Benn flipped her off, tossing his work bag on the floor.
“C’mon Kate’s on her way over, you waiting to vomit it all out until she gets here?”
Way rolled her eyes at him, “Yes Benn, I will vomit it all out when she gets here.”
“Kate’s here,” Kate called out, breathing hard, as she flounced into the room, pushed past Benn and flipped down onto the sofa next to Waverly.
“Muffin, muffin?” She asked, shoving a chocolate muffin up to Way’s lips and waggling her eyebrows.
“Now you shut up Bean, I want to hear this,” she ordered Benn, “Or did you get laid last night by a giant, half horse, half man, last night too?”
Benn frowned at Kate, “Oh God, are you two going to do this like teenage girls, or can you just tell me what happened last night, like rational human beings?”
“Fuck you Bean,” they both shouted at him, laughing and high five-ing each other.
Waverly peeled the muffin from the wrapper and took a giant bite, taunting Benn, “Mmmm, sooo good. Thank you, Kate”
Ben dropped down into the overstuffed chair across from the two of them, “Damn, Way, I brought you a coffee. Both of you, stop calling me Bean. And, shut the fuck up, Kate, I did in fact, get laid last night. Tell me how was Netflix?!”
When Kate hit him in the face with her scarf, Benn wrestled with her to pull it away. Waverly watched, she sometimes wondered if all of the bantering between Benn and Kate was hiding something between them. Something that they had never fessed up to, but, she wasn’t really sure if she really wanted to know the answer.
“Waverly,” Kate called out, waving her hand in her front of her face. “You’ve left the building again. Amazing sex. Spill. Now.”
Waverly sighed leaned her head back and recounted her night with Walker for them. Although she was still processing it, she felt good about it…mostly. It hadn’t gone exactly as she had planned, but, she was done with him now. One and done. Hit it and quit it. It was out of her system and things could go back to the way they were before, except for him being one of their major clients of course. But, even that didn’t mean that she would see him again, WestMat would be working with his company’s marketing team, not him. Problem solved. Hello, successful revenge. In her mind, she had thought it would feel better.
Benn and Kate had listened to the entire story, both of them, suspiciously quiet throughout.
“Well? How did I do? Thoughts?”
Benn jumped out of his chair and started pacing “Jesus Way, I knew this was going to happen!”
Benn’s voice was getting increasingly loud.
“The guy just found you, like, five days ago, after tearing your life apart in a really dick-ish way, and you’re letting him nail and bail you?!”
Waverly frowned.
“Benn!” Kate jumped in admonishing him, “He’s been stalking her since he saw her again. This guy is interested in more than just a nail and bail. You didn’t see the way he looks at her, I think he’s in it for more, you gotta let her play this out the way she wants.”
“Fine,” Benn snapped, “I’m sure he texted you already, right? The morning after text, made sure you got home safe and you’re okay today, all that bullshit?”
Waverly thought she was going to have to hold Kate back from physically assaulting Benn.
Then Kate sneered at him, “Bullshit? That’s what guys who aren’t total douches do, Benn! Tell him Way, show him the afterglow text.”
Waverly looked down at her phone in her hand, held it up to them and sadly shook her head. Nothing.
Dumbfuck, asshole.
CHAPTER TEN
The day after his dinner with Waverly, Walker drove out to his farm, he thought time away from the city would help him stop thinking about things. About her.
When he had seen her at the meeting, he was surprised and intrigued, and very little surprised him anymore. It hadn’t taken longer than watching her presentation to admit to himself, that he was going to do everything in his considerable power to sleep with her again. He had been intrigued by her, by the thought of getting his hands on her again. She had stood up in that meeting, intelligent, sexy and strong. Waverly was a different type of woman then the type he had been with, since...well, the last time he had been with her. It had seemed like a challenge, interesting, but nothing more. Now, that he had been with her, talked with her... Fucked her, he wanted to do it all again, and again. That feeling was new to him, it wasn’t part of his calculated plan, and he was a man who rarely deviated from his plan.
Walker didn’t want any emotional entanglements, with her, or any woman. He didn’t want to need or want anyone, he had been emotionally alone most of his life and he was just fine with that. Friends or family didn’t always equal love, unconditional or otherwise, his family and friends were proof that.
He knew he had much to be thankful for, status, looks, brains. He hadn’t had to live on the streets, so he appreciated the creature comforts of the blue blood life that he had been born into. He just wasn’t sure what it really added to his life, beyond...things. As the coveted son to the Rike family, he was little more than window dressing. Growing up he rarely saw his mother or father, and, sadly, that was very normal for the circle his family moved in.
It was no surprise to him that the women from his own strata were vapid, shallow or vain, it was what they were raised to become. Often, he wondered if he had no interest in any of them because there was nothing interesting or of substance to them. They were all flat, colorless, monotone, like white noise to him. He had no problem using them for sex because he knew they had no real interest in him either, beyond his money or status, and, of course, the power that came with his last name.
So after the thrill of fucking anyone he wanted to, wore off, he made up his mind to distract himself. Worked on the boat he was rebuilding, checked on some side businesses he had started, had a few buddies over, watched some football. Declined propositions from some past hook ups. It didn’t work. He still thought about her a lot. Her hair, her hot body, the way she looked when she wanted to slap him. Finally, he gave up, went out and chopped some wood.
He was a little surprised that she hadn’t called or reached out to him, in his experience, it was what most women did after an encounter with him. It sounded egotistical, but he knew it wasn’t actually him they wanted, it was just a logical path to his money or family name. He knew he should have called or texted her, just to make sure that she had gotten home safely. He had been raised in one of the “best” families in Chicago, the proper decorum for any situation had been drilled into him from the time he had his first nanny.
He was very curious to see what would happen the next time they saw each other. He knew he wanted to see her again and fuck her again, but was it a smart idea? His success with the family business had been the result of hard work, logic, and intelligence, not whimsy, and Waverly was whimsy personified. After three days had passed, his curiosity got the better of him and he returned to the city.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sitting with Ann in his office three days later, going over his weekly agenda, with a large stack contracts needing his signature, to his left, he looked up and caught her watching him intently.
Ann knew him well, she had been a surrogate mom to him for a large part of his life. All business and efficiency, she was a lot like him, a drill sergeant with all of his affairs and smart as a whip. Intimately familiar with his family, her mother had worked for the Rike family for years. Anne had gotten pregnant as a young woman, the father had never been in the picture, Walker had employed her as his assistant when he had first started working for his father and she had moved up through the company with him.
It was the longest personal relationship in his life. Nothing got past her and she wasn’t afraid to call him out on his shit when slutty women showed up at his office, she was polite – but just b
arely. When he was younger and his photo appeared in the society pages of the Trib with stories of his debauchery involving one heiress or another, she circled the photos in red pen and left them lying on his desk. Ballsy – he liked that in her.
“What is it, Ann?” He asked looking up with raised brows at her.
“You worked on the boat this weekend?”
“Yes,” he answered, signing one paper, then reaching for another.
“She’s very different, isn’t she?”
“The boat?”
He wasn’t aware that she knew about his boat.
“No. Miss Matthews?”
Walker was somewhat startled, he wondered how much she knew of that night at Adam’s office. Fuck. That time of his life had given the entire company a lot of fuel for office gossip. Even he had heard stories about himself until he had gotten his shit together and embraced his position of company head, and become a responsible man. As no-nonsense, as he knew Ann to be, she did enjoy office gossip tremendously, especially when he was the center of it. Avoiding her eyes, he looked away, Ann was very perceptive, but there was no way in hell that she knew about the…dinner he shared with Waverly a few days ago. Obtuse, seemed to be the way to handle this.
“Yes, she is different.”
Anne snorted “You did text or call after your…tryst, correct?”
No fucking way. He was a grown man, he answered to no one, except Anne, apparently. Smirking at him through her designer bifocals. How the fuck does she know these things, he wondered, the pen in his hand poised to sign the document she slid in front of him. He briefly thought about stabbing himself to avoid any more conversation with her about this.
“Ann, I’m sure that your unhealthy love of office gossip has made you aware that I have a dick. A dick, not a vagina,” he stressed, “I am not a chick, and this is not a chick party. We will not now, or ever, discuss my relationship with…any woman.”
“So it’s a relationship?”
Unfortunately for him, she was immune to his intimidation tactics. Walker threw the pen across the room, it hit the wall and splintered into pieces - damn, that was an antique.
“Go Ann. Just go. Leave the papers, I’ll go through them all and leave them on your desk,” he replied through gritted teeth.
She smiled sweetly at him and retreated, but not before calling out, “You know nothing, Walker Rike.” Jesus, was her comeback actually a Game of Thrones reference?
An hour later Walker had almost finished signing the entire stack of documents when he began to read through the one in front of him. His hand slammed down on the desk.
“Fuck.”
Slam.
“No fucking way!”
Slam. Slam. Slam.
Ann watched calmly from her desk, as Walker stormed out of his office, straight to the bank of elevators, smacking his hand on the button repeatedly while having a very unhappy conversation with himself. She chuckled, he truly was like a son to her, but he could be such a dumbfuck.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Trying to generate concepts for a couple of new campaigns, Waverly and a few Junior Designers were hard at work in the office war room. This was really her thing, the randomness of her thoughts and her general loopiness, made her particularly gifted at this type of work. All of the younger Creative’s fought tooth and nail for a chance to work on an account with her. Well aware of this, she was very generous with her time, and information, just as Steve had once been with her. It rewarding to her, knowing that she was passing her knowledge along. Her expectations for them were high, and she could be tough on them, just as she had been forced to pay her dues, she expected them to. All of the younger Creatives adored her, her openness, her silliness, her work ethic and particularly, her difficulty maintaining a hard line with them. Both, her office and home were filled with gifts from them, and she cherished each and every one.
This artisan soup account called for a lighthearted, yet warm approach. The idea of yoga had come up, leading them all off track, all four of them were downward dogging it and trying to talk at the same time. The WestMat dress code was casual when participating in day long creative meetings. Waverly was perfecting her downward dog, wearing a tight, but comfy, long sleeved tee with a tank under it, and knee length yoga pants with running shoes. The humidity had made her hair even more wavy and wild, so it was tied it up in a sloppy ponytail, pieces coming loose during her downward dog. Laughing as they tumbled out of their poses, a loud door slam startled them.
Their talking stopped, and all heads swiveled looking questioningly to Way. Through the walls you could hear indistinguishable shouting, whatever was going on, it was rapidly escalating. Going to investigate, it was obvious the altercation was taking place in Benn’s office. Benn was a high energy, animated guy, but he rarely shouted, especially at work. Hurrying down the hall to his office, she found the door shut, after doing the, knock-I’m-coming-in-before-you-even-answer thing, she pushed in.
No. No. No, she groaned inwardly. The two men were so focused on whatever was going down between them that she entered the room unnoticed. Walker Rike and Benn were faced off, Benn stood behind his desk, arms folded across his chest, face red with anger. Across from him stood Walker, a stack of partially crumbled papers held tightly in his fist. The hostility in the room was palpable.
“I’ll sue your ass for breach of contract, and you fucking know that I would win. Does she even know that you’ve done this, or did you go behind her back? Because if she doesn’t know I am going to be the one to tell her and if she does know then...” Walker advanced on Benn, throwing what she assumed was their contract on Benn’s desk.
Waverly wasn’t sure if she was more shocked that Benn had taken it upon himself to try this, or that Walker was capable of losing his temper.
“Listen Asshole, fuck the contract. I don’t care who you sue, we made this company successful once and if you tear it down, Way and I will just do it all over again. Together.” Benn shouted back at him picking up the contract and waving it around.
Waverly watched Walker’s fist clench repeatedly.
Leaning over Benn’s desk, he spat out, “You would love that wouldn’t you? The two of you, hours and hours together, uninterrupted, late nights, having her all to yourself. Does she know that’s your plan.” Directly in front of Benn now, Walker’s voice had lowered to an angry timber, that she had to work to hear.
Benn sputtered, “You’re jealous? You’re jealous that I’ll be spending all of that time with her? You want her?” A smirk of realization lit up Benn’s face, “You really are a dumbfuck. Were you too fucking stupid or just too self-involved to call or text her after...”
“Stop.” Her face flaming, Waverly shouted, both heads swiveled in her direction.
“Benn, what did you do,” she whispered.
Had he really gone behind her back and canceled the contract? Never, had they made even one important business decision without consulting the other, ever.
Benn wouldn’t meet her eyes, too busy glaring at Walker. Was this a pissing contest, would one of them walk over here and raise their leg and pee on her? Okay, that was a disgusting thought, a hysterical giggle bubbled up inside her and she fought to squash it down. Did Benn have so little trust in her decisions, so little trust in her as a person? It hurt, her heart hurt, her eyes watered, she suddenly felt like the little girl who was constantly called stupid by her parents.
Turning her head to look at Walker, his hands rested on his hips, fisted defiantly.
“And you, ruining everything for me once, wasn’t enough?”
His eyes lifted to her face, noticing the quaver in her voice, his lips turned down into a scowl. Walker stepped toward her, one hand reached out.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, stepping back, avoiding his eyes. She would not let him see that he had hurt her. Not this time. The meltdown was coming
, building up, her chest and throat thick with emotion. She would not do this in front of either one of them. She had to get out of there... Go, somewhere else. She ran.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Another text. The fourth one from Walker and a grand total of seven from Benn, who won for the overall length of his text, and probably sincerity too. Waverly sighed, fuck men.
Kate, Rachel, and Brynn had come to support her, with wine. Now pretty wine bottles lined her coffee table in all the essential colors, white, red, blush, and burgundy. Wine for her whine, a whine party. Laying face down on her sofa, Waverly was a bit tipsy, and that was excellent, but more importantly, she had a new perspective on Walker. Rachel summed it all up for her before she left, “Waverly,” she slurred, her lips twisting with effort, “Face it. He’s a douche. The end.”
The voice of John-the-doorman squawking out of her intercom, startled her out of her man hating reverie. With pride, he informed her that he had let her friend, Mr. Rike, in, and Mr. Rike was now on his way up. Waverly panicked, her brain fuzzy from the wine, her legs unsteady, sitting up quickly, her heart beat faster. Waverly tried to convince herself that it was the wine, not the excitement of seeing him again. The memory of him moving inside her, roughly, gripping her hips, then finding the faint handprints the next morning fluttered through her mind.
On shaky legs, she moved to go lock her door, then froze realizing that she was standing in very little clothing. Paralyzed with alcohol induced indecision, she couldn’t figure out what to do first. Too late, her door swung open, Walker stepped into the doorway, the testosterone radiating off of him filling the room.
Standing there, masculine, imposing, his flashing with anger and purpose, focused on her. With the late hour, his jaw had become rough and stubbly, his typically impassive mouth, flattened into an discernible line. Still wearing the same expensive suit he had on earlier, he looked a bit rumpled, yet still rich boy perfect.
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