by L. P. Dover
“Yes, as a matter of fact, you can,” I say, returning her smile. “Is there any way I can speak with Mr. Wainright?”
“Did you have an appointment?”
I shake my head. “No, but it’s important. Can you tell him Mia Hudson is here to see him? I met with him briefly yesterday.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” She smiles again and hurries to the back. I take a look around while I wait, admiring his hard work. Making it big in the fashion industry is almost impossible without the right people supporting you. In a way, I’m glad I haven’t taken the plunge yet. There’s no way I would’ve succeeded on my own.
“Ms. Hudson.” I turn around and Mr. Wainright greets me with a warm smile.
“Please, call me Mia,” I say, taking his outstretched hand.
“Mia it is then.” He’s wearing a designer suit with his gray hair perfectly coifed, looking very classy and elegant. He clasps my shoulders and brushes a swift kiss on one cheek, then the other. “Are you here on Mr. Ward’s business?”
I bite my lip. “No. This is strictly on my terms, to give you my personal insight on the matter. Mr. Ward doesn’t know I’m here.”
His lips spread wide. “I see. I have to say, I’m intrigued. Would you like to talk in my office or shall we take a walk?”
I glance outside the window at the bright blue sky. “A walk would be perfect.”
He takes my hand and wraps it around his arm as we step outside. His actions are very gentlemanly; I like it. “What would you like to talk about, young lady?”
Clearing my throat, I take a deep breath. “I’d like to start off by saying how sorry I am for the way we left. Mr. Haggart has a way of bringing out the worst in people. I know firsthand.”
“I saw that.” He chuckles.
“And I also want you to know, Mr. Ward is an exceptional businessman. I can guarantee if you take his offer, your company will flourish in the long run. Doing nothing will ruin the hard work you’ve already put in. I’d hate to see that happen. Your store is amazing.”
We walk past other fashion shops and he sighs. “I hate failure. Every day, I walk these streets and watch people go into other shops, maxing out their credit cards. All I’ve wanted was to make a name for myself. My mistake was putting my faith in the wrong things, the wrong people.”
Stopping at the edge of the street, I turn and face him. “And we can give you the help you need. Don’t let Mr. Haggart’s idiocy sway your judgment.”
He bursts out laughing. “I take it he’s the boyfriend Mr. Ward mentioned?”
“How did you guess?” I ask, eyes wide.
“I may be old, but I’m not blind. I saw the look on all of your faces when you sat down for lunch. It’s a good thing I can make my own decisions.” We turn around and head back to Les Belle.
“What do you mean?”
He grins wide. “It means, I was prepared to give Mr. Ward my company long before the lunch meeting. Having you here today only proves I was right. I’ll give Mr. Haggart a call this evening to let him know my final decision.”
Holy hell! I want to jump up and down and squeal with excitement, but I can’t. I have to stay professional, even though my adrenaline is spiraling out of control. I can’t wait for Parker to find out.
“Thank you, Mr. Wainright. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Since we’re on a first name basis, you can call me Charles.”
“Charles it is then.”
Working at the gym is monotonous. I do the same things every day and see the same people. I never realized until today how empty it all felt. It makes me wonder how many people just go through the motions of everyday life, totally unfulfilled. But Parker must enjoy his job. He makes a shit ton of money and does whatever he wants.
Being around him brings back all sorts of memories I'm not prepared for. We’re not in high school anymore, but when I’m with him, I feel like the past couple of years haven’t been a complete waste.
Once the day is done, I finish my classes and close up the gym. There are towels that need folding, and I hurry with those before I make sure the front door is locked. Parker hasn’t called me, so he must not know about Les Belle yet.
“So you’re an associate at Ward now, huh?” Zac snaps from behind me.
“Jesus,” I growl, jerking around to face him. “You’re seriously gunning for a restraining order, aren’t you?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a threat to you, Mia, you know that.”
“More of an annoyance, really,” I add. “What do you want?”
He leans against the side of the building. “What were you doing with Ward? I know you don’t work for him.”
I shrug. “He wanted my advice and I gave it to him. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“It is when it involves my client. I heard you went to see him today.”
I walk toward my car and he follows. “I did. He’s a smart man.”
“And one who’s easily swayed by your charms.”
When I open my car door, he slams it shut. Growling, I turn around. “Are you throwing a tantrum because you lost?”
He backs me into the car, sending chills down my spine. “I don’t give a damn about the deal. Charles can sink his own ship if he wants to. My concern is you and Ward. What’s going on there? Are you fuck buddies now, is that it?”
Anger boils in my veins. I don’t even have time to think about what I’m doing when I rear back and smack him across the cheek, snapping his head to the side. “Leave, now.”
Slowly, he turns to face me, his smile growing wider. What the hell is wrong with him? It’s like he gets off on me bitching at him. He moves close, confirming my suspicion.
“I said leave!” I shout, clenching my fists. Before I can knee him in the balls, he’s pulled away and thrown to the ground.
“Did you not understand her the first time, fuckhead?” Parker yells, poised and ready to fight. “What the fuck is your problem?” He grabs my arm and pulls me behind him. I love how protective he is.
Fuming, Zac gets to his feet. “Just wait, Ward. Your luck will run out one of these days, and I’ll be there to watch you fall.”
Parker snorts. “You’ll be waiting a long time.”
Zac glares at us both before getting in his car and speeding away. Parker doesn’t take his eyes away from him until the car disappears down the street.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim, slapping a hand to my chest.
Parker turns, his burning gaze on mine. “What the fuck, Mia? Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was between you two? You used to be able to tell me anything.”
“Yeah, a long time ago. We’re not as close as we used to be.”
“That’s not my fault.”
I blanch at his comment. “I know, it’s mine. You have no idea how much I regret the decisions I made.”
Sighing, he pulls me into his body and I breathe him in, relaxing instantly. His arms are familiar. “We all have regrets,” he admits. “But if that cocksucker comes anywhere near you again, I’ll fuck him up.” He rubs a hand down my back and then lets me go.
I shake my head. “You need to steer clear of him. He’d slap an assault charge on you in a heartbeat. You can’t risk the integrity of your business over this petty crap. I already almost lost you a deal.”
A mischievous smile spreads across his lips. “Almost?”
“Stop being coy. I know you know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here,” I state. I’m not naïve enough to think he’d come see me for no reason.
“Okay, fine. I came by to say thank you. Mr. Wainright was really impressed with you. I’m actually interested in hearing more about what you had to say. How about dinner tomorrow night? Strictly business.”
Of course he has to add that in there. At least it won’t be considered a date. I start to say yes, but then remember a phone call I’d received from my mother. “I can’t,” I say regretfully. “My mom asked me and Drew to come over for dinner.”<
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For a split second, I swear I see disappointment flash in his gaze, but it disappears quickly. “A raincheck then?”
I nod. “Sounds good.” He smiles and starts across the street to his car. “Parker, wait.” He turns around, lifting his brows. “Want to have dinner with us? Mom said I should bring someone. She’d love to see you.”
“Is she going to make her homemade biscuits?” He sounds hopeful.
I burst out laughing. “For you, I’m sure she will. So is that a yes?”
He smiles wide. “Yes.”
My mother is thrilled with having Parker come over for dinner and she makes extra biscuits so he can take some home. I can’t wait to see his face when she hands them to him.
“So how did you and Parker get reacquainted again?” she asks.
I stir the mashed potatoes. “It just kind of happened. He asked for my help with one of his deals and I agreed. In the end, it looks like he’ll be buying out Les Belle.”
Eyes wide, she rubs her flour-covered hands on her apron. “That’s right up your alley, isn’t it? Have you shown him your designs? He could help you get the contacts you need to get up and running.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to use him for that. Besides, he didn’t ask for my help inside the company. He just wanted my input on whether he should invest or not.”
“What a shame,” she sighs. “But I’m sure he’ll help you if you just ask. You two used to be pretty close.”
“A long time ago.” The doorbell rings and my heart jumps.
My mom turns back to the stove. “Do you mind getting that, sweetheart?”
“Sure,” I say, leaving her in the kitchen.
Andrew and my father are in the living room, talking about golf, and clearly not paying attention to the door. I walk by them and they don’t even acknowledge me. Men. When I open the door, Parker is there, dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue button down shirt. He is always so hot. Did he ever so much as have a bad hair day?
I stand out of the way and motion him inside. “Welcome. Come in.”
“Thanks,” he says, stepping forward. He sees Andrew and my father talking, but turns back to me. “How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Can’t complain. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Dinner’s ready,” my mother calls from the dining room. Andrew and my father get up and greet Parker before walking into the other room to sit down.
Throughout the whole dinner, my parents ask Parker varying questions on what it’s like to be a multi-millionaire, and of course, he’s modest about it. Andrew and Parker banter back and forth until Andrew gets a phone call and has to leave. Over the entire meal, I don’t think I get in two words.
My mother starts to get up, but Parker puts a hand over her wrist, stopping her. “Mia and I will clean up. Why don’t you and Mr. Hudson go into the living room and relax for a bit?”
She pats his hand. “Aren’t you a sweetheart.” Her fingers brush across his watch, her eyes almost popping out of her head when she looks at it. “That’s an amazing watch you have there. It’s so nice to see you kids moving up in the world, being able to afford such nice things. I’m astounded at how far you’ve come.”
I know Parker’s smile melts her heart. “Thanks, Mrs. Hudson. It’s been a lot of hard work, but I enjoy it every day.”
I glance down at his watch, astounded at the intricate design around the facing. I’ve never seen one like it before. “Where did you get it?” I ask him, reaching for his wrist. My hand touches his and it feels like our connection sizzles.
“I had it custom made. Lucy Grant at Exquisite Designs does everything for me. I had a bracelet made for my mother a couple of years ago. Lucy’s the best in the field.”
I let his hand go. “I don’t even want to know how much you paid for that. But I’ll have to check her out. I’ve always wanted custom jewelry. That design is stunning.”
“I know someone else who has amazing designs,” my mother cuts in. She winks at me and I glare at her. I know what she’s doing. “Mia told me about Les Belle. Has she showed you her designs? I think she could really turn that place around.”
Getting to my feet, I snort and wave her off. “Mom, please. He doesn’t want to see that stuff. Can you hand me that?” I ask, reaching for her plate.
“Why wouldn’t he? I think it’s just what Les Belle could use to get the boost they need.”
Holding my breath, I hurry into the kitchen. It’s scary showing my designs to someone for the first time; especially to someone who’s opinion actually matters. If Parker likes my designs, that’ll mean I have to work for him. Probably not a good idea to work for someone you’re attracted to.
I know he’s standing behind me, but I ignore him and rinse off the dishes.
“I’d love to see your designs.”
Sighing, I dry my hands off and turn to face him. “What if you don’t like them?”
He passes me a plate, his gaze locked on mine. “That’s not going to happen. Do you have the designs with you?”
I shake my head. “They’re at home.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to come over and see them. Tomorrow night work for you?”
My head nods of its own accord and before I know it, I’ve agreed to another night with him. It’s a mistake getting close to him, especially if he finds out what I do in my spare time. The solution to it all is simple . . . keep my distance.
As soon as I step off the elevator the next morning, a busty brunette stands to greet me. “Hello, Mr. Ward. I’m Tonya, your new assistant.”
I shake her hand slowly while looking over her shoulder at Mrs. Jones, who looks terrified. I know Mrs. Jones was looking to hire an assistant for herself, but not for me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tonya. Now if you’ll excuse me,” I say, brushing by her. “Mrs. Jones, my office.”
“Yes, Mr. Ward.”
As soon as my coat is hung up, Mrs. Jones steps into my office, closing the door behind her. “Are you quitting?” I ask, quietly.
“No, sir.”
“Then why is she under the impression she’s my new assistant?” I point to the wall, where Tonya is waiting on the other side.
“The temp agency wrote the paperwork wrong. I’ve called and corrected them, but she doesn’t seem to understand.”
“Let’s make sure she understands. By the way, if you’re ever thinking about retiring, please do me a favor and give me a year’s notice.” She’s all I’ve ever known at Ward Enterprises. The last thing I want is some half-wit thinking she’s going to take Mrs. Jones’s place when she retires. That shit isn’t going to happen.
“I’m not going anywhere, Parker.” She only calls me Parker when she’s being motherly. She pats my cheek and leaves, closing the door behind her.
As soon as I sit down, I turn on my computer and launch a web browser. Typing in Les Belle, I surf through the reviews, the online store, and how they’ve been doing their marketing. The website yields nothing new and I make a note to have it immediately revamped—if I decide to let the company continue, that is. I’m still not sure if it’s in my best interest to keep the doors open, or sell off pieces to other fashion companies. A nice bidding war would ensue, which could earn me a lot of money.
There’s a knock on my door and before I can invite them in, Tonya is walking in with a tray of food. It looks like it came from the cafeteria downstairs, a place I’ve only eaten in a few times. Call me old-fashioned, but I like the mom-and-pop deli on the corner and prefer to eat a sandwich and chips when I’m not having a business lunch.
“What’s this?” I ask, even though it’s clear it's supposed to be lunch.
“I took the liberty of getting your lunch for you.”
I eye her skeptically. “Where’s Mrs. Jones?”
Tonya shrugs, which is never the answer to give a boss. “Did I not get your order right?”
“Who told you to order for me?”
Tonya
looks over her shoulder, causing me to hold my breath. If she blames Mrs. Jones, I’ll fire her on the spot. She would never tell a temp to order my lunch, and in the event she was out sick today, I’d order my own.
“I’m just trying to fit in,” Tonya says as her voice breaks.
“Stop,” I state bluntly. “Just do your job. You’re not trying to impress me, but Mrs. Jones. She’s your boss, not me.”
“Yes, Mr. Ward.”
Tonya turns to leave, but I call her back. The minute I say her name, I regret it. Her eyes look hopeful and she squares her shoulders as she walks back to me. “Take this tray, please.”
“Oh.” Her face falls. “I’m sorry.”
I refuse to engage in any more conversation with Tonya, choosing instead to turn back to my computer as she walks out of my office. I catch the look on her face as she struggles to close my door with the tray in her arms. Sometimes an eager temp or office clerk is too much for me to handle. They take a job, thinking they’ll sleep their way to the top and that doesn’t happen here. I refuse to engage in sexual activity with anyone I work with.
My palms are sweating, and my heart feels as if it’s trying to take over the space my throat occupies. Why are my palms sweating? I’m not a damn teenager anymore, and I refuse to believe I’m nervous about having dinner with Mia. It’s a ridiculous notion, especially considering this isn’t our first dinner, nor will it be our last. This also isn’t the first time I’ve been to her house. I helped her move in, paint, and was even here when the delivery man brought her new bed in.
This is, however, the first time since Zac though. Not that it should matter.
I pull up along the curb in front of her quaint home. Reaching for the flowers and bottle of wine I picked up before driving over here, I get out of my car. I’m still in my suit from work, having opted not to go home and change.
The fresh smell of oregano hits me as I step up to her door. My fist is poised to knock, when the door flies open. Her hair is down and is blown back from the gust of wind she created. Her smile is electrifying, igniting something dormant inside of me. I push down the thought of hiking her tight skirt over her hips and feasting on what surely is a magnificent treasure trove between her legs.