Nate’s assistant, Michelle, was at her desk, but I blew past her and pushed his office door open so hard it banged against the wall. His back was to me, and he jumped, knocking a gym bag off the chair in front of him. He must have been putting something in it, because it was unzipped and the contents spilled onto the floor. He grabbed the bag and started frantically shoving everything inside. What the fuck? His smelly gym shorts can’t be that different than— Oh my fucking God. I caught a glimpse of pink lace. I might’ve thought he’d hooked up with some girl at the gym except Nate didn’t go for girls, which meant . . . No way. He didn’t . . .
He zipped the bag and tossed it to the side of the room where it knocked over a stack of papers. I couldn’t stop staring at it. Those were lace panties. Nate’s lace panties? Oh my God.
Finally I tore my gaze away, but Nate was looking out the window, so I glanced around his office, determined I wouldn’t look at the gym bag. Wow. The office was a mess. My father would’ve hated it. I started counting the number of seltzer cans Nate had stacked on a shelf.
Nate turned around and I looked up. He held my gaze as if daring me to mention what I’d seen, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.
Normally I took every chance I could to taunt him, but this time I was too busy trying to understand my own reaction. I couldn’t seem to think—all my blood had rushed to my cock. Another one of the damnable things about Nate was that despite being so unaffected and nerdy and probably wearing pants made of hemp cloth, he was fucking hot. His arms might’ve been the most perfectly formed ones I’d ever seen, and his ass . . . I couldn’t stop thinking of it covered in pink lace. I’d never, not even in my most secret dirty jerk-off fantasies, gotten off on a man wearing lingerie. I didn’t usually like feminine men, much less men in something as ridiculous as manties, but Nate. In fucking pink lace. Holy shit, that was going to be my new favorite thing.
No, no, I was going to block it from my mind, unless it became useful in the near future. It was always good to know someone’s secrets. Someone’s hot, dirty secret.
Now what the fuck was I doing in his office?
Nate cleared his throat. “I’m assuming you’re here about the will,” he said, his tone measured.
My anger came rushing back. “Of course I’m here about the will.” My father had fucked over my entire future by giving half my company to Nate. I certainly wasn’t here to chat with him about the weather.
“I suppose you think you have some ‘solution’ to this ‘problem.’”
If only I could knock the smug look right off his face, if only I didn’t find him so goddamned intriguing. “I know I do.”
“One that involves me backing down on everything I believe in.”
I pretended to consider his words. “Not everything.”
“If we’re going to discuss this, let’s take a walk.” He looked down as he closed a folder that was open on his desk. His blond hair fell over his forehead; his bangs were far too long for his professional status. I bet if he weren’t in an executive position, he’d wear his hair long, put it up in a fucking man bun or one of those little ponytails that might be hot on a guy at a club, but not in the fucking office. No, definitely not. I would have no interest in yanking his hair down and running my hands through it. Fuck no.
“You want us to take a walk?”
“Yes. You know, exercise and take in some of the air I want to make fresher. You do go outside on occasion, right?”
I scowled at him. “When I have to.”
Silently, we walked to Wacker and strolled along the river. Finally Nate said, “I’m assuming you want me to hand over control, run Enviro, and keep my mouth shut?”
Well, he certainly knew me. “Well, I—”
“Or do you just want me to quit altogether, saying I don’t want to take part in owning an evil corporation?”
Could he read my fucking mind? “The first one seems more realistic.”
“Yeah . . . no. That’s not how this is going to go.”
I fisted my hands, fighting the urge not to yell. “It would be easier.”
“For you.”
“For both of us. Do you really want to spend every day arguing with me?”
He sighed. “If that’s what it takes.”
“I won’t back down.” Not even when anxiety has me in a stranglehold. Kingston was all I had, and I wouldn’t lose it.
“I’d much rather try to make a difference than spend so much time arguing,” Nate said. “You could help me do that, Adam. We don’t have to focus all our energy on profit.”
“Yes, we do.” While a part of me wondered what it would be like to ride his energy and enthusiasm, I had to prove my father wrong, show him I could run things my way.
“Don’t you care about anything else?” His words jabbed at me.
“I care about keeping this company going.”
“Don’t you have enough money already?” he shouted.
Wow! I’d actually made Nate Thomas yell in public.
Nate glanced around uneasily. His outburst had turned heads. Someone would recognize me soon or even him. Dad had seen to putting his face out there enough. God knows it’s a face you could sell things with. Fucking gorgeous asshole.
“My father may not have been completely honest with you about the state of things at Kingston.”
“Can’t you wait until he’s been dead a few months before you start in on how terrible he was?”
“Oh, did I forget to look that up in my etiquette guide? Is there a set amount of time to wait before telling it like it is? Some people are fuckers; my dad was one. Being dead doesn’t change that.”
“God, Adam, you really didn’t know him at all.”
“Maybe it’s you who didn’t know him.” Now I was the one who was yelling. I was also contemplating pushing his pious ass in the river.
Nate spun around and started walking back toward Kingston.
“Walk’s over then? Did I get enough of the not-very-fresh air?”
“You’re in no frame of mind to listen to me.” He rubbed at his forehead. Maybe I’d given him a headache. I sure as hell had one.
“And I’m never going to be.”
“Which is why this isn’t going to work.”
“So you’re ready to step down?”
“No, I’m going to fight, but if we can’t come to a compromise, we’ll tear this company apart.”
The fucker was right. If we didn’t get a plan into action soon, things would disintegrate because we were sailing for the edge of the cliff as it was. Nate just didn’t know it. All he knew was Enviro, which was part of why having him in charge of the whole company was absurd.
“Let me know when you’re ready to listen,” Nate said. “But don’t wait too long. The company won’t run itself.”
He stomped off in the direction of Kingston. So much for mild-mannered. The sassy little shit.
You like sassy little shits.
I did, but liking Nate was very inconvenient, so I ignored that thought and celebrated the fact that I’d gotten to him, because sometimes I really was the bastard most people thought I was.
My celebration was short-lived, though. I was going to have to figure out how to work with him. As much as I hated to admit it, Enviro made money and the profits were needed to bolster the rest of the company. Instead of following him back to Kingston, I sat on a bench and wrote him an email, adding links to the encrypted files that would show him just how bad things were. Hopefully after meeting with the lawyers today, Nate had his all-access pass to everything Kingston Corp. My father would’ve made sure the transfer was taken care of swiftly. He wouldn’t want me to be the only one with the keys to the King-dom, especially since he’d never given me full access when he was alive. Shitfaced fucker. Fortunately, hacking had been my teenage deviant behavior of choice. My father had never realized I was privy to all his private dealings.
After I hit Send, I slipped my phone into my pocket and started walking again, awa
y from Kingston. I considered keeping on going, taking a train to the airport, and flying off somewhere. Maybe Kingston was too much trouble and Nate should just have it. But how and where would I start over? Most people would enjoy lying on a beach doing fuck all. I had the money to sustain that lifestyle for quite some time, but I would be restless before a day was up. I didn’t do idle well.
I was, in fact, a control freak, and I needed things done my way, but I’d built Kingston’s Research division into something I was damn proud of. I couldn’t let my father’s stupid investment ruin everything I’d worked for.
I stopped at a hot dog cart and ordered myself a traditional Chicago dog and a Coke. Then I sat on a bench enjoying the fatty meat. Hot dogs were truly one of life’s simple pleasures. I tried to imagine Nate joining me, but he was probably a fucking vegetarian, maybe even a vegan. If so, he didn’t know what he was missing. Surely eating some meat wouldn’t wreck his fucking perfect physique, with his goddamn broad shoulders and arms that strained the sleeves of his dress shirt.
An image of him popped into my head but he wasn’t wearing a suit any more. He was in pink lace panties, all worked up, preaching his make-the-world-better rhetoric while wearing pink lace.
Did he truly wear the scrap of lace I’d seen in his hand? Maybe they belonged to a boyfriend? But my mind refused to believe that and I had to shift on the bench as my cock started to respond to the images in his head.
Think of something else.
Like what?
Anything.
I imagined packing up my office because Kingston had gone under. That did it.
I stuffed the last bite of hot dog in my mouth, stood, and tossed the wrapper in the trash. I believed in keeping Chicago clean, and honestly, I was on board with most of what Nate cared about. I just hated when people were so fucking sanctimonious about their causes, trying to make you feel guilty for every little misstep.
I wasn’t going to back down. I would get my way with Kingston, and Nate would simply have to accept it.
“Why didn’t you tell me how things stood?” Nate demanded.
He’d burst into my office just as I was packing up to head home—or more likely to my favorite bar to get really fucking drunk. “I was going to, but you took exception to me disparaging my poor dead father.”
Nate closed his eyes and exhaled audibly. “I looked through the records to see where you’d found those files. I didn’t see them anywhere. How did you get them?”
“They’re encrypted. Daddy didn’t want anyone to see them.”
“And of course you can break the encryption.”
I smiled. “I can break anything given time.”
“This is serious.”
“Fuck yes, it is. That’s why I—”
“Stop!”
We glared at each other for several moments and time seemed to stretch. Then Nate sighed and stepped back. “There’s no point in continuing to argue. Why don’t I make a plan and you make a plan and we’ll both present them to the board?”
“What, and they’ll pick between us, like it’s a contest?”
Nate shrugged. “Or we can find a compromise.”
Like that was going to happen. What if I agreed to this and then I lost? No, that wasn’t an option. I didn’t lose. Besides, I knew the board way better than he did.
“So if the board likes my proposal best, you’ll go along with it?” I asked.
“How far down the road will this plan get us?”
How evasive could I be? “Far enough to get us out of the hole we’re in.”
Nate considered for a few seconds and then nodded. “Yes, if you’ll agree to the same terms.”
“That I’ll accept your plan if the board does?”
“That’s right.”
How bad of a risk was this? What else could I do? Bend him to my will? Strangle him? I considered the last for a few seconds, staring at his neck at the way it curved, his collarbone, and . . . Oh, fuck. Please let him not have noticed.
When I looked up, he was smirking at me.
Goddamn fuck.
“Yes?” he asked, his tone smug. He had to know how fucking hot he was, though his looks always seemed so unstudied.
Not that I was sympathizing with him or anything. “I agree to your terms.”
“Seriously?”
“Are you suggesting I would be unreasonable about such a thing?” He gave a bitter laugh and turned to leave. He had his messenger bag with him. “Are you going home?”
“Yes.”
“The board meeting’s tomorrow night. How quickly do you think you can come up with a plan to save the company?”
“I’m going out tonight.”
Immediately my brain—the fucking traitor—conjured up an image of him in panties with his legs wrapped around another man. “You . . . have . . .?” My mind had ceased to work.
I hated how easily my thoughts of him could turn from anger to lust. Maybe I should’ve strangled him earlier. I glanced around the office. If I did it now, was there a way to dispose of the body? His gorgeous body that I wanted so badly.
No, I wasn’t supposed to like him, to wonder if he’d focus as intently on a lover as he did on whoever was speaking to him in a meeting. My infatuation with him was getting out of control. My chest tightened and the edges of my vision darkened. Shit! This was no time for a panic attack. I took a long slow breath. I’m okay. I’m okay.
“Are you okay?” he asked. The tenderness in his voice wasn’t making this easier.
“Yes.” I paused for another slow breath. “I’m fine. More than fine since it looks like you’re basically handing this to me.” When in doubt, fall back on being an asshole.
“I already have a plan to give the company a new direction. I created it weeks ago. I just need to tweak it to deal with the current crisis.”
Fucking asshole. I slapped my hand down on my desk. “You knew what my father had planned. You knew he’d give you part ownership.”
“I suspected it, but that doesn’t matter. All you have to do is come up with something better. You’ve still got—” He glanced at his watch. “—twenty-five hours. A genius like you should be able to beat me in half that time.”
“Get the fuck out of my office.” I was never going to think he was too nice again.
He gave me one last smirk and left.
Later that evening, I paced my living room, looking out at the city. How the hell was I going to outdo Nate with my plan to get Kingston out of this mess? I needed a bold plan, something Nate would never attempt.
I needed someone to brainstorm with, so I grabbed the phone and called Valerie. I’d thought it would be best to give her a night on her own since the media was convinced we were having an affair—she kept texting me links to articles with headlines like: Now That She’s Taken, Kingston Wants Her and The Duchess and the King-ston—but I needed her.
“I need to bounce some ideas off you,” I said when she answered.
“What are you up to now?” Valerie asked.
“I’ve got to develop a better plan than Nate’s, a much better plan, one the board members will eat up but which accomplishes most of my goals. See, I can compromise.”
She rolled her eyes. “As long as it’s only with yourself.”
“It’s not my fault I’m always right.”
She laughed. “You really haven’t changed a bit. Should I come over?”
“Yes.” I glanced around at the mess of papers. “No. Oh fuck, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“I’ll be there in less than an hour.”
I hadn’t made any progress when she arrived.
Valerie stepped out of her heels and sighed as she squished her feet into the carpet. “You were babbling earlier. Explain exactly what’s going on.”
“I need a drink first.”
She gave me a simpering smile. “I’ll make tea.”
“A real drink.”
“No, you have work to do, and you need to talk,
or maybe confess is a better word?” She gave me a pointed look.
“I haven’t killed him or even punched him. I’ve thought about it, but . . .”
“I’m sure you have.” She studied me for a few moments. “But I think there’s a little more to your relationship with Nate than you’ve told me.”
“My ‘relationship’ with Nate consists of trying to thwart his attempts to waste Kingston’s funds on projects that are essentially charity.”
“Right.” She might as well have said bullshit.
Did she know? I studied her. I was certain she did, but no way in hell was I making any kind of confession.
She bustled around the kitchen for a few moments, putting water on to boil, pulling tea, a teapot, and cups from a cabinet. How did she know where everything was when I couldn’t find anything myself?
“What kind of tea do you want?” Valerie asked.
“What kinds do I have?”
She turned to look at me. “Are you kidding? You really don’t know?”
“It’s not like I shop for my own groceries.”
“But I assumed you ordered what you liked.”
I shrugged. “I don’t think much about it.”
She shook her head. “We’ll go with Darjeeling. Have you ever even used these cups?”
“I don’t normally sit around sipping tea.”
“Busy with more nefarious pursuits?
“Here’s a confession for you: half the time I sleep at the lab.”
She studied me a few seconds. “That explains it.”
“What?”
“That worn out look you have. People probably mistake it for grief.”
Worn out? She better be joking. Just because I didn’t sleep as much as “experts” thought I should—and had hardly slept at all since my father died and fucked me over—did not mean I’d let myself go.
Lace-Covered Compromise Page 2