by Reese Ryan
I’ve barely stepped foot in his room before we’re in each other’s arms. It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve been together like this, his skin against mine. Now that I’ve finally said the words I love you, my feelings suddenly seem more intense. I’m no longer resisting the powerful connection between his heart and mine.
As we kiss, touch, make love, I give myself to him in a way I haven’t before. Every touch conveys meaning. Each caress is an unspoken word.
After we make love, he slips into his boxers and excuses himself. He comes back into the bedroom with a bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Ooh! Decadent!” I swipe one of the delicious treats from the tray when he offers it to me. “What a nice surprise.”
“I thought you’d like them. I got them at the restaurant where I met Bill Naples for drinks after dinner.”
“So how’d the meeting go?”
“It went well. I’ve got some great news. At least, I hope you’ll think it’s great news.”
I pull the sheet around me and draw my knees to my chest. “So, what is it?”
“First, I have to make a confession.”
I freeze, displaying a half-chewed strawberry in my gaping mouth. My eyes are as wide as silver dollars.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” he quickly reassures me.
My shoulders relax.
“I’ve been meeting with potential funding organizations and political leaders here in Cleveland during my visits. That’s how I’ve occupied my time while you were working.” Raine pours a flute of champagne and hands it to me. He pours a second for himself. He slips back under the covers next to me and puts his arm around me.
“Hmm...so exactly how long have these clandestine meetings been going on? And what’s the big secret?” I take a sip from my glass. The bubbles tickle my nose.
Raine takes a sip from his glass then he sets it on the nightstand. “You know Cleveland was the inspiration for Focused for Life.”
I nod and take another sip.
“I’ve always wanted to start an office here in the city that inspired me. I’ve been meeting with community leaders to see how feasible it would be to bring the program here and to see if it would be well-received.”
“I’m sure they jumped at the opportunity to bring Focused for Life here. God knows we need something like it.”
He nods. “They were all eager for us to establish a Chapter here. Especially the councilmen and women serving impoverished neighborhoods. Even some of the suburban mayors I met with saw the benefits of it.”
“You’ve met with local mayors?” I have the feeling Raine Mason will never cease to amaze me.
“I hope you aren’t pissed about me keeping this a secret.” He laughs nervously. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew where the program stood.”
“I’m not angry.” I shake my head. “Just surprised. So what became of your meetings?”
“Everyone supported the idea. Several people referred me to possible funding sources. Two of the leads panned out. Myra, my funding manager, was able to come up with a few more. Bottom line—we now have enough to open an office here in Cleveland and finance the program for the first five years.”
“Oh my God!” I put my glass on the nightstand then hug and kiss him. “How could I not be happy about this? This is fantastic news!”
“I know you said you love me today.” He takes my hand in his. “But I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me moving here full-time. It’s easier to love someone from a safe distance.”
“It’s easier to adore someone when you don’t have to deal with his idiosyncrasies and dirty socks,” I say, smiling. “But you can’t truly love someone without having intimate knowledge of each other, in a way no one else does. That’s what I want for us. Do you think we can have that?”
“I’d love that.”
“Good. Then that’s settled,” I say. “There’s only one thing more for us to discuss before we get to my favorite part of the evening—Round Two.”
Raine laughs. “Then by all means, ask away.”
“When’re you moving here, and have you decided where you’ll stay? Because if you haven’t made any plans, I have this huge bed that I only use half of and a master bathroom with two sinks, yet I only use one. And I have this fantastic view of downtown Cleveland, but the truth is, I don’t get to take advantage of it nearly enough...”
“Wait...” He presses a hand, fingers splayed, to his chest. A tentative smile slowly lights up his face. “You’re...asking me to move in with you?”
“Effective immediately. Mi casa es su casa.”
Raine squeezes my hand. “I’d love to wake up to your gorgeous face every morning. But are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Yes.” My hands shake a little as I raise the glass to my mouth again. “I am.”
“The last thing I wanna do is scare you off with too much too soon. And the money, as you know, isn’t an issue. I can rent a condo if you’d rather have your own space.”
“I like my space just fine with you in it,” I say. And I mean it. I’m not saying it because I think I should. I’m inviting Raine to share my home, my love and my life because I know that each of these things will be better with him in them. “But if it’s too much too soon for you, I completely understand.”
A relieved smile spreads across his face. He clutches me tightly. “Then I accept your offer,” he says. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me.” I pull back and wink at him. “You’ll be paying half the mortgage.”
Raine laughs. “I think I can handle that.”
“Now that we’ve got that settled,” I say in my best sultry, sex siren imitation, “I believe there was talk of Round Two.” I drop the sheet, revealing the upper half of my unclothed body. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your new roommate, now would you?”
Raine laughs and pulls me toward him. “Of course not. I’m a man of my word.”
We spend the night at his hotel. There is very little sleeping involved.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I am completely fucked. And not in a good way.
I float into my office on Monday morning in a hazy, post-coital glow. The muscles of my face literally hurt from twelve hours of grinning like a lovesick idiot. “Good morning!” I practically sing as I hang my coat on the rack. “I had the most amazing weekend.”
I look over at Leslie when she doesn’t respond. She nods a greeting. Her eyes narrow and her lips press into a tight smile.
“What’s wrong?”
She nods toward the conference room then whispers, “Mr. Jasper and Ms. Fisher are here.”
My hands suddenly feel clammy and my shoulders are tight. I glance down the hall. “Damien and Jane are here? Now?”
She nods fervently as she approaches me. “They arrived when I did this morning. Thank goodness I was a half hour early.” Her voice is barely audible. “I tried to call you, but your phone went straight to voice mail.”
“Damn!” I pull my phone out of my purse and turn it back on. “What kind of mood were they in?”
“They were pleasant enough, but they seemed a bit uptight.”
“That would describe Damien on the best day of his life,” I say in a hushed tone. “Still, there’s no way they’d hop a plane to Cleveland three weeks before Christmas if it wasn’t something major.” I hand Leslie my bag and purse and run my fingers through my hair. Taking a deep breath, I straighten my skirt, which twisted itself halfway around on the walk to work. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” Leslie says as we both stare down the hall.
“Good luck with what?” Priscilla puts down her Louis Vuitton briefcase and hangs her coat.
“Damien and Jane are here i
n the conference room.” I nod in the direction of the room, where I fear my role as branch manager will end as quickly as it began.
Priscilla is far less surprised by the news of Damien and Jane’s unannounced visit. “Excellent! I have something I’ve been meaning to give him.” A smirk is perched on her collagen-filled lips. She heads down the hall to her office then calls over her shoulder, “Good luck, Gordon!” Under her breath she adds, “You’re gonna need it.”
Leslie elbows me in my side so hard I think she just bruised a rib. “I told you not to trust her. That heifer has something to do with this. I guarantee you.”
“Let’s not get bent out of shape until we know exactly what this is about.” I feign confidence, despite the fact that I feel beads of sweat trickling down my armpits. I glance toward Priscilla’s door, fists clenched at my side, jaw trembling. It would be worth losing my job to take off my earrings and give that scheming, plasticized little bitch an ass-whipping she will never, ever forget.
Leslie puts a hand on my arm. “Forget about her right now. Just take a nice, deep breath.”
I nod and force a grateful smile. As I walk down the hall, my path is more of a zigzag than a straight line. I inhale deeply, then turn the conference room doorknob. “Damien, Jane.” My ear-to-ear grin is Joker-worthy. “This is a pleasant surprise. What brings you to the Great Lakes branch?”
Damien rises from his seat, offers a terse greeting and shakes my hand. Jane follows suit.
“Please, have a seat, Ms. Gordon.” Damien indicates the seat directly across from him. I sit, and so does he. “I wish this visit wasn’t prompted by a crisis of potentially substantial magnitude.”
My eyes widen and my mouth falls open. I lick my lips and clench my trembling hands in my lap. “What crisis? Things are going well here. As my weekly reports indicate, we’re well ahead of our projected growth.”
“Yes, yes.” Damien waves his hand dismissively. “Your numbers have been quite impressive. But I’m far more concerned with the impact your personal activities and lifestyle may have on the reputation of Jasper & Graevel.”
“How are my personal activities and lifestyle negatively impacting the reputation of Jasper & Graevel?” I clench my fists beneath the table. “Seventy percent of my waking hours—and twenty percent of my sleep—is committed to reaching those impressive numbers.”
“And we do appreciate that,” Jane interjects. “But we’re concerned that your new associate may cause problems for you and for us.”
“My new associate? Leslie?”
“No, we’re referring to your new beau,” Damien says in a sardonic tone, the edges of his mouth downturned. His cool stare sends a chill down my spine.
I take a deep breath and sit tall in my chair, lengthening my spine. Arms folded on the table, I look Damien squarely in the eye. “You’re referring to my boyfriend, Raine Mason, I suppose.” He nods. “Raine doesn’t work for J&G,” I say sharply, chin lifted. “I do. My personal life is my business.”
“Not when it has the potential to impact ours.” Damien places his hands on the table, pushing his shoulders practically up to his ears.
It feels like Damien and I are staring each other down at the O.K. Corral. I take a deep breath. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Are you telling me that J&G expects me not to have a personal life?”
“Of course not.” For a moment there’s a softness in Damien’s eyes, like a father dealing with his wayward daughter. “But you do realize—pardon my language—that the Montgomery family is a tabloid reporter’s wet dream,” he says. “Do you honestly think you can cavort with one of them and not end up splashed across those rags?”
Sighing, I think of Daniel Delveccio, the slimy reporter from Celebrity Life. I spent the days after his visit holding my breath and hoping I wouldn’t make the news. When several days passed, seemingly without incident, I figured I’d dodged the bullet. At least for now.
“How do you know about Raine?” I ask, my eyebrows furrowed. “Are you investigating me?”
“We haven’t been investigating you,” Damien says pointedly. “But someone has.” He shoves a copy of the photos Delveccio snapped across the table, a perturbed look on his face. “These photos were taken right here in the J&G office.”
“How’d you get these?” I cringe and turn the pictures facedown.
“Good morning, Damien. Good morning, Jane.” Priscilla bounces into the room. “So glad you both were able to make it.”
“We’re in a private meeting right now, Ms. Cohen,” Damien says, teeth clenched, jaw tight. “We’ll speak with you later.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Priscilla covers her mouth and bats her eyes, in mock remorse. “But since I’m here, I didn’t want to forget to give you this.” Priscilla rummages in the pocket of her Aquilano Rimondi shift dress and pulls out the Mont Blanc pen Damien gave me. The one I’ve been looking for for the past few weeks. She leans across the table and hands it to him.
“My pen!” I say. “You took it.” Bitch!
“You mean the three-hundred-dollar pen you helped yourself to.” Priscilla crosses her arms, looking self-satisfied.
“I gave Ms. Gordon that pen as a gift on the day of her promotion.” The lines etched between Damien’s brows deepen. “Quite frankly, I never wanted to see the damned thing again. It was a gift from my ex-wife.”
Priscilla’s face flushes. Genuine embarrassment? That’s something I didn’t think her capable of. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It cost me three million dollars, plus alimony, to get rid of that woman.” He shudders, handing the pen to me again. “She, and that damned pen, keep turning up again like a bad penny.”
Jane and I shift uncomfortably in our chairs. Discovering that Damien Jasper is, in fact, human is a little disconcerting.
“Like I said, it was my mistake,” she says. “I was only trying to help.”
“Were you?” Jane leans forward, her eyes narrowing. “Is that why you sent us these photos? Or was it because you’re bent on sabotaging Melanie?”
“You sent these?” I stare at Priscilla, barely able to get the words out without choking on them. “How’d you get them? You weren’t even here when Delveccio came to the office.”
“Perhaps I can answer that.” Damien scrolls through his cell phone. “It was you who tipped the reporter off about Ms. Gordon’s involvement with Mr. Montgomery.” The muscles of Damien’s face are tight. His nostrils are flared. His tone is biting.
“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smidgen of color Priscilla has drains from her face. Her breathing is more rapid. “Why would I do something like that?”
“Cut the act.” Jane jabs her finger in Priscilla’s direction. “Your blind ambition caused you to jeopardize not only Melanie’s career, but the interests of this firm.”
“Why do you think it was me who talked to that reporter?” Priscilla tucks her hair behind her ear. “Anyone could look at that photo in her office and see that her boyfriend was really Beau Montgomery.”
“Mr. Delveccio has named you as the source of a story in which he’s no longer interested.” Damien turns the phone to face her.
Priscilla’s eyes move back and forth quickly as she scans the email. She drops down in the nearest chair, her hand to her forehead.
The room is quiet as Damien and Jane patiently await her response. My jaw is clenched. The sound of my raging heartbeat pounds in my ears. I could kill Priscilla. Literally. With my bare hands.
She clears her throat and straightens her back against the chair. “It would only have been a matter of time before some reporter showed up at our door. I figured it would be better if we could control the timing. Like a controlled forest fire.”
“You sent me these photos to warn me of a situation that could be damaging to the reputation of
our firm,” Damien says. “But it’s you who put the reputation of this firm at risk.”
“I know this doesn’t look good right now,” Priscilla says, “but there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Sure, Jasper & Graevel would’ve been mentioned in the article, but only in a positive light. And it would’ve been incidental to the larger story—the discovery of Beau Montgomery. So what would’ve been the harm, really?”
Damien, whom I’d thought incapable of demonstrating any emotion beyond annoyance and mild displeasure, looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel. “Ms. Cohen, your services are no longer required here at Jasper & Graevel.” Damien spits the words out. Then he takes a deep breath and his voice returns to its normal steadiness. “Jane will go with you while you pack your things here. Don’t worry about packing your desk in San Francisco. Your things will be boxed and shipped to you.”
Jane, his tiny enforcer, hurries out of her seat and stands by the door, her arms folded and jaw set.
“You’re firing me over this?” Priscilla says with the outrage and disbelief of a woman who’s been wrongly accused of a crime. “I’ve been an invaluable asset to Jasper & Graevel for the past four years. Do you have any idea how much money I’ve made for you?”
“I do.” Damien nods. “I also know that you’ve been a divisive factor for as many years as you’ve been here. You’ve put this firm’s good name in jeopardy. And apparently you nearly killed Ms. Gordon by causing her to have a severe allergic reaction.”
“You did make me sick that day!” I stand, leaning against the table. “Why? So you could take my meeting with the Crushers?”
“Would you have allowed me to start meeting with your precious clients otherwise?” Priscilla rises to her feet, her arms crossed. She stares at me as if this entire ordeal is my fault. “Besides, it’s not like you were going to die or anything. I gave you Benadryl, didn’t I?”
I now know how bulls feel when they face a matador in the ring. The room is drenched in a shock of red. My hands are drawn like magnets to her scrawny bird neck. I want to pounce on Priscilla like a jungle cat and slam her head on the table repeatedly.