's what she's doing now."
Rainer smiled and nodded. "Let me guess: she's not good at following doctor's orders."
"No," I said, refusing to enjoy the easy flow of our conversation.
"It's gotta feel good knowing you've got a niece or a nephew on the way. No wonder you're so focused on getting your big money all squared away."
"Speaking of that, we need to focus on work," I said. I closed down the document containing my plan and focused on Rainer. "Any ideas yet?"
Rainer leaned back in the stiff chair and stretched. "Well, I was thinking about how someone like your sister might use the app. We've got to show the nation the best aspects of it. Why not create a community garden? We could document the whole thing, show the app being used in the real world, and get people out there, literally on the ground."
I tore my gaze away from Rainer's flat stomach and felt the room reel. In one casual comment, he'd hit on the very idea that I had spent half the night forming. I thought about Topher as a spy, but dismissed it. My plan was no more than a few notes that no one but myself had seen. I had to admit that despite his reputation, Rainer had razor-sharp instincts.
"Come on, Tasha. Don't dismiss it just because I said it."
I took a deep breath. "I had the same exact idea. Here, let me show you the notes I've already started."
Rainer jumped up and leaned over my shoulder. I opened the document and tried not to notice how work was bringing us closer than ever.
Chapter Eight
Rainer
I woke up with a stiff neck and realized I was still on the couch. My cavernous living room was cold and still, the sunrise starting on the other side of the mansion. I had sat down late last night to watch the moon set beyond the Golden Gate Bridge, and never bothered to head upstairs to the master suite. Now, I heaved myself off the couch and stretched.
"Ridiculous," I said in the echoing room.
My old couch, the decorator-chosen one that had fit my old condo so perfectly, looked like an abandoned piece of junk. My furniture pieces were shabby squatters in my vast, shining mansion.
Not that I blamed Sheila, my ex-interior designer. She had taken my rejection to heart and decided her schedule was just a little too full to accommodate me. I had no choice but to move in what I
had and deal with it. I rubbed the sore muscles in my neck as I dragged myself upstairs to the master bathroom.
Sleeping on the couch was a terrible choice, but my bed was too lonely in the upstairs suite. I had avoided it, and all the far-fetched fantasies I knew would keep me awake.
Tasha and I had put in an amazing day of work, and it was still all I could think about.
Without the benefit of an overeager assistant, Tasha had taken our idea and turned it into a full-blown plan. By the end of the day, possible locations had been chosen, and she'd already started negotiations with one city. The GroGreen community garden was already taking shape.
I yanked a towel out of a moving box and dug up my essentials. Once they were dumped on the long counter, I turned on the luxurious rain shower head. The hot water eased the pain in my neck but did nothing to chase away the other nagging ache. I smiled under the deluge, thinking how shocked and disapproving Tasha would be of me falling for a co-worker, but that only heated me more.
I was falling for Tasha Nichols. Her dark, flashing eyes and that smile that always gave me a little jolt. The floral scent I caught every time she brushed back her hair. Those black high-heels and legs. I wondered if she was a runner; they were so sculpted and smooth. I could picture her jogging, her curves caught in a tight tank-top, still bouncing with every step.
I cranked the water to ice-cold.
It would be a snowy day in hell before I caught more than a glimpse of her legs under a conference table. Tasha had loosened up yesterday, but she was still all business. Sure, there were a few times when her laugh was genuine, when her hand brushed my arm, when I caught her watching me. Still, she had deflected every invitation I had offered from happy hour to dinner to a ride home. Tasha was all business, and I was just going to have to get used to it.
Plus, she was friends with Ivy Madison. I knew Ivy's husband, Matthew, and had had an entanglement with not one, but two of his gorgeous cousins. I was certain my reputation was cemented in Tasha's mind, and there was no way I was getting out of it. Tasha thought I was a shameless flirt, a playboy, and nowhere good enough for her.
She was right.
I didn't treat women badly, just casually, and there wasn't a casual bone in Tasha's body. She was serious, and I was certain there was no way she would ever take me seriously.
A hundred plans jumped to mind as I turned off the shower and dried off. Tasha's one disadvantage was that she had to work with me. The board had dictated it, Stan expected it, and she couldn't brush off those facts. Tasha was stuck with me. Now, all I had to do was show her I was more than my reputation.
I smiled at myself in the steamy mirror. There had been that one glorious moment yesterday when Tasha and I were on the same page. She was so shocked that I had hit on an idea similar to the one she had started; the look on her face gave me hope. We spent the rest of the day arguing out the details. It had taken all my best negotiation skills to make sure she divided the work evenly. Tasha was used to doing everything herself, but she also wanted to. She was hell-bent on going it alone.
So, my first plan was to be by her side every step of the way. Sure, she was going to hate it, but I had hope. Even our chief operations officer had noticed.
"You're two sides of the same coin; anyone can see that," Stan had said. "But if you move too fast, if you spook her, if you even think about hurting her, I will end you."
That little exchange was still a roller coaster ride every time I thought of it.
I was wondering about it again when my phone rang. "Evan, surprised to hear from you. Isn't this normally your tee time?"
"Not as surprised as I am that you picked up. I just thought I should check on you, considering all the bad press you and your company is getting. Father's worried you'll be heading out on another one of your benders," Evan said.
"I'm not an alcoholic, Evan, and I'm not hung over. In fact, I have to leave for work in a minute." I put the phone on speaker and set about shaving.
"You're still going to work?" Evan asked.
I gritted my teeth and narrowly avoiding nicking my throat with my razor. "Yes. Not everyone stops working as soon as they think they've made enough money."
"I've got a patient this afternoon," Evan said. I could hear the bitter edge as soon as I mentioned money. "Seems like you have a lot of work ahead of you."
He wanted me to agonize over the bad press my success was getting. Evan wanted me to know I still didn't have our father's approval. Too bad he was going about it all wrong. Thinking about work did nothing but make me happy.
"Sorry, bro, gotta run. Early meeting." I hung up the phone and whistled while I finished shaving. In less than an hour, I was meeting Tasha at the garden site.
It felt great to arrive early and catch the shocked look on Tasha's face. She took the cup of coffee I handed her and blinked at it. "What's this?" she asked.
"Your favorite. Americano with a splash of cream. I asked the head of security before I left last night," I said.
"You asked Otto my favorite kind of coffee?" Tasha asked.
"Sure. He's scary as shit, but he likes you. When he knew what I wanted, he almost smiled." I took a sip of my own coffee and enjoyed her dazed expression.
Tasha pulled herself together and nodded. "Thanks. I'm just surprised to see you here."
"I'm a morning person; who knew," I said.
"No, it's just, I, I didn't think we'd decided you needed to be here." Tasha headed towards the community center office.
"I'm here," I said. "What first?"
Tasha's quick stride hitched, but she recovered quickly. "First, we have to decide if this is the right location."
I caught her arm and turned her around. "There's a large park over there, sports fields, a junior high school just up that hill, and the community center right here. The vacant lot is on the opposite side of their parking lot and borders the school grounds. How could it be any more perfect?"
"You could have seen all that from the satellite maps," Tasha pointed out.
"Is that how you would have decided?" I asked. "You're here. I'm here. Get used to it, Ms. Nichols. We're a team."
Tasha pulled her arm from my grasp and slopped some of her coffee on the ground. She scrubbed at the splatter with her new pair of Jimmy Choo heels. The understated cream color turned to a bright golden glitter around the heel, and I swallowed hard. Her long legs stretched from her pale pencil skirt and the satin pink of her blouse only served to make her copper-colored hair gleam.
Strawberries and cream, I thought.
"Besides," I said through a tight throat. "I know you don't like getting in front of the cameras."
Tasha scowled at the news vans that were crowding the small community center parking lot. "Did Stan send them or was that your bright idea?"
"I'd love to blame Stan, but it's your fault for getting me into work mode. We need to be transparent and show the nation that we are here on the ground ourselves," I said.
"Fine, you can do that," Tasha said. "I'm going inside to see if we can actually get the permits."
"Paperwork is definitely your dominion," I said. I opened the office doors for her while I waved at the news reporters. "I'm going with our whole 'lead by example' idea. Sound good?"
Tasha gave me the ghost of a smile. "I'm sure you'll make it sound great. Just don't get too excited."
"Then get inside before I start to think you just gave me a compliment." I shut the glass-plated door in her face.
I swore Tasha was about to stick her tongue out at me when the reporters appeared. I watched her shake hands with the head of Parks and Recreation before I turned to face the dozens of questions.
I held up both hands. "Hyperion Industries is determined to show the United States, and the entire world, that GroGreen is more than just a fun game. The application has excellent tools for hands-on use, so we've decided to put it to use ourselves. Today, we are laying the framework for our first GroGreen community garden."
Th
e reporters were skeptical. One short reporter shoved her recorder in my face. "What does 'laying the framework' entail? Sitting in the community center conference room all day?"
I let the barbed comment bounce off me. "I see you haven't met Tasha Nichols, our GroGreen team leader. Sitting in meetings is not the style of leadership that created such a versatile and innovative application. Thanks to Tasha Nichols’ hands-on involvement, we have two Hyperion executives here, on the ground, and ready to lead by example."
"So, you'll be in the garden yourself?" another reporter asked.
I grinned and nodded. "I'm looking forward to it. GroGreen has the task-list abilities to turn even my thumb green. And you are all welcome to join in."
I left the reporters to put their spin on my claims. It would take a lot more than a quick promise from a slick executive like me to turn things around. Tasha had the real task of convincing the Parks and Recreation Department to allow us this experiment. As I joined her in the conference room, I realized it was going to be more of an uphill battle than we had thought.
"Ms. Nichols, I appreciate the scope of your vision and your generous offer, but we are just not sure this is what we need right now," the department head told her.
"You think it's a publicity stunt. We're moving too fast and you'll be left holding the bag," I said.
Tasha flashed a look at me. "Mr. Reynolds, this is my associate, Rainer Maxwell."
Mr. Reynolds shook my hand. "I appreciate you cutting through the bull, Mr. Maxwell. We are not interested in developing that patch of land without a long-term vision."
Tasha opened her briefcase with an authoritative snap. "Then, please, consider this five-year development plan. I've included a yearly review as well as lines of communication that will offer daily support."
I realized Tasha must have worked on that plan last night while I wandered aimlessly around my empty mansion. I was impressed. More importantly, Mr. Reynolds was impressed.
"Thank you. I'm not saying your project is not worth our consideration. We just need to be cautious for our community's sake." Mr. Reynolds opened the report and started scanning it.