Having Fun with Mr. Wrong

by Celia T. Franklin

  “I take it you enjoyed the spa?”

  “It was fabulous. Nothing like getting the five-star treatment before I even started the job. Thank you for your generosity.”

  He motioned to the bartender. “What’s your poison?” he asked Carmala.

  “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  The bartender stood in front of them. “Mr. Maddox?”

  “This lovely lady is Carmala Rosa. Carmala, this is Brad. Carmala will be assisting us at the office for the next week, so I’d like you to take care of her whenever she comes to the bar.”

  “No problem, Mr. Maddox. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Rosa.” Brad nodded her way. “I hope to help make your stay a pleasurable one.”

  “We’ll have two manhattans, straight up please.” Michael turned to Carmala. “Might as well celebrate New York’s finest beverage with New York’s finest!”

  “Here, here!”

  She stared at the amazing glass aquarium that formed the bar beneath her, bedazzled by the swimming fish, seahorses, and displays of coral reef. “I can see that no expense is spared here.”

  The bar had a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the beach. She admired the view of burnt orange hues of the still setting sun glistening over the ocean.

  “That is precisely my objective.”

  His voice danced with promises, and his manner surprised her. Could he be flirting with her?

  With his handsome smile, those sparkling pools of coal black eyes, and that full head of amazing salt-and-pepper hair, he brought a new definition of hot for a man in his forties. She could get lost in his gaze—it was captivating and entrancing.

  She had to get a hold of herself. It was a business meeting. Nothing else. She peered at her manhattan, alarmed she’d already drained it. He ordered another one before she could protest.

  “Mr. Maddox, we should probably get down to business. I’ve done a lot of research—”

  “Oh no, you don’t. I insist you call me Michael.”

  Her heart fluttered again. How would she maintain her composure?

  “Okay, Michael, I’m anxious to share some schematics with you. I’ve brought my paperwork.” She opened her presentation portfolio. She didn’t need it, she had all the material memorized. But she didn’t trust her memory. Fortunately, the bartender placed a glass of water in front of her, along with her second manhattan. She took a long sip of the water, intent on keeping as sober as possible. “You’re currently looking to expand your business into a polo training school. I assume you’ll build it adjacent to your polo training grounds.”

  She noticed his arched eyebrow and didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re seeking one-point-five million dollars in backing. I think we can get this money with a small group of private investors. Have you considered commercial financing?”

  “I’m using a significant portion of my personal capital. I’m not interested in seeing the profits dwindle with interest payments.”

  “Yes, but all borrowed money comes with some kind of fee.”

  “I’d rather use my reputation to assure quick financing and show the investor that I’m serious about turning a quick dime. I understand that I need to pay some fees, but I don’t want to pay accumulated interest.”

  “I see.” Despite his disarming charm, she realized he was going to be tough to deal with. “I believe that my pool of investors can offer you desirable terms. I would, however, need to review your financial plans and—”

  “You’re very professional, I appreciate that. But we need to get to know each other on a more personal basis before I hand over all my records to you and give you unlimited access to my people. No?” He studied her, and she’d swear he was teasing her.

  He finished his second drink. He looked at Carmala’s barely touched cocktail and motioned for the bartender. “Brad, I’ll have another drink. And let’s have an order of your fabulous conch fritters, the oysters Rockefeller, and a dozen clams on the half.”

  “No problem, Mr. Maddox.”

  Michael’s attention once again returned to her, but there was a silent pause.

  She attempted to fill in the gap with more business talk. “With the erection of a brand new school for polo playing and horse riding…” She noticed the upward arch of his eyebrow at her choice of words, but she quickly recovered. “Given the amount you’re seeking, we might be better off with commercial financing.”

  “I prefer not.” He paused to savor another sip of his manhattan. “As I said, I’m not interested in paying interest on the principle. I plan to repay the investor within eighteen months.”

  “Do you expect to have revenue on the project that quickly?”

  “Of course. With my contacts, I have no doubt that the school will be fully booked with a waiting list for the next season.”

  “I like your confidence, and so will the investors. I could probably arrange this financing privately, with little cost, if you can guarantee a quick repayment schedule. Of course, I will need to review your building specs, costs of construction, and the building schedule.”

  Brad put the appetizers in front of them. Carmala realized she was hungry.

  “All of that can be arranged, I assure you. You have a full ten days to perform your due diligence.” Michael helped himself to an oyster. “Dig in.” He pointed to the appetizers. “You’ll have access to my administrative staff and department heads throughout the week. Come on, eat up, you must be hungry?”

  She ate an oyster. The salty taste of the sea caused her taste buds to burst. “You’re too kind.”

  “I only invest in the best, Carmala.” He studied her. “I’m impressed with the research you’ve done on my miniempire. I’d like to give you more details on my future vision for Maddox Industries.”

  As he spoke, his face took on a quiet confidence she admired. And that intoxicating smile set free butterflies in her stomach. She needed to stop herself. God, what was wrong with her? She was a happily attached woman.

  There was something oddly familiar about Michael. She had a distinct feeling of déjà vu. Even his hands. The way he held a fork. It all seemed strangely familiar. His hands were craggy—those of a hardworking man, rather than a business tycoon. He was missing the tip of the ring finger on his right hand. Sexy.

  Carmala took copious notes throughout the dinner. It was easy to hang on to his every word. He seemed flattered by her rapt attention. From a business perspective, he really was interesting, and she admired how he had single-handedly built his empire from humble beginnings.

  After dinner, he walked her to the elevators.

  “I’ll have Todd pick you up at nine in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Michael. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The next morning, Carmala waited at the front of the hotel in her short-sleeved, two-piece suit with a scarf and bag in hand. Todd greeted her and opened the car door. He drove her to the Maddox offices on Royal Poinciana Way. Once in the office, Michael’s personal secretary greeted her with an offer of coffee.

  Michael appeared a minute later. “Good morning. Welcome to Maddox Industries.”

  The offices decor comprised equestrian and nautical themes. She supposed he was a boater. He introduced her to his staff, while giving her a tour of the offices, which spanned the entire four-floor building.

  “As you can see, the building has the southeastern exposure so there are great views of the Intracoastal Waterway and Palm Beach.” He pointed in the designated direction. “There’s North Bridge, which was the bridge you came over into the island yesterday.”

  He showed her to her temporary office, which was complete with a computer and a beautiful view of the town. She met with his CFO, obtained the financial plans for the expansion, and buried herself in the paperwork.

  At twelve thirty, Michael poked his head in. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”

  “Oh no, I can’t. I need to make use of every hour I have here.”

  “I’ll give you a key and the security c
ode. Then you can come and go as you please. Todd will be available to take you to the hotel anytime. Or I could.”

  His slow, dimpled smile ran chills down her spine.

  She wished he would stop it…Well, not really.

  “That’s fine.”

  His secretary returned a few minutes later with the key and gave her instructions to work the security system. She was relieved that Michael didn’t bring it back. He was way too distracting and sexy for her peace of mind.

  About six that night, Carmala was still immersed in financial reports, when Michael stopped by her office. “You can work whatever hours you want, but I insist you allow me to take you to dinner. There are many fine restaurants in this town, and I’d like to show you around.”

  “If I have dinner with you every night, I won’t be able to get any work done.” She looked up, not really wanting to get caught in his penetrating gaze.

  “Well, maybe at the end of the week, then?” He gave her a broad smile.

  How could she resist? He was her client. She needed to be polite. But her real reason for saying yes was far more complicated than that.

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Okay, it’s settled. I’ll make plans. Meanwhile, if you have any questions, even if it’s late, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  He reached over her desk and took a pen and slip of paper. His hand brushed hers, and an unexpected shock of electricity ran down her spine. “This is my cell number. I’m usually up late, so you can call anytime.”

  During the week, Carmala worked feverishly to get all the financial data she needed for her investors. The company had a lot of capital, little debt, and a healthy amount of revenue. The plans for the expansion appeared to be thorough. She purposely kept her interactions with Michael to a minimum. Really, she didn’t have time to think about him much because she’d been busy, and the week passed quickly.

  He stopped by her office Saturday afternoon. “Are you done yet?”

  She practically jumped out of her seat. “No, actually, I have a lot more to cover. I need information on the subsidiaries. However, I have gotten a lot done this week.”

  “I have full confidence that you have.” He leaned in and winked. “It’s time for a little fun, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.” She stretched in her chair. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking about a nice Italian dinner. How does that sound?”

  “I’d like to freshen up a bit.” She stowed her laptop in her desk drawer, locked it, and put away assorted papers and files. “But I don’t want to stay out too late. I need to come in tomorrow. Does anyone work around here on Sundays?”

  “There’s usually a few people around. I don’t expect you to work on a Sunday.” His cell phone rang, but he ignored it.

  “I only have five business days left. Really, only four and a half because I’ll be leaving next Friday.” She hesitated and thought to add, “I must say, clients don’t usually wine and dine me. It’s usually the other way around.”

  Not that she minded the attention. She expected she’d be alone on the weekend, at the hotel lounge, curled up with her latest novel.

  “We’re only a phone call away and could send you anything you need via Internet and fax.” He patted her shoulder. “Come on, then. I’ll take you to the hotel and wait while you get ready.”

  “If you insist.” She loved that he wanted to show her around. As long as she maintained the appropriate distance, she was sure no harm would come from of a night out with Michael Maddox.

  At dinner, Carmala enjoyed the easy flow of conversation and the slight buzz from the sauvignon blanc.

  “Are you enjoying your chicken marsala?” he asked, then munched on his shrimp scampi.

  “It’s delicious. Too much, though. Maybe I’ll bring it in the office for lunch tomorrow. I’m going to get fat with all this heavy food.”

  “I don’t see what you have to worry about. You’re so petite.” He winked at her. “You must give men a run for their money.”

  Should she tell him about Guido? He hadn’t mentioned a thing about his own love life, and she was enjoying this tête-à-tête.

  A pang of guilt pulled at her heartstrings. “Actually, there’s just one guy. His name is Guido. We live together.”

  Michael didn’t register a single sign of disappointment. At least none that she could tell. Then again, she’d received mixed signals from him the entire time she’d been in Palm Beach.

  He continued prodding, “With a name like that, I suppose he’s Italian, like you?”

  “He is. His family came from Sicily.”

  “I’d have to say he is one lucky guy.” He swirled his wine, his voice laced with teasing promises.

  A well-dressed, thin, older woman with dyed-blonde hair approached their table, carrying a glass of wine. The suit appeared to be Chanel. Her hair, however, spilled out of her bun, and her jacket was missing a button. Despite her sharp attire, she appeared unkempt. Carmala smiled to herself. If she didn’t expect otherwise, she’d assume the woman had a rendezvous in the bathroom. She kissed Michael’s cheek and gave Carmala a look-over while saying in a slurred voice, “Darling, I didn’t know you two were coming here. I’m with the girls for a cocktail. We just finished bridge.”

  Michael appeared nonplussed at her disheveled appearance. “Your bridge game ended late tonight.”

  “It did. And then Susie and Kate wanted to discuss a few important matters with me.” She sipped her wine. “Are you going to introduce me?”

  “Of course, sorry. Anabel, this is Carmala from New York. Carmala, my wife, Anabel.”

  His wife. Good thing she’d let Michael know she was taken. She particularly hated men who cheated. “I’m pleased to meet you.” Carmala extended her hand, but Anabel brushed her off.

  “No need for formalities, dear. I heard that you were coming in to help Michael with his business.” Anabel took a long gulp of her wine. “You two get on with your meeting, and I’ll get to mine.” She gave Carmala a steely smile and turned on her heel, splashing wine on the floor.

  Carmala waited for Michael to speak. She wasn’t surprised he was married. But to that woman? A bit shocking. Anabel was rude, whereas Michael was full of charm and class. She couldn’t imagine them together.

  The entire scenario reminded Carmala why she didn’t mix business with pleasure.

  “Don’t mind Anabel.” Michael sipped his water. “She can be a bit highfalutin, but that goes with the territory in Palm Beach society.” He continued to eat, as though Anabel’s appearance and behavior were nothing out of the ordinary.

  Maybe Annabel’s showing up at the same restaurant with her own party was a normal occurrence for them. Carmala had no words and remained silent.

  Michael cleared his throat. “How do you feel about boating?”

  “Boating? Can’t say I’ve done much of it. The last time I went on a boat was probably a cruise on the Hudson for a work function.”

  “How would you like to take a ride on my cabin cruiser tomorrow?”

  “I, ah, what about Anabel?”

  He laughed, but the glee didn’t reach his eyes. What a shame. Maybe they were married in name only.

  “No, no. Unfortunately, Anabel will have nothing to do with the boat. It’s my Sunday ritual to take it out. I usually choose a quiet place to catch up on my reading. I have a server to make drinks and food, as well as a captain. You’ll love the fabulous views of Palm Beach from the water. You can work on the boat. I promise.” He gave her that lazy, coaxing smile again.

  “You don’t have to go to such trouble.” Now that she knew he was married, she didn’t feel comfortable socializing with him. Maybe he thought it was necessary to secure the financing he wanted. “I appreciate all of your hospitality, but really, you’re going above and beyond.” Carmala pushed her plate aside.

  “Have you had any clients of Maddox Industries’ scope?”

  He asked the question politely, so she d
idn’t construe it to be insulting in any way. “No, I can’t say I’ve worked with any clients—”

  “Then you shouldn’t worry about my extravagance. At this level, we all do it.”

  “I’m certainly glad to be on the receiving end of your generosity.” She didn’t want to insult him and struggled to find the right words. “Usually the clients I’ve dealt with, at the very most, take me for dinner and drinks. But this, the spa, the five star resort…I don’t deserve this kind of treatment. Although I must say I’m fully enjoying—”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll go on the boat for the day, and I’ll give you the tour of the Palm Beach coast line.”

  They were silent for a bit. Michael finished his meal. The waiter picked up their plates and asked if they wanted anything else. They declined, and Michael asked for the check.

  “You know, I live a fairly lonely life, Carmala. It largely consists of work. Anabel is preoccupied with her ladies’ clubs, her Maltese dogs, and her pinot grigio. I’m not complaining. Our arrangement works fine. But after twenty years, we share very few common interests.”

  Okay. Too much info. She wanted to back away from the table, feeling a little like an interloper in a private conversation she had no right to hear.

  “I’ve never been on a cabin cruiser.” She attempted to sound neutral.

  He settled the bill and guided Carmala out of the restaurant and into the mild evening air. They strolled along Royal Poinciana Way. “The boat has a wonderful cabin, complete with a living room, galley, master, and two guest staterooms and a pilot house. The deck includes a sun and a swim platform.”

  “Sounds like fun. I—I just have a lot of work to still do.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, we’ll pick up your laptop on the way.”

  “If you don’t mind, that’d be great.”

  He hesitated, then faced her. “Say, would you like to try out Ta-boo?”

  “What’s Ta-boo?”

  “It’s a restaurant and club on Worth Avenue. They have dancing on Saturday nights. Do you like to dance?”

  “Dancing? Sure, why not?”