Brigit treated herself to a glass of Cab and then another, but that was nothing compared to what Vanessa tossed back. Even Chad, seated across from Vanessa, told her to ease up.
“Vanessa, how about we review your portfolio sometime soon?” Brigit asked.
“Nope, I’m good,” said Vanessa.
After dinner, Colton tapped his water goblet. “Can I have your attention, please? I’d like to welcome our newest Mitus Conglomerate employee, Brigit Farnay.”
The cadre stared in her direction. Nothing like being the center of unwanted attention. She gave a little wave to the group.
“Please make Brigit feel welcome,” Colton said. “Living with coworkers is new. Keep in mind your own challenges when you moved in.” He glanced in Ryan’s direction. “Ryan, I still don’t know how Taylor survived with you as her mentor, but fortunately for us all, she did.”
A beaming Taylor raised her glass. “Here’s to Brigit.”
A glassy-eyed Vanessa toasted Brigit. “That’s the best seat at the table,” she whispered. “And it used to be mine. If I were you, little Brigit, I wouldn’t get too comfortable in that chair. Permanence at Mitus Conglomerate is a fucking illusion.”
23
Vanessa’s Warning
Workaholic Brigit Farnay had spent the first few days hunkered down in her office. By ten thirty Wednesday evening the numbers on her computer screen blurred together. Enough. She pushed out of her desk chair and tugged open the French doors in her office. Ah, fresh air.
As she stepped outside, she triggered the automatic patio light. A sudden wind gust blew her hair as the leaves rustled in the tall oaks bordering the property. She glanced into the darkened backyard and a shiver ran through her. Could someone be lurking nearby, watching?
Ever since the vengeful intruder had tornadoed through her home, she’d been overly jumpy. Only one person harbored that much wrath. Up until Saturday, she’d assumed Vinny Ray was behind bars. The Pennsylvania D.A.’s office hadn’t returned her call and she was not calling the prison directly.
“Hey, there,” said a voice behind her.
Squealing, Brigit whirled around as the hair on the back of her neck prickled.
“Easy there.” Vanessa loomed in her doorway, wine bottle in one hand, crystal glass in the other. “You’ve been nose to the grindstone since you got here. Can I tempt you?”
Even though Brigit’s mouth watered, she didn’t want to encourage Vanessa to stay. “No thanks. I’m headed upstairs.”
That evening Colton had been absent at dinner. Had he tasked Vanessa with babysitting the newbie? Brigit walked past her, bolted the French door and retreated to her desk to shut down.
Rather than leaving, Vanessa meandered over. Seemingly preoccupied, she dragged her manicured finger along the border of Brigit’s desk, then shifted her attention to Brigit. “How are you settling in?”
“Pretty well.”
Vanessa filled the glass and slid it over to Brigit. “I’m here to help. You know, put things in perspective.”
Not interested. “I’m good.”
“I’ve known Colton for a long time. He needs variety to quench his sexual thirst and he does what he pleases, in all things.” Vanessa gaveled the wine bottle on Brigit’s desk. “I hope you don’t think your intimacy meant anything to him. It didn’t and that can be a hard pill to swallow.”
Holy hell.
How did Vanessa know she’d had sex with Colton? Muscles traversing her shoulders turned to stone. “I don’t think—”
“It’s okay.” Vanessa made herself comfortable in the chair across from Brigit’s desk. “Colton is a complicated man with unusual needs.”
What does that mean?
Leaning back, Vanessa crossed her legs.
That is one short skirt and two powerful thighs. “I’m not comfortable talking about him, but thanks for the heads-up.” Brigit walked around her desk hoping Vanessa would take the hint and leave.
“He’ll discard you when he grows restless, and I can assure you, he will. Take tonight, for example. He’s doing something so kinky you’d blush at the thought, if you didn’t need someone to explain it to you first.” Laughing, Vanessa threw back her head. Brigit cringed. “If I didn’t know him as intimately as I do, I’d say he was a scoundrel. But I know better.” Vanessa shrugged. “Colton’s just being Colton.”
Did her super sexy client have a dark side? Though curious, Brigit would stay clear of office politics and gossip, especially where it involved Colton. “My only concern is his wealth. Perhaps he’s at a business function.”
Vanessa rose and, looking down her nose, pinned Brigit with a cold stare. “It’s hump night, you fool.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Brigit detected movement. Colton filled her doorway, clad in his black cashmere coat. Her heart skipped a beat. But tonight, his brooding expression and mussed hair overshadowed his striking looks. Even still, her fingers ached to tame his locks. Are you windblown or did someone unleash her hands in all those waves?
As he strolled into her office, his dark expression lifted. “Vanessa, thanks for going the extra mile to ensure Brigit feels the Mitus welcome.”
Oh, I felt it all right.
“Anything for the team.” Vanessa’s condescending tone had been replaced with a submissive purr. “You, of all people, know that.”
The scent of expensive perfume wafted from his direction, the flowery fragrance reminding her of Vanessa’s comment. He’s doing something so kinky you’d blush at the thought.
“You two having a little nightcap?” he asked.
“No, Brigit’s drinking alone,” Vanessa said. “Loved our girl talk, Brig. Keep it in mind and remember, I’m happy to help anytime.” She walked toward the door and called over her shoulder, “Night, Colton.”
Brigit was too stunned to speak.
As Colton shrugged off his coat, he couldn’t take his eyes off Brigit. Her beauty left him breathless. He hungered to take her into his arms and into his bed. Too damn bad, Mitus. A deal is a deal.
He’d had one of the worst fucking evenings of his life. After dinner with his mom, which he did most Wednesdays, she’d confided that she’d not been well. A recent imaging scan had revealed a brain tumor. With surgery scheduled, Kimberly Mitus had already arranged for post-surgery nursing care. Colton’s brain had short-circuited. She sounded like she was rattling off the amenities of a luxury home, but this was not a real estate transaction and he was not her client. He’d insisted on being by her side every step of the way. She would not endure this horrific ordeal alone.
Raking his hands through his hair, Colton shoved away the pain and anger. “I’m flying out of town tomorrow morning to do damage control.”
“I’ll push to complete my financial analysis and recommendations and email my report over,” Brigit said. “You can review on your return flight.”
Colton stepped close. “You’ll be joining me.”
She gripped her hips. “No can do.”
He couldn’t help but smile. He detested resistance, but for some inexplicable reason, Brigit’s pushback amused him. “We have an eight a.m. flight. Be downstairs, ready to go, by five forty-five.”
Her big green eyes popped. “You can’t boss me around like that.”
His cock moved. She was so damned hot when she got feisty. Watch me. “I can and I am. We’ll prep on the way to the airport.”
As if she’d gotten an unexpected chill, she hugged herself, then rubbed her arms. “Fine. Where are we going?”
He lifted the wine glass and took a hearty sip. “The Francesco Company.”
24
Hello, Mrs. Mic
Brigit tossed and turned all night. Not since the death of her parents had she set foot in the building that had once been her second home. And she was about to waltz through the doors of the Francesco Company with the very man who’d taken it from her. Not as his adversary, but as his ally.
Though she’d racked her brain for an exc
use to keep her from flying to Ohio, she’d come up with nothing ironclad. Grunting her frustration, she sat up. Oh-dark-thirty. Brigit dragged herself out of bed.
As the hot shower pounded her awake, she ruminated on Vanessa’s warning. Colton is a complicated man with unusual needs. And what was it about that man that made statements like those so intriguing? She dressed in her favorite black suit and black heels, then returned to the bathroom to make up.
Brigit had been close to Marjorie McAllister, Francesco’s COO. Had she changed enough to fool Mrs. Mic or would she see right through her mask of deceit? Trembling, she smeared mascara across her brow. Dammit! Get it together. After wiping the smudge, she plumped her lashes with the black wand.
Ready early, she headed downstairs to find the sleepy-eyed group drinking coffee. Red and Dez sat at the kitchen table while Colton thumbed his phone at the center island.
“Good morning,” Brigit said. “I hope you weren’t waiting for me.”
“No, you’re fine,” Dez replied.
“Ugh.” Red sipped her coffee. “I’m going to need a three o’clock caffeine hit, big time.”
“Morning, Brigit,” Colton said.
Even at this godforsaken hour, Colton looked phenomenal. Dark olive suit paired with a burgundy tie and white dress shirt. And he’d styled his hair out of his eyes, giving her a clear line of sight to his handsome face.
“Colton, I discovered several Mitus investments that haven’t been managed in years.” She stood near him at the island and inhaled his delicious scent. “There’s a sizable amount of money wrapped up in those positions. I’ll stay behind and work on that today.”
“No. You can slide your deliverable to Friday.”
Damn. There was no escaping Francesco.
Colton’s phone buzzed. “Chad’s out front.”
In silence, they trudged outside to the waiting Bentley. Dez rode shotgun, while Red slunk into the back, behind Chad.
“After you,” Colton said.
“Why don’t you sit in the middle?” Brigit slid inside and scooted over.
“In that tiny space?” He got in and slammed the door.
That seat worked just fine the last time we were in this car. She glanced in his direction and he waggled his brows. Pursing her lips to keep from smiling, she buckled in.
As the giant gates swung open, Brigit sucked down a nervous breath. Leaving the compound made her very, very uneasy. In the pre-dawn hour, the eerie quiet sent a shiver down her spine. Chad waited for a few cars to pass, then pulled onto the road. If someone was lurking in the shadows, she didn’t see him. Brigit glanced out the rear view window. The Bentley traveled alone on the darkened road. Deep breath. No one even knows I’m in this car.
“Yesterday, MobiCom’s entourage toured Francesco,” Colton said. “Bob Dobb, Francesco’s CEO, claimed they showed up unannounced.”
“Yeah, right,” Dez said. “A pop-in from Northern Virginia to Columbus, Ohio.”
“Did they visit the factory?” Brigit asked.
“Yes.” Colton shifted in the seat and his leg pressed against hers.
His massive thigh stimulated her in the most scrumptious of ways. Even though she desperately craved his touch, she had to fight those feelings. Move away. While she should have repositioned herself so they weren’t touching, she didn’t. As casually as possible, she peeked at him. Dark eyes full of lust and power stared back. If his intensity could have devoured her, she’d have been eaten alive, right then and there. She couldn’t look away.
“Sounds like they’re taking stock. Positioning to make an offer,” Dez said. “This is classic acquisition.”
“And deceptive,” Red said. “What are your expectations today?”
Silence.
“Colton?” Red asked.
Colton blinked, then refocused on Red. “What did you say?”
“Goals? Expectations?” Red asked.
“Get through the day unscathed,” Brigit murmured under her breath.
“Sounds good to me.” Red shifted her attention out the window. “I need a double shot of espresso.”
Colton shifted his attention back to Brigit. No, more like he feasted on her with his eyes, digesting every pore, every fine line, every imperfection. If staring at that man could be classified as a drug, she was a full-blown junkie. His face was perfect in every way.
“We need to determine if leadership and board members are for or against the acquisition,” Colton said. “No snitch would fess up, but someone might slip. Francesco is anxiously awaiting my no-interest loan. Based on Brigit’s projections, they’ll have the funds next week.”
After Chad pulled up to valet parking at Dulles International Airport, the five piled into a waiting van.
“Where are we going?” Brigit asked.
“Charter flights,” Red replied.
The driver parked in front of a small building at the far end of the airport. They got out and waited while Colton and Chad spoke with the clerk. She smiled too big and batted her eyelashes too many times. Brigit wanted to laugh. Did the men even notice?
“The craft is ready,” Chad said.
“Where’s the pilot?” Brigit asked as they walked toward the Beech King Air 350 turboprop.
“You’re looking at him,” Colton said.
“You?”
“He’s good,” Dez said. “It’s his maverick copilot I worry about.”
Spinning around, Chad grinned.
“This isn’t your first flight, is it?” Brigit asked climbing up the short flight into the belly of the plane.
“Nah, it’s my second.” Chad winked.
Brigit sank into the plush leather seat across from Dez and Red while Colton and Chad readied the plane for departure. After belting herself, she leaned over to observe them in the cockpit.
With his headset on, Colton said, “Dulles ground, Beech King Bravo five-three-zero Bravo Whiskey requesting to taxi to the active runway for a departure to the north.”
After a pregnant pause, he continued. “Dulles ground, Beech King zero Bravo Whiskey taxiing to runway one-niner.”
As the aircraft taxied to the runway, Brigit gripped the armrests. After six long years, she was finally going home.
“Dulles tower, Beech King Bravo five-three-zero Bravo Whiskey holding short of runway one-niner, ready for take off,” Colton said.
Chad got busy fine-tuning knobs.
“Dulles tower, Beech King zero Bravo Whiskey cleared for takeoff, runway one-niner,” Colton said.
The aircraft rolled forward and as they gained speed, Brigit watched out the window.
“Wheels up, baby!” Chad said as they went airborne.
Dez chuckled. “Peter Pan is flying.”
Brigit spent much of the flight in the airplane lavatory. Shattered nerves had jumbled her insides. Returning to her beloved company was affecting her more than she’d expected. They landed and disembarked. Brigit ushered them through Port Columbus airport and into the waiting sedan.
“You have a great sense of direction,” Red said. “Airports overwhelm me, but you walked through that place like you owned it.”
Brigit shrugged. “Stocks, bonds and airport navigation.”
Mrs. Mic had sent a driver. When he turned down the familiar street, Brigit’s chest tightened. The three-story building with THE FRANCESCO COMPANY emblazoned across the facade turned her insides to jelly. I will not cry. I will not cry.
As they tumbled out of the vehicle, a lump formed in her throat. Her life had changed so much since she was last there. Panic crept in. What if Marjorie recognized her and blamed her for not fighting to keep the company? Under the horrific circumstances, she’d done the best she could.
Colton opened the front door and waited while Red and Dez shuffled through.
Tears filled Brigit’s eyes, but the blustery day whisked away the emotion as she approached the building entrance. With a racing heart, she silently recited the familiar poem, hoping to settle her nerves. Will y
ou walk into my parlour? said the Spider to the Fly. ’Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy.
“Thank you.” She walked past Colton and into the lobby.
He stopped her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her gaze skirted across the familiar space. They were on her home turf, yet she was a stranger to everything she held most dear.
Hooking a gentle finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face toward his. “I need you or I wouldn’t have asked you to join me.”
She stared into his eyes. “I won’t let you down, and if I recall, there was no asking involved.”
“Colton,” called a familiar voice.
Marjorie McAllister ambled toward them, a cigarette tucked behind her ear. She’d not aged much since Brigit had last seen her. Maybe she’d gained a few more pounds and her short hair sported more grays. With a pounding heartbeat, Brigit cleared her throat and stood tall. This has got to work.
Marjorie hugged Colton, then patted his back. “You look good, old man.”
Colton laughed. “Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Marjorie said. “You’ve aged a damn decade since I last saw you.”
Colton reintroduced Dez, Red and Chad.
As Marjorie pivoted, Brigit’s heart lurched into her throat. “So, is this your hotshot money lady?” Mrs. Mic thrust out her hand. “Marjorie McAllister. I expect nothing less than a miracle from you, young lady.”
Bracing for the recognition, she shook her hand. “Brigit Farnay. I’ll put in a special order, just for you.”
Marjorie laughed, the gravelly sound reminding Brigit of the many lectures her mother had had with her about the dangers of smoking. She wished her mom were there now to pluck the cigarette from behind Marjorie’s ear and throw it away. A scene Brigit had witnessed hundreds of times. Marjorie removed the cigarette and tapped it on her palm, but her gaze remained fixed on Brigit.
Does she recognize me?
THE MITUS TOUCH: Book One of The Touch Series Page 14