Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  “Maryn,” I say, “it’s nice to meet you.” A twinge of a smile tugs on her lips before fading away.

  “Thank you, I’m glad to be here,” she says with her voice, but her eyes are saying “Fuck you”—and not in the good kind of way.

  “Wyatt, here, just got promoted to partner a few weeks ago,” Nate says. “He’s brought in some of our biggest clients, including Landry hotels, who he’s getting ready to meet with today.”

  Her eyes flash back to mine and instantly grow colder. Although, the Landry name did seem to impress her the slightest bit.

  “Wow,” she says with a nod.

  “You’ll be working with Wyatt’s team a good deal,” Nate says, and I watch her eyes grow wide again. “Might be traveling a few times a year to some of our clients.”

  She nods slowly, still staring directly at me. Yikes.

  “Well, good luck today,” she says as they turn to walk out of my office. “Hopefully, you can nail it.”

  Nate doesn’t catch on, but what she’s really saying is, “I sort of hope you crash and burn.” And I don’t know why, but it feels like a challenge. It gets me hot and bothered in the best fucking way. Why the fuck did I do this to myself?

  “Well, good luck, Wyatt. Knock ‘em dead,” Nate says, leading her out of my office. My head drops, and I rub the back of my neck. The biggest fucking hotel chain in the world, and my most stressful encounter today will be with the blonde in the pencil skirt.

  The meeting with Landry goes amazing. It doesn’t take me long before I’m back in the game, feeling like my normal self. I’m not arrogant, but I know that I’m good at my job. And I don’t feel guilty about climbing to the top quicker than most, because I know I deserve it. After everything I’ve been through, after everything my family has been through, and after all the work I’ve put into this, I deserve it.

  I’ll be heading out to Chicago in a few weeks to present the official communications plans at Landry’s headquarters. It’s going to be a big deal. Our CEO is coming with us, and so is Nate. It’s gonna be another doozy, another career-defining moment for me. But I know I’ve got it.

  I sit back in my seat, chucking my Yankees ball up and down again.

  “Heard you killed it as usual,” Nate says as he takes a seat across from me.

  I smile and nod.

  “Yeah, man. I’m really excited,” he says. “That’s awesome. This is huge. Seriously.”

  I nod.

  “So, I have a meeting with Sellman this afternoon. Hope you don’t mind, but I set up some time for you to meet with Maryn and give her the lowdown on some of your clients. She’ll be going to Chicago with us, so I figured it would be good to show her the ropes before that. She’s in training till this afternoon, then she knows to come here.”

  I nod slowly—too slow. I clear my throat.

  “Uh, yeah, that should be fine. I can clear my schedule.”

  “No need; Priscilla already checked it and penciled her in. She’s yours from four to five,” Nate says, standing up from the chair and walking toward the door. “I think she’s gonna do really well here. Good choice.”

  I fall back against my chair and rub my temples.

  She’s so fucking sexy. And smart. And I’m the most masochistic son of a bitch in the world for bringing her here. It’s going to be torturous. But besides my unwavering attraction to her, there’s still something inside of me that feels like I owe her. Like I should do something to make her life better.

  The rest of the day goes by pretty slowly. I have no other meetings and am just catching up on some things. I’ve had the occasional visitor pop in to congratulate me on Landry, including Rex, Nate’s dad and the CEO of Caldell.

  “The best damn decision I’ve ever made in my professional career was hiring you, kid,” he says, popping a handful of nuts into his mouth as he stands in my office doorway. He points a finger to me. “Proud of you, kid.” I nod.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “We’ll be celebrating big in Chicago,” he says as he makes his way down the hall. I swallow. Chicago. Maryn. I look at the clock. It’s 3:59. And wouldn’t you know it, she appears, right on time.

  “Hey,” I say, standing up from my desk.

  “Hello,” she says. I walk around to greet her and point her to the couches at the back corner of my office.

  “Please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” I say. I shut the door behind her, then take a seat on the chair across from her.

  She sits down and delicately crosses one leg over the other. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a notebook and a pen and sets them on her lap. Then, she lifts those big blue eyes to me, and I feel my stomach flip.

  “So, how’s your first day going?” I ask, leaning back in the chair and flipping my jacket open a bit, trying to look comfortable.

  “Look,” she says, pulling her blazer down, “let’s not do this. I appreciate you putting in the final word, but I could have gotten this job on my own.”

  I shoot an eyebrow up.

  “That’s sort of like a ‘thank you,’ but not really,” I say with a half-smile. Her lips press into a hard line.

  “It’s definitely not a ‘thank you.’ I deserve this job, and I could have gotten it without you,” she says. I nod.

  “That’s true. You were on the top of the list without my input,” I say.

  “I didn’t take this job to be closer to you,” she says, and her boldness makes me twitch. “I took it in spite of you. I took it because I want you to regret the strings you pulled, asking for me to be here, knowing how much I loathe you.”

  I know she’s serious, but I can’t help but smile at her fiery words. I narrow my eyes at her.

  “Pretty bold to talk to a partner that way,” I say. She scoffs.

  “I don’t give a damn what your title is. You are 100% not my manager,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that pushes her breasts up and gives me a straight shot of her cleavage. I swallow.

  “You’re right,” I say, leaning forward a bit. “But we will be working together very closely on a lot of projects.” To my surprise, she mirrors my actions and leans forward.

  “If you think I will ever be working as closely with you as I did in Florida, you are sadly, sadly mistaken,” she says, her voice just above a whisper. “I might work with you now, but I still absolutely hate you, Wyatt Mills.”

  I sit back in my chair and look her up and down.

  “So you’ve said,” I say with a smirk.

  “You destroyed my family, me, for years,” she says, standing up from the couch. “We lost everything. Florida was a mishap that will not happen again. But what will happen is that you will regret the moment you plucked my resume off your desk. I’m not here to make nice, Wyatt. I’m here to get even.”

  She stalks over to the door, not even waiting to see if there’s anything else for us to discuss. I should be pissed. I should be reporting her to Nate. But I won’t. Because I wanted this. I wanted her to be here. I want her again—body, mind, soul. I want her to not fucking hate me.

  “Well, then,” I say, just as she’s opening the door, “guess I’ll see you in Chicago.”

  She turns to me slowly.

  “What’s in Chicago?” she asks.

  “Landry headquarters,” I say. “It’ll be your first business trip.”

  She sighs and closes the door behind her.

  Don’t worry, Miss Porter. I’ll be a total gentleman.

  Unless you don’t want me to.

  10

  Maryn

  I get home and slam the apartment door shut, and within a moment, Ellie is emerging from her bedroom. We got so lucky. We got a great deal on this place, and Ellie’s dad paid a little extra for them to let us move in early. I’m still not unpacked, but I am loving being in the city. It’s loud here, and I love it.

  “Well, I was gonna ask you how your first day went, but—”

  “Ugh,” I say, throwing my bag down on the co
uch and kicking off my pumps. I walk to the fridge and pluck a bottle of wine from the top of it. I slam a glass down on the counter in front of me and fill ‘er up.

  “That good, huh?” Ellie says. I guzzle the wine like it’s water before stalking back over and plopping on the couch.

  “He’s going to make my life hell,” I say.

  “Why? Did he say something? Is he harassing you?” she asks. I sigh.

  “No.”

  “Well, what did he say?”

  “He welcomed me to the company,” I say. She raises her eyebrows.

  “Well, what did he do?” she asks. I sigh again.

  “Nothing, I guess. He’s just...there.” She smiles, which gets me all fired up. “What? There’s nothing funny about this.”

  “Oh, nothing,” she says. “It’s just that you hate him a lot. But you also want to get in his pants again.”

  “What?” I say, shock all over my face. She giggles as she walks to the kitchen.

  “I’m telling you, Mare, that right there,” she says, pointing to my face, “is the face of a sexually frustrated woman.”

  “No. No fucking way. I despise him,” I say. She crosses her arms and purses her lips out.

  “Did you despise him when he was screwing you silly?”

  I make a gagging noise.

  “Can we please not use the term ‘screwing you silly?’” I ask. “And yeah. I did hate him. Every second of it.” I pause. “Except for maybe the very end,” I add sheepishly.

  She chuckles.

  “This is me you’re talking to, not Keely. So you can be honest about it. It doesn’t make ya weak, kid,” she says. “It’s okay if, over time, you don’t hate him as much.”

  She goes back into her room as I collapse back against the couch.

  After the first few weeks on the job, I’m actually really liking it. So far, I haven’t run into Wyatt a whole lot; I can see his office from my cubicle, so I know exactly what times to avoid the kitchen so that we don’t get coffee at the same time. We make eye contact every so often, but for the most part, that’s been the extent of our conversation.

  I really like Nate. As far as managers go—and as far as someone who’s never had a manager thinks—he’s pretty cool. He gives me a lot of work, but lets me run with it without breathing down my neck. I’m making friends with a lot of my other coworkers, too, which is something that Wyatt seems to be not so fond of. He’s broken up a few pow-wows at my desk and seems to have a scowl on his face when he walks by and sees someone talking to me. It gives me more satisfaction than I care to admit.

  I think Wyatt and I have done a good job of not letting on that we knew each other in a past life. No one seems to suspect anything, and due to our lack of interacting, I don’t see that being an issue in the future.

  I’m sitting at my desk, working on a press release, when Nate walks by and taps on my cube.

  “Hey, do you have a minute for a quick meeting in Wyatt’s office?” he asks. I hop up and grab my notebook.

  “Sure,” I say.

  When we get in, Wyatt and Nate are making small talk, talking about the Yankees and some new workout class Nate’s been taking. Finally, we all sit down on the leather couches. Nate hands us each a piece of paper.

  “So, I just wanted to go over the itinerary for Chicago,” he says. I clear my throat as I scan the sheet. “So, you guys will leave Monday, if that works.” I look up to Nate.

  “You’re not coming?” I ask. He shakes his head.

  “Unfortunately, I got called into another big meeting next week with one of our other bigger clients. Don’t worry, though. Wyatt, here, will show you the ropes and take good care of you.” I nod. For fuck’s sake.

  “Rex is going out there a little bit early,” Nate says. “Your guys’ flight will land around seven p.m. on Monday, and you can meet Rex for a late dinner to go over everything for the meeting Tuesday.” I’m still getting used to the fact that Nate calls his dad by his first name; I guess it would be weird for a thirty-something-year-old man to walk around the halls asking for his daddy, though.

  Wyatt’s eyes flash up to me, then to Nate, and he nods.

  “Sounds good.”

  “So, I know you’re probably more than ready, but Maryn, if Wyatt needs any help with any of the materials this week, think you can help him out?”

  I nod.

  “Absolutely,” I say, trying to fight back the bile in my throat.

  “I might just have you take a look at everything, just to get a second pair of eyes on it,” he says.

  I nod.

  “Great, I’ll send that to you this afternoon.”

  When I get back to my desk, I open a group text.

  We’re on the same freakin flight next week.

  Who? Keely asks. Oh, wait, you and Wy-guy?

  Yes. And don’t give him pet names. We hate him, remember?

  Oh, yeah, sorry.

  Ha, Ellie chimes in. You’re losing that battle, honey.

  Oh, is she now? Keely asks.

  Hell yeah. She wants the D. AGAIN, Ellie says. I roll my eyes.

  Ok, first of all, fuck you both. Second of all. NO. I don’t. I can’t. He RUINED our lives. I hate him.

  Ellie sends a GIF of a girl rolling her eyes.

  Fine. Then get your butt to Chicago and make him regret the very minute he set his sights on your family.

  I take in a breath. Hope you’re ready for me, Mr. Mills.

  I get to the airport extra early, check in early, and sit by myself in a far corner of the waiting area for the flight, hoping to God I don’t have to see him. At least, not yet. I’m successful until I get on the plane and see him there, in first class, already boarded and comfy cozy. We make eye contact, and he nods at me. I make something similar to a gag noise then walk by him, shuffling my way back to the common folk.

  When we land, I take my time getting off, giving him plenty of time to get off ahead of me. I wait for my baggage and head out to the front of the airport to wait for a cab.

  “Took ya long enough,” I hear his cool voice say, and my spine goes straight. Fuck me.

  “Why are you still here?” I ask.

  “Thought we could cab share. Ya know, save the company a few dollars,” he says. He sticks his hand out, and a cab pulls around.

  “I’d rather just pay for my own out of my own pocket,” I say. He laughs as he bends down to grab my bag.

  “Come on, now,” he says, putting both of our bags in the trunk. “Let’s be grownups.”

  I roll my eyes and get in the cab. The whole ride to the hotel, I stare out the window, trying to take in the sights and sounds of Chicago and ignore the enemy next to me.

  “Ever been to Chi-town?” he asks. I shake my head.

  “Nope,” I say, without looking at him.

  We ride the rest of the way in silence. He pays for the cab, and then we make our way inside to the front desk. We get our room keys and head to the elevators. I’m on the 18th floor, and he’s on the 28th. Phew. Ten whole floors between us. Last time I was in a hotel with him... There cannot—will not—be a repeat of last time.

  We ride up in silence, but I can feel his eyes on me.

  “You and I,” he says, and I look at him, “are clearly not going to be friends.”

  I laugh.

  “Clearly.”

  “Can we just be civil?” he asks. I sigh, my eyes dropping to the floor then searching the buttons, hoping for eighteen.

  “If I had taken everything from you, would you want to be civil?” I ask him just as the elevator doors open. I walk off and turn back to him.

  “I thought he did,” he says.

  “What?” I say.

  “Your father. I thought he did take everything from me.”

  The doors close, and I’m standing in the hallway with my jaw at the ground.

  I throw my things on my bed and look around the room. I text my parents to let them know I’ve landed safely and then do a re-con of my appearance i
n the mirror. I might be in the middle of a battle with Wyatt, but I need to cool my jets for this dinner. Rex Calloway is the CEO of our company. He and Rick Wadell—hence, Cal-Dell—started the company back in the 80’s from Rick’s parents’ basement. And now they’re here. Rick passed away a few years back, according to the “About Us” pamphlet I got at my orientation. Rex runs it now, with Nate and, apparently, Wyatt following behind him.

  It’s time to turn on the charm, show Mr. Calloway why I’m supposed to be here. That one day, maybe I’ll be following right along behind him, too.

  I ride the elevator back down to the lobby and walk across to the restaurant where we’re meeting.

  Rex is a big man. He rivals Wyatt in height. He’s got salt-and-pepper hair, electric-blue eyes, and he’s always tan, just as you’d expect someone who goes to the Bahamas four or five times a year to be. He always smells good, and as far as CEOs go, he’s actually pretty involved with his company. He shows his face a lot.

  When I walk toward him, Wyatt’s already sitting down next to him, which irks me. I’m early, but Wyatt was earlier.

  They both stand to greet me and shake my hand.

  “Welcome, Maryn,” Rex says, holding his hand out for me to take a seat. “How was the flight?”

  “Fine,” I say with a warm smile. “Chicago seems great.”

  He smiles.

  “It’s great,” he says. “So, I’m just walking Wyatt through our schedule. We will have lunch tomorrow with a few of the executives and then give our presentation after that. Then, hopefully, we will be celebrating with dinner and drinks after!”

  I smile and nod.

  “That sounds great!” I say.

  “Great,” Rex says. The rest of lunch is weird for me. Wyatt and Rex are discussing the Landry deal and a bunch of other ones I haven’t been around long enough to know about. I know I’m entry-level, but I’m soaking this all in. I’m remembering names and companies to research later. I will be a pro. Finally, Rex calls the waiter over to pay the bill, and I know I’m almost free.