Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1)

by Teresa Michaels

  “When will this program be available?” Stan asks.

  “If it’s approved by the board it will be effective immediately.”

  “Can we add facilities to the list of partners?” another staff member inquires.

  “Yes. There’s an application process which we’ll review on a quarterly basis.” I pause and survey the room. “Any other questions?”

  Jack thanks me and the team gives me a round of applause. I’ve worked my ass off on this program and though I’ve implemented other programs in the past, I’ve never done one on this scale. It finally feels like it’s paying off. Fingers crossed my family will be able to benefit from it too.

  I return to my seat as Ted, the head of Finance, takes control of the projector and pulls up his twenty-nine slide presentation on cash flow, filled with bar charts ad nauseam. Some are the same as Jack’s, though positioned differently. I love being involved with the business but seriously how many ways do we need to see the same information?

  Ted drones on about the P&L and I wonder how no one has fallen asleep yet. Needing stimulation of some sort, I bite my pen and begin bouncing my leg absentmindedly while mentally reviewing my growing to-do list.

  Follow-up notes for legal. Finalize communication plan for Elder Care Program. Get updated brochures for the employee assistance plan. Approve list of charities for volunteer program. Get fondled under the conference table.

  WHAT?!

  Strong fingers grip my upper thigh and I freeze. It takes all my concentration not to audibly gasp. Turns out that’s not a hard thing to do when you’ve stopped breathing.

  He’s touching me. Holy shit, he’s touching me.

  If I bite this pen any harder I’ll crack a tooth or it’ll explode in my mouth. The alternative is moaning and I’m not chancing that. For reasons only my body knows, I’m freaking out on the inside. Possibly because the skirt of my wrap dress shifted when I sat down, creating a slit the size of Texas over my thigh, and apparently an invitation to touch me. Only the thin layer of my stockings separates our skin.

  His large hand makes a slow, torturous decent down my leg until he’s cupping my kneecap. Everything south of my bellybutton clenches.

  Everything.

  Lucas leans into me. With his mouth hovering over my ear he whispers, “Stop fidgeting.”

  His harsh tone contrasts with the warmth of his breath that lingers on my neck. Apologizing crosses my mind but I can’t find my voice. What’s the point anyway? I’m so turned on I’m not sure I’m sorry about a damn thing.

  What is wrong with me?

  His hand remains in place long enough for his point to be made. Like an idiot, I nod. His thumb caresses the outside of my knee just once before it’s gone. Either that or I’m losing my mind. The meeting continues around me yet all I can think is, please put your hand back.

  Sadly, the meeting concludes without the slightest graze, ending seven minutes past our scheduled time. The minute we’re all excused Lucas bolts from the room and I’m not sure what to make of it. I bet he’s a stickler for being punctual. Somehow knowing that his next meeting is with me makes me giddy…until seventeen minutes pass and he’s a no-show.

  Seventeen minutes of reliving his hand on my leg, rationalizing that he just wanted me to stop bouncing my leg. Time spent hoping that it was only an excuse for him to touch me. Seventeen minutes denying that I enjoyed it while simultaneously wondering if I imagined it.

  I’ve officially lost my mind.

  I finally give up on Lucas and head to the restroom. On my way, I hear boisterous laughter coming from Ted’s office. As I’m passing, I view Lucas casually leaning against the whiteboard, listening to Ted rant on about boating. Lucas’s lack of interest in the topic is so evident, yet Ted will never catch on. He’s longwinded and doesn’t get many visitors for that purpose. That, and he’s known for finding ways to insert buzz words into every conversation.

  Either Lucas didn’t know what he was getting himself into, or he’s purposely wasting time to avoid me. Judging by his expression, I’m guessing it’s a bit of both.

  Whatever, let him suffer.

  I take two steps and pause, rethinking my position. If Jack or my manager thinks for a minute that I can’t handle this, there’s no way they’ll believe in my ability to influence others.

  Screw it.

  I knock on the door. Lucas appears relieved until he’s sees that it’s me.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to steal Lucas.”

  “To be continued then,” Ted exclaims.

  “Indeed,” Lucas replies with mock enthusiasm.

  We walk in silence down the hallway. Nearing our offices, Lucas doesn’t miss a beat, making a b-line for his door.

  I follow.

  “Would you rather meet in here?” I question.

  His jaw ticks side to side. I want to tell him he’ll get TMJ if he keeps doing that, and then I picture him with his jaw wired shut. Wouldn’t be much different than now I guess considering he doesn’t speak much, at least to me, but it’d still be satisfying.

  “Now’s not a good time.” He leafs through stacks of neatly organized files, clearly ignoring me.

  “We have a lot to cover, Lucas. Next week’s workforce pl—”

  For whatever reason he’s completely put out by my presence. “Didn’t we just meet the other day?” he has the nerve to ask.

  The amount of restraint it requires not to throttle him would be embarrassing if he could read my mind. “You mean when you walked out bef—”

  “Email me the details,” he curtly dismisses me from behind his desk.

  As composed as possible I remind him, “I did that on Tuesday, and will you stop cutting me off?”

  “I’ll get to it later, Gabriella.” The man could not sound more annoyed.

  “Gabby,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

  His eyes fall to the ground near my feet and slowly travel up my legs. I hate how the tiniest bit of attention from him draws a physical response on my part.

  He grabs his notebook. “Gotta run,” he tells me while casually walking toward me. He pauses inches from where I stand. “Appears you do as well.”

  He’s gone before I can respond, leaving me standing bemused in his doorway.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I question out loud, heading back to my office.

  Flopping down in my chair, I groan and stare at the ceiling, counting the dots in the drop ceiling tiles. I sit up and wipe my hands down my legs only to have my fingers catch in my stockings. Great, I’ve got a run.

  Gotta run.

  Lucas’s words click.

  Someone’s a comedian. And a dick.

  I’m not a quitter but for now I’m done. This is too draining. As much as I need to invest in Lucas, I can’t let work with my other business partners slip because of it. Not to mention my imagination is running wild with memories I’ve clearly concocted. I need to go on a date.

  After a quick trip to the ladies’ room to dispose of my ripped nylons, I pull up the spreadsheet I’ve created in preparation for the divestiture’s due diligence and get started.

  It’s nearly 4PM when Mike knocks on my door. He takes a seat and starts shooting the shit about random things. In less than five minutes I’ve forgotten what a shitty week I’ve had—until the topic turns to Lucas and how great he is. It makes me fume when Mike comments on his responsiveness and the ideas they’ve collaborated on.

  Must be nice.

  Clearly Lucas’s pissy attitude has been reserved for me only. Should I feel honored? At least I don’t have to speculate anymore. He’s definitely got an issue with me.

  “How are things between you two?” Mike asks. I forget that he knows me too well.

  “Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “That bad?”

  I shrug. I could confide in Mike and it would stay between us, but I feel like that’d be betraying Lucas. Not that he deserves any level of loyalty based on his behavior to date. C
all me naïve but I still have hope.

  “We just haven’t found our groove.”

  He raises a brow and waits. When I don’t take the bait he comes around my desk and begins kneading my shoulders. I close my eyes, letting the tension roll off me.

  “Don’t stress over it. Everyone loves you, Gabs. You’ll get there.”

  “Mmm hmm,” I groan as my skin begins to tingle.

  “Lucas,” Mike calls out. “In here.”

  I should have known he was near.

  I exhale and open my eyes. Lucas stands just outside my office, his attention focused on Mike’s hands. His expression gives nothing away, but if I had to guess he doesn’t approve. Mike doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, mate?” Lucas lifts his eyes and finally replies.

  “My last meeting canceled. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Mike gives my shoulders one last squeeze and returns to the chair opposite me. “Lucas and I are grabbing a drink. Why don’t you wrap up whatever you’re working on and join us?”

  I look to Lucas and find him watching me in a way that makes it abundantly clear I’m not welcome.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got plans.”

  “Oh, right. It’s Thursday,” Mike replies.

  “What’s special about Thursday’s?” Lucas asks, his interest surprising me and pissing me off in equal measure.

  “She—”

  “It’s personal,” I cut Mike off.

  Lucas’s been an epic dick since we met. He doesn’t get to know details of my life outside of work.

  I shut down my computer and grab my coat from the back of my door, closing it slightly. When I’m out of Lucas’s line of sight, Mike and I have a silent exchange. What I do on Thursday nights isn’t a big deal, yet Mike knows my family’s important to me, and if I want Lucas to know, it’s my decision not his. He nods acknowledging just that.

  I reopen my door and put on my jacket.

  Why is this so awkward?

  Mike drums his hands against my desk and then stands. “I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here,” he tells Lucas. “See ya tomorrow, Gabs.” He playfully ruffles my hair on the way out.

  “See ya.”

  I sling my laptop bag and my new pink Kate Spade purse over my shoulder and close my door behind me, putting me inches from Lucas who hasn’t moved.

  I both love and hate his proximity… I think it’s mostly hate. It’s gotta be. At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of at this very moment.

  “Is this how it’s going to be? Constantly blowing me off or giving me one word responses when it suits you?”

  “I had to run,” he says flatly as the corner of his mouth twitches.

  “Right, you mentioned that.” God, I hate that I want to smile too. I hate that the mischievous twinkle in his eyes make my stomach flip. I hate how well he wears his pretentious suits. And I really, really hate that I want to peel it off him and run my hands up his bare chest because I guarantee it’s chiseled.

  Lucas casually strides toward me with one hand in his pocket and rests against the doorframe with the other. He leans in and I grab the strap of my bag so that my hands are occupied. When his tie grazes my knuckles I clutch the leather so tight I’m at risk of puncturing the palm of my hand with my fingernails, yet the alternative of fisting the fabric and giving it a yank is so much worse that I don’t ease my grip.

  I need to get out of here.

  “That was four words since you’re counting,” he quietly informs me before pushing back slightly.

  His eyes dart to my bare legs. The asshole gives a sexy lopsided grin that makes me certain he’s torturing me on purpose. Asshole. “And if memory serves,” he continues. “You had something to take care of as well. You should thank me.”

  “Ha!” I roll my eyes and somehow convince my feet to start moving. I no longer want to yank on his tie so his body stumbles forward and is physically pinning me to the wall. I want to strangle him till he’s unconscious. “Don’t hold your breath.” I waste no time heading to the elevator.

  “That something only you’re allowed to do?” he calls after me.

  I stop in my tracks. “What did you say?” I call over my shoulder.

  Nothing.

  For a moment I worry he knows how much his touch affected me in the staff meeting; that his hand on my leg literally left me breathless. Relief washes over me seconds later when I remind myself that Lucas doesn’t seem that perceptive.

  I turn around to face him. He isn’t there.

  And per usual, he got the last word.

  Bastard.

  Chapter 5

  Gabby

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  44

  “Hey man,” Mike greets me as I enter his office Tuesday afternoon. “How was New York?”

  New York.

  I’d already forgotten I’d gone and I just returned last night.

  After grabbing drinks with Mike last Thursday, I made a last minute decision to take a four-day weekend. Getting the rest of my things packed wasn’t high on my list of ways to spend my down time. Neither was spacing out in meetings and having wet dreams about all the places around the office I’ve imagined having my way with Gabriella. If I couldn’t keep myself from thinking of her I at least had to get some distance.

  A lot of good it did.

  I met up with Dara, seeking a much-needed release. Dinner flew by. She talked and I listened. Or rather I tried to listen. Shit, who am I kidding, I didn’t even do that. I was too busy comparing her clothing, her perfume, the feel of her leg, to Gabriella. Instead of going back to her place, I put her in a cab and sent her home after drinks. I went back to my empty apartment and gave myself some self-love, all while thinking thoughts of the bubbly brunette who invades my thoughts day and night. How sick is that? She’s become a bit of an obsession that needs to be squelched ASAP.

  “Uneventful. Yours?” I ask out of courtesy. I’m not terribly interested in his life. He’s a nice enough guy but I still haven’t figured out how he and Gabriella fit into each other’s lives outside of work. As much as I hate admitting it, it bothers me.

  “Nothing much. Few guys and I met up with Gabby and her friends.”

  Now I’m interested. An unfamiliar tightening squeezes my chest. I remind myself that it shouldn’t matter.

  “What’d you guys do?” I feign nonchalance.

  “We hit up Icon in the Theater District,“ he tells me. Sounds like a club. I ball my fists at my side at the idea of him rubbing his body against Gabriella’s while music pumps in the background. “Anyhow, you didn’t come to shoot the shit. What’s up?”

  “Right you are.” I walk further into his office, attempting to hide my annoyance and focus on the purpose of my visit.

  “I met with Stan earlier today about resources,” I tell him. Stan is another member of Jack’s team, and a shady one as far as I’m concerned. “I haven’t really begun to evaluate what I need, talent wise. He wants to give me three people from his team to help with the European market initiative. I don’t know them. Can you give me some insight?”

  Mike laughs and grabs a stress ball from his desk and throws it in the air. “Who’d he suggest?”

  “Davis.”

  Mike’s head volley’s side-to-side as he considers this. “He’s pretty solid.”

  “Rachael.”

  “Yes,” he says, tossing the ball again. “Take her. She’s a rock star.”

  Feeling slightly better I tick off the last name. “Tony.”

  His head drops back and he barks out a thunderous laugh. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he says, straightening in his chair and points at me. “You tell him ‘thanks, but no thanks.’”

  “Why’s that?” I take a seat on the arms of a chair.

  Cocki
ng his head to the side he eyes me hard. “You talk to Gabby about this yet?”

  “I’d rather get your perspective.”

  Mike smirks. “Let’s call her in now. It kind of ties into our next meeting anyway.”

  “The staff meeting?”

  “Didn’t you see Gabby’s note? Jack wanted to use the first half of this week’s staff meeting for workforce planning.”

  I stare at him blankly. This sounds vaguely familiar despite not having read her note.

  Mike shakes his head. “You’re gonna have to get over your issues with HR, my friend. Jack leans on her pretty heavily. This’ll end up looking bad for you, not her.” He’s right and it pisses me off. “Like I said, she’s good at her job and she’s a good person.”

  Last week over drinks Mike claimed he sensed tension between Gabriella and me, and wanted to know the deal. I couldn’t exactly tell him about my attraction for her, so I went with the next best thing—my distaste for HR. Not the full truth, but also not a lie.

  Gabriella enters Mike’s office moments later. Her good mood radiates to the point of being contagious. That is until she clocks me and her smile immediately drops. I quickly school my own expression, trading the grin that had appeared as if on autopilot just from seeing her, to one of disinterest.

  “Lucas,” she primly utters my name as if it pains her.

  I nod curtly. She narrows her eyes and quickly looks away. I take the opportunity to appreciate the snug pale pink cowl-neck sweater and form fitting black skirt she’s wearing. Both must have been tailored specifically for her body.

  I inwardly groan. Going without sex isn’t working as planned and missing Dara isn’t the issue.