Jacob didn’t have to guess what that proposition would be. She was his grandmother’s friend, after all, and that woman hadn’t wanted her son involved in any capacity with the running of BCF.
He hung up the phone, satisfied the call had gone exactly as he needed it to, and pushed back in his desk chair, stretching his legs and looking around the room he’d styled just for himself.
The suite at work differed from his home office. There, overstated wealth catered to customers and executives as it had since his grandmother had redesigned it two decades ago. But in his home, here, he catered to himself. A leather couch big enough for him to comfortably lie on rested in the corner against the two farthest walls, and above it hung pictures of friends and graduations mixed in with framed articles written about the bank. Soon he’d have one framed that showed his appointment to CEO, thanks to Sara.
Jacob had known it’d been her. From the second he’d heard Sara’s voice on the conference call, he’d known she was the same woman he’d met at the coffee shop. He should’ve called her out that day in front of his other employees, that way he could’ve had witnesses to her lies. Maybe then he wouldn’t have felt ambushed when he saw her again on Saturday.
Now, three days later, Jacob refused to think about how right it’d felt to have her there. Like a pendejo, he’d initially thought her presence might help him right his world from the tailspin it’d been doing since Elise dropped her bombshell.
Then Sara had started talking.
And lying.
Just like that mujer, Elise.
As soon as she’d used the term asset, he should’ve run from her. Hell, he should’ve run from her long before that. She was a thief. She’d proven it that first day and it’d only been confirmed when he’d gone into his office early Monday morning. He’d been hoping that she’d prove herself to be different instead, but her claims had been refuted as soon as he’d seen his jacket and wallet were nowhere to be found.
But he couldn’t say she hadn’t given him something. Her proposition had provided him what he’d needed to make sure his father paid for his sins.
Revenge had Jacob reaching for the phone again. Sara might be a thief and a liar, but she’d given him the perfect opportunity to prove to Mrs. Everett who should be running the company, and he’d just implemented stage one. He could only hope the answer to his problems with Elise came as clearly and easily.
Jacob shook off the dread that rode him and greeted his father when the man answered the phone. “Are you all set to meet me today?” There wasn’t anything he could do about Elise at the moment, so he sank deeper into his chair, allowing the worn material to conform more comfortably to his body. That might be the only comfort he found in the weeks to come.
“Of course!” His father’s exuberance was palpable even through the phone. “I’ll have my driver swing by and pick you up. It will give us a chance to check out our newest competition too.”
“No need. I don’t have time to make that stop today.” In actuality, Jacob could’ve made time, but he didn’t think he had it in him to be close to his father for more than the few minutes he had to be.
“Son, it’s been open for months and neither of us has visit—”
“I don’t care what Sands Community Bank is doing.” Caring about the hot woman who’d presented this golden opportunity made more sense, and hell if Jacob would be that stupid again.
“You should care since they’re right next door to our highest revenue branch.”
Bullshit. What they should care about was Santa Barbara. The old man had to know by now that his scheme with Elise hadn’t worked, and if so, he likely thought Sara’s proposal would mean they could bypass closing the branch.
Jacob would keep letting him think that. His father had lost the opportunity to have Jacob fight for him anymore. He might be playing into his grandmother’s manipulative hand, but he didn’t care. The woman had seen something in her son that up until now, Jacob had been blinded to. He damn sure wouldn’t feel guilty after what the man had done. Besides, numbers didn’t lie. If Brian Smithsfield couldn’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to do what was best for the bank, then he didn’t deserve to be CEO.
Jacob worked to keep the anger from his voice. “Why don’t you go and check Sands out while I finalize some of the details with Sara’s manager? It will make the trip faster for both of us.” And it would thankfully limit the amount of time they spent together too. He’d never be able to keep up the charade if they spent all afternoon together.
His father agreed. “Sounds good. See you at noon.”
Noon.
That was only three hours away.
Would Jacob be ready by then to sit through a meeting with his asshole of a father and a liar like Sara? He’d survived the last six years by burying his fears under mountains of work, but now BCF wasn’t a safe place for him anymore.
He hung up the phone and traced a finger along the grooves that ran the length of his desk. It was one of the few things he had in his possession given to him from his birth family. It’d been his uncle’s, and Jacob loved the desk as much now as when his grandfather had passed it down to him in high school. Then, he’d thought it cool to have a piece of a man he looked so much alike. Now, he felt an affinity to the furniture itself. His housekeeper kept the old wood buffed to a shine, but it still retained its scars.
Just like me.
9
Lust slammed into Sara so hard she almost lost her footing.
And her mind.
And all just because the CFO stood in front of her. Now that he’d given her a taste of what she’d been missing that day in the park, there wasn’t any doubt that one taste would never be enough.
Slut.
Her body sang the word as if it was praise, even while she mourned the loss of her innocence. After his kiss, how could she not consider forgiving her father? Fantasies of Jacob throwing her on the desk and taking her from behind while customers and his own father watched heated her blood.
She had no clue as to what had happened to make him run so hot-and-cold that day. At first, he’d looked at her like he’d expected her to save him, then his roughness had met her softness in a war of flesh that she still hadn’t recovered from. Yet when he’d left her there, he hadn’t walked away in satisfaction nor had he been chased by demons. Instead, he’d had all of Hell burning behind his eyes.
Now, only boredom poured off of him.
Sara raised her chin a notch and met his unaffected stare head-on.
She could do this, even if Harrison shot daggers into her back with his gaze the entire time.
To say the man had been upset at being excluded from their meeting wasn’t just an understatement; it brought into question her very own sanity. Once Jacob and his father left, she still had to work under him, and not in the fun way she kept picturing with the CFO.
Come on, Sara, think about the Gallos.
In truth, she’d never stopped thinking about the family. Not only did she have the business plan Jacob had requested, but she also had six major donors lined up and a GoFundMe account topping at forty thousand dollars after three days. And that was all without Ray’s help or her having reached out to any local news stations. If Jacob gave his approval, she might be able to give the family everything they needed in record time.
Mr. Smithsfield patted her shoulder. “Let’s head into the conference room. Ready to outline things for us like we planned?”
Hell yeah. And not just because it’d help Sara forget about the man who’d yet to say one word to her. She wanted to do right by the family that needed her.
So what if her rambling nature took hold as soon as they entered the room and she talked for ten minutes straight, barely pausing to breathe? When she was done, both men were smiling, and that was all that mattered.
She chose to ignore the funny little things Jacob’s smile did to her insides.
“I have to say, Sara, I’m impressed with what you’ve accomp
lished.”
Well that made one person, two if she counted herself along with Mr. Smithsfield, since Jacob couldn’t be bothered to say anything.
As if her thought made him finally deem her worthy of talking to, he leaned toward her in his chair. “I agree, Ms. Morrow. You’ve presented a compelling case.”
Would wonders never cease?
For the Gallos’ sake, Sara tried to keep her sarcasm in line. “Does that mean BCF wants to get involved?”
Jacob didn’t answer her in the way she’d expected. Instead, his laughter boomed throughout the small room.
Sara hated the desire that overwhelmed her to ask the question again just to hear the sound.
Luckily, he didn’t give her runaway mouth the chance. “Ms. Morrow, we have a deal. I hope you’re ready for me to be stuck by your side because I’ll be here at least a few days every week until we’re finished.”
Stuck to her side? Sara gulped.
Jesus take the fucking wheel.
What had she done?
Jacob’s father rose, offering a handshake to Sara and a quick chuckle of his own. “Don’t look so scared. His bark is much worse than his bite.”
That might be true, but she’d sure like a firsthand experience to see exactly how bad Jacob’s bite was. Was he a nibbler, or did he use his teeth in wanton abandon?
Before she could respond with anything more than an unintelligible grunt, Mr. Smithsfield went to meet Harrison halfway across the lobby, leaving her to once again contemplate the dangers of being left alone with Mr. Ramírez, and his teeth, and a table big enough to fit the both of them.
Her fantasy didn’t last long.
“Just so we’re clear.” Jacob leaned in, but his tone was the opposite of intimate. “There’s no chance in hell what happened between us this weekend at the park will ever happen again. You’ve gotten what you want from me. I suggest you enjoy it while you can and spend the rest of your time doing your job. I’ll be watching you. See you on Friday.”
“I’ll be watching you”? Well fuck you, too, mister. Sara always did her job.
Jacob strode out of the office without giving her a chance to speak her mind, and Sara gave thanks to the Lord for small favors. Her mouth had already gotten her in trouble with him at the park; she didn’t need to invite more, especially when in addition to telling him off, she also wanted to kiss him again. And damn it all if she felt not one ounce of guilt over the last.
His skill had been inspiring. Orgasm inspiring. Wanting to have another taste of that made her human, right?
Sara watched while Jacob stood next to Harrison and his father. His height had him towering over the other two men, yet it was his entire presence that commanded discipline—and respect—and the total package made her womanhood quiver.
Sara scoffed at the term she’d acquired from reading one too many of her mother’s romance novels as a teen. Her “womanhood” didn’t quiver. Or at least it hadn’t until she’d met Jacob. Now, however, the thing damn nearly screamed.
Oh, holy hell. Jacob’s disinterest should have been more than enough to make her forget about him, yet she still pictured them going at it on her desk. Why did her father’s genes have to come into play now? If Jacob’s plan was to spend most of the next few months by Sara’s side, she needed to figure out a way to not let it show.
But how was she supposed to act like Jacob’s nearness didn’t affect her when everything about the man affected her? He carried his damn intensity around like body armor. And the shadows in his eyes made it worse. She’d thought the first time she’d seen them in the park that they’d been due to whatever drama his ex had caused him, but what she’d witnessed today spelled a heck of a lot more heartache than what one woman could bring about.
What level of betrayal had to happen to make a man like him carry around that much pain?
Friday came and went for Sara—as did the next Monday—but by Wednesday, her hormones were on overdrive. Each day, Jacob hid out in a front office, but his gaze never seemed to cease its constant watch over her movements.
Even Bel noticed his attention. She walked by Sara’s desk and asked, “When are you guys gonna get married and start cranking out those babies, hmm?”
“You’re worse than Sage. Will you please shut up?” Sara hadn’t told her friend, or anyone for that matter, about the kiss she’d shared with Jacob, and she didn’t intend to now that he’d made it clear it’d never be repeated. She didn’t blame him for that—he was her boss, after all—but she hated that he looked at her like she’d done something wrong. Hadn’t she atoned for her mistakes? “He’s probably afraid I’ll run off with the bank’s pens.”
Bel snorted her disagreement. “That isn’t a look of caution. That’s pure want all over his face.”
Yeah right.
Sara knew that to be untrue, but she couldn’t very well explain the unlikeliness of that scenario to Bel.
Thankfully she didn’t have to. Her calendar reminder went off, giving her the perfect opportunity to avoid the conversation and leave Jacob’s watchful stare for the remainder of the day. This late in the afternoon, with traffic, she’d never make it back before the branch closed.
Children’s laughter alerted Sara to the boys’ presence before she saw them.
If they’d been Mr. Shriver instead, she’d have stayed out of obligation—she didn’t stand for the crotchety old man inflicting his evil on anyone other than her when she could help it—but the boys were her delight. She shut down her computer, then went to meet them, eager to hear about their day. They didn’t get a chance to say more than hello. Jacob stepped from his office and started walking toward her. In record time, she gave the kids a brief hug, then darted to the back, opting to leave out that door instead to avoid the man.
She made it halfway to her car before she realized she’d forgotten her purse.
A string of unprofessional curse words filtered through her mind as she made her way back inside. They died a fast death as soon as she entered the lobby.
Mrs. Williams’ two boys giggled as they chased Jacob around, narrowly missing other customers while RJ helped their mother at the teller line. The woman had taken in foster children for fifteen years after attempts to have her own had failed. Four years ago, worried about a life-threatening illness, she’d seen a doctor for her debilitating fatigue and weight gain. She often joked now that the twin boys were her miracles from Hell.
Sara’s stomach did a weird little flip at the sight of the hardened man sharing such easy joy with the pair.
If only she could conquer Jacob so easily.
Stop obsessing over something so inconsequential. The Gallos need all of your attention right now. Sara grabbed her purse and hastened her steps, trying desperately to rid herself of the image of Jacob playing with his own child—a child that in her mind looked an awful lot like her too.
10
Mierda.
Jacob laid his head back on his pillow, fighting for control over his breathing.
That one had been rough. They all were. Yet the nightmare he’d just awoken from left fear seeping into his bones. He’d been in his convoy, like all the others, talking and laughing with his men, but before being ambushed, there’d been a warning. And he still hadn’t been able to do anything to save those under his command. The baby in his arms, his baby, had taken precedence. He’d been given a choice, and a baby born not out of love but deceit had come before his men.
How the hell was he supposed to process that?
Jacob stared at the ceiling as the first hints of daylight streamed through the glass wall of his bedroom. Usually the beauty of it calmed him.
Not today.
It’d been two weeks since he’d kicked Elise out of his life, and they were still playing the waiting game. How long would he be left in limbo?
Depleted from the crash of adrenaline leaving his system, Jacob allowed himself a few more minutes on his mangled bed before pushing off and heading to the shower. As much
as he wanted to cower until he received answers, he had work to do.
His father had thankfully stayed away after their visit to Sara’s branch, but the reprieve wouldn’t last. Already Jacob had fielded three emails from the man regarding the fundraiser. Each one had expressed his father’s profound happiness that Jacob had agreed to look at other avenues for keeping their Santa Barbara branch alive.
If only Brian Smithsfield knew.
Jacob toweled off, dressed, and made it halfway through his breakfast in the open marble-and-glass kitchen before his reprieve ended with a phone call.
“Hi, son. Do you have an update on the fundraiser?”
Jacob tossed the rest of his eggs, no longer hungry, and took his phone into his home study. Just the sound of the old man’s voice sent enough rage coursing through him, his stomach turned against him. Hiding his disgust, Jacob said, “Same as what I emailed you two nights ago. It’s looking like our three-month project might turn into half of that.” And with only Sara participating for the most part. The others did trivial stuff like sending mass letters and being a part of weekend the activities that Sara organized to help promote the event, but the woman treated the project like it was her baby. She didn’t quite trust anyone else to keep it safe.
Jacob had done his fair share, too, though Sara remained unaware of the biggest assistance he’d given. He’d donated funds anonymously not because he cared if anyone found out he’d donated, but because he cared if Sara found out. The thought of Sara getting over on him bothered Jacob more than his father and his ex-girlfriend’s collusion combined.
And fuck all if Jacob didn’t hate the irrationality of that.
Stealing his wallet was nothing in comparison to the life-stealing deception of that pair.
The instigator of that deception cleared his throat several times in a row before asking, “Is that it then? Will we never talk about what happened with Elise?”
Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1) Page 9