Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1)

by Teresa Michaels

  “Gabby,” she lets out all the air in her lungs. “Darling, I don’t know what to say.”

  I step closer and take her hands in mine. “Say you’ll come with me tomorrow to tour the place.”

  My mother watches me warily. “Even with a discounted rate, it’ll still be expensive.”

  If I tell her it’s fully covered she’ll know something’s up. If the price is too high my mom will say she’d rather save her money and care for her like my grandmother cared for her as a child. The difference is that the stress is eating at my mom and if she continues to neglect herself I doubt she’ll stay in remission.

  “You don’t need to worry about that mom. With the employee discount it’s only $350.00 a month.” Times three. “Besides, it’s walking distance to home and here. It’s also one of the best facilities.” My mother looks optimistic for the first time in forever.

  “That’s too good to be true,” she says on an exhale.

  “That’s why we need to do it.”

  I hate misleading her but the thought of her health being at stake again is too much.

  “I’ll have to talk to your father and uncle about it.”

  “At least come with me tomorrow to check out the place,” I plead. “That way you’ll be able to make a more informed decision. They should come too.”

  She chews on her bottom lip and slips her hands into pockets of her skirt. “Okay,” she concedes, and then quickly holds up her hand to halt my excitement. “But it’s only a visit. No promises.”

  I kiss her forehead. “No promises. Got it.”

  Chapter 7

  Gabby

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  Something has got to give.

  “How can you not see the humor in this?” Ki scoffs, throwing down a wad of one-dollar bills. “Who in their right mind would ever give their HR Business Partner a magazine featuring an article on stress relief without sex?”

  He’s got a point and I hate him for it.

  “Why are we discussing this again?”

  “Because you’re hung up on this woman and I enjoy pointing out that even if you’re a borderline genius, you’re also an idiot when it comes to the opposite sex.” He shakes his head. “Seriously, man. She could have you fired.”

  “It’s not like that was the only article. Besides, Gabriella wouldn’t do that.” I have no idea why I’m defending her or how I know she wouldn’t report me. I just do.

  Ki challenges me with an expression that makes it clear he thinks I’ve lost my mind, but I don’t need to respond. He’s got a one-track mind tonight and his attention is easily deflected.

  Good thing since I’m horrible company. I can’t get Gabriella out of head and it’s not for a lack of trying.

  By the time I got home yesterday morning I was still on edge from my encounter with her. Of all the restaurants in this city, she had to be there. At the next fucking table. Talking about how bad she needs an orgasm and that she’d gladly…what were her words? Drop her panties in exchange for me not being a dick?

  Drop away.

  Within seconds of walking through my front door of my apartment I’d made a b-line for my bedroom, grabbed fresh clothes and jumped into the shower. An ice-cold shower.

  I should have just slipped out of the booth unseen. I mean it’s not like I gained anything from confronting her. I’d like to believe that I approached her, hoping it’d make her uncomfortable enough to back off and accept that I don’t need her help. Big fucking lie that is. Giving her that magazine crossed the line and I purposely wanted to make her squirm. Not because of work. Not to get her to back off. Nope, as a man I had to see first-hand if I was affecting her.

  I was…now what?

  Being around her this last month has been agony. Add to that the conversation I overheard and you’ve got the perfect storm, taking my pent up frustration to a whole new level. I’ve been rocking half a chub since I first laid eyes on her. The blue balls I’ve been suffering from since that day are nothing to joke about. My dick’s been begging me to rub one out in Gabriella’s honor, but I won’t do that anymore. Not when the only thing that would satisfy me would be her in the flesh.

  And I swear she wants me too.

  That knowledge is both powerful and scary as hell.

  Boston is a decent size city, with plenty of places to go and no shortage of women. Yet knowing that Gabriella was less than five miles away from me, aching with need and in possession of two untouched vibrators, was too much to handle. In those conditions the city wasn’t big enough for the two of us. I had no choice but to leave.

  I called my friend Ki and jumped on the first train to New York City. He was the first person I met when I moved to the United States and he’s the closest thing I’ve got to family. He knows my history and I know he’d do anything for me. Ki’s life brings complicated to a whole new level, yet in a moment’s notice he dropped everything to help me with my dilemma.

  Which is exactly why we are where we are. Though I gotta say he seems to be enjoying it a touch more than me.

  “Did you see that brunette?” Ki whacks my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “Kind of hard to see much of anything at the moment, mate.” Except for the cantaloupe sized breasts bouncing in front of me that is.

  “Amen to that my friend,” Ki exclaims, enjoying his weekend of freedom.

  Between the two of us Ki’s the one that’s more deserving of a break. He’s taken on responsibilities that I’m ashamed to admit I might not if the roles were reversed. I just wish being here was having the same effect on me.

  Truth be told, this isn’t my type of joint. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging the people who enjoy these places, or the people who work here for that matter. To each their own. But poor Candy, the busty blonde who’s currently working her hardest to ensure I have the most memorable lap dance of my life, isn’t going to get my attention no matter how hard she tries.

  I can’t deny the irony. Candy is doing nothing for me and I’m letting her grind her nearly naked body against me. Gabriella has barely touched me, yet can make me crazy with one look, and I won’t let myself close enough to enjoy it. Right now, with this beautiful woman, all I want is to be able to relish this. I want to work with Gabriella and not struggle with keeping my hands or any other body part to myself.

  I’m losing on all fronts.

  “You have got to get out of your funk.” Ki shakes his head as if I’m letting him down. Last night he took me to one of New York City’s trendiest nightclubs. Beautiful women from all walks of life were everywhere. Hen parties begging for us to join them in their limos and I can’t say I gave any of them a second look. None of them piqued my interest. Evidently disappointed, Ki insisted we take it to the next level tonight.

  “You know what the problem is, don’t you?”

  “Enlighten me,” I tell him, watching Candy straddle me backwards and bend forward to the ground.

  Not a twitch. Nothing.

  “She’s off-limits and you hate being told no. Sure, I bet she’s hot. So is she,” he motions toward Candy. “Yet she’s rubbing herself up and down your Johnson like nobody’s business and you could give two shits. The difference is that Candy’s attainable. This chick at work isn’t. Forbidden fruit and all.”

  He has a point. “That’s great, Ki. Except it doesn’t change a thing.”

  “According to you she’s working overtime trying to build a relationship with you. And you keep pushing her away.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Stop ignoring her. Give her a little attention. Women love the chase…so end it. She’ll back off a little and you can quit playing the cat and mouse game. You’re psyching yourself up, making it into something bigger than it needs to be.”r />
  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “Then you try to get her out of your system another way.”

  I laugh. Getting her out of my system that way is too tempting to consider. The thought had crossed my mind, not that she’d ever be up for that. I can’t exactly suggest it either. Gabriella, so I was thinking, I can’t stop thinking about you. What do you say we screw our brains out and see if it helps? Not to mention she deserves better.

  “Ah shit,” Ki exhales. “You have that look.”

  “What look?”

  “This isn’t just about sex. You like her.”

  “That’s a bit PG for where my head’s at.”

  Ki scoffs. “I mean you care about her. You don’t just want to screw her to get her out of your system; you actually like her.”

  Do I care about her? I’ve come to respect the value Gabriella brings to Jack’s staff, something I didn’t think was possible. She’s smart. Her perspective is typically different than mine and interestingly enough, I appreciate it. But I can respect anyone who’s a good person that works their ass off. Even Candy. I just can’t bring myself to be around Gabriella more than is required, which is too bad because I have a feeling there are more than a few things she could help me with in the professional sense.

  “And how’d you come to that conclusion?”

  “Dude, you wanted to punch a guy for raising his voice to her and then you drove her home.”

  “That’s common courtesy. You’d have done the same and there’s a big difference. I don’t even know her.”

  “Maybe. But I don’t shy away from getting to know people or purposely end relationships, romantic or otherwise, before they start. You’re more screwed than I thought.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Any further dwelling on my part is going to give Ki more ammunition than he needs. I need to snap out of this quickly or I might as well hand over my balls.

  Candy turns to face me. Sitting back on my lap, she takes my hands and places them on her backside. For the life of me I try to enjoy this, even going as far as imagining she’s Gabriella, but her skin and everything about her feels wrong.

  “Loosen up, baby,” she whispers in my ear. “Come in the back with me. Take a lick. I’ll give you a sugar high guaranteed to make you smile.”

  Forget what I thought about respecting Candy.

  Thankfully my phone rings. “Gotta grab that,” I hand her a twenty-dollar bill after removing her from my lap, and send her in Ki’s direction. He’s more than happy to oblige. When she’s occupied, I pull my phone from my pocket and regret it, seriously considering if Candy’s suggestion might work.

  “That her?” Ki asks, referring to Gabriella.

  I’d take that call over this one any day. “No, it’s my father.”

  “You going to talk to him?”

  “No.” I send the call to voicemail. I’m curious about why he keeps calling, only not enough to answer. We have nothing to talk about. He made that perfectly clear the day he gave me an ultimatum.

  Her or him.

  There was no question. I’d never have picked him. Imagine my surprise when the only woman I ever loved didn’t choose me in return.

  “He’s called at least twice a week since I accepted this job,” I tell Ki matter-of-factly.

  “What do you think he wants?”

  “Don’t care.”

  Ki watches me down my drink till it’s nothing more than clinking ice cubes. “Keep telling yourself that.” I chew a piece of ice, feeling his stare still zoned in on me. “Does your father’s calls have anything to do with how you’re treating Gabriella?”

  “How does that make sense?”

  “Because she’s a distraction. Now your father calls, reminding you of why you work so hard. You’ve got your mind set on what you want career wise, you’ll do anything to push said distraction out of your way.” He pats Candy and her friend, kindly telling them to move on, and then turns to face me. “I get your goals are important to you but don’t you think you’ve already proven that you’ve earned everything on your own? You’re a twenty-nine-year-old Vice President. Christ, man. Live a little. Maybe a distraction is just what you need.”

  “Thanks, but since I’m not looking to be unemployed I think I’ll pass.”

  “Unemployed? Shit. That trust fund has been yours for almost five years. Use it. Be your own boss. If you stop trying to prove yourself to everyone else you’d be a hell of a lot more fun.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “Then try being her friend because I don’t see another option.”

  “Friend?” I ask incredulously. “You want me to befriend the woman I want to fuck?”

  “Yup.”

  “You get that I avoid her to prevent myself from doing stupid shit, correct?”

  “Yup.”

  “When was the last time you had a female friend?”

  Ki laughs. “Never.”

  “That’s what I thought.” I shake my head at the absurdity of our conversation. “I can’t believe we’re having a heart-to-heart at a strip club.”

  “Gentleman’s club,” Ki clarifies. “Big difference.”

  Chapter 8

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  “Knock, knock.” Mike stands outside my door holding a white box, wrapped with a purple bow, and two envelopes.

  “What’s this?” I question.

  “No clue. Saw it when I was checking my mail and thought I’d bring it to you.”

  Taking the box, I inspect it for a note or card, some indication of who it’s from. There’s nothing. Curious, I unwrap the bow and tear off the paper. I take a pair of scissors and cut through a layer of tape before finally getting to the prize.

  And what a prize it is!

  “Oh my.”

  Mike leans across my desk to get a look at the spectacle before us. One lone black stiletto and a container of Legg’s pantyhose sits in the middle of the box with a card that reads, “Looking to get a leg up once my foot’s in the door.”

  Mike barks out a laugh. “That’s awesome.”

  “Here then.” I hand him the accompanying resume. “Now you can fill that open position you have.” Taking the shoe out, I turn it from side to side, and check out the brand. I’m not sure what kind of person sends a shoe with their credentials, but if they were smart they’d have sent a name brand and two shoes in the right size.

  Upon further inspection, it’s better there’s just one. “Gross.”

  “What?” Mike looks up from the resume that I seriously think he’s considering.

  “It’s worn. Like really worn,” I turn it over again and cringe. “I think that’s gum stuck to the bottom.”

  “Figures. The resume’s filled with spelling errors and the candidate has no applicable work experience.”

  “Where have all the good candidates gone?” I sigh dramatically. “Last week I interviewed someone and they actually brought their mother with them. Said he valued her input.”

  The corners of his mouth curve upward. “Did you go through with the interview?”

  “Um, no.”

  Mike chuckles. “That’s a shame.”

  I slide my desk drawer open and toss the box inside.

  “Do you still have the signed memorabilia from Kelsey?” Mike asks, peeking into the drawer.

  “I would if you hadn’t kept it.”

  “Did I keep that?” he feigns confusion.

  “We both know you kept that…though I still can’t figure out why.”

  About a year ago, a female candidate sent a hand-written thank you note after her interview with Mike. Somehow during the course of their conversation it came up that he was a sports fan and she had connections. Not only did he get a note, he also received a white double-D bra signed by one of the Boston Bruins. Needless to say, she didn’t get the job. Mike did however keep the autographed lingerie.


  I lean back in my chair and yawn. Mike evaluates me carefully and the smile drops from his face. “You look exhausted.”

  That’s an understatement. Sunday morning my brothers and I convinced my parents that they needed a break and sent them on a mini vacation down on the Cape. With business about to pick up at the restaurant it was now or never. Unfortunately, Vincent’s rotation in the ER changed and Leo and Anthony have been covering at the restaurant. That left me and my uncle to care for my grandmother.

  It’s been eye opening. And to think my parents have been shouldering this burden mostly on their own for the last four years is miraculous. They’re good people…that I already knew. Yes I’m exhausted. Yes I’m likely in over my head. But if this is what they’ve been dealing with then the money it’ll cost for my grandmother to live at Recollections will be worth it because they deserve so much more.

  “Just a few restless night.”

  “What did your parents think of the facility?”

  A warm smile spreads across my face. “Loved it! They agree to accept the slot if the program gets approved.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “It is. Keep your fingers crossed for me that the board loves the program just as much.”

  The phone rings and a London number appears on the screen. “Good afternoon, this is Gabby.”

  “It’s Jack. Got a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” I cover the receiver with my hand and whisper to Mike that I need to take the call.

  “Hey, Jack. What’s going on?”

  I end the call and slink down in my chair, not quite believing what I’ve just been told. It’s happening. Like actually happening. My manager isn’t coming back from maternity leave, meaning her role will be available, and both her and Jack want me to put in for it. Of course there’s no guarantee but their vote has got to mean something.