The Last Heartbeat

by Katerina Simms

  Tight pressure rose against her chest. “What? He’s gone?”

  Daniel gave an apologetic shrug. “Yep. Took the afternoon off and left me to run the show, as usual.”

  She tapped her palm to her forehead, a move designed to keep her from losing her tact completely. “Why on earth does Luke allow him to pike out like that?”

  “Family ties, maybe? We’ve all at some point fallen victim to Max’s snap decisions, or his failure to pass on a message, or get things done. And if you do talk to Luke about Max, don’t expect him to listen. Others have tried. Nothing ever comes of it.”

  She gave a small growl under her breath and waited for her cool to return. “Never mind speaking to Luke, at this point, I’d settle for just being able to talk to Max about Max.”

  She stared down at her decorative teapot, deflated that her efforts would go to waste, that her rare enthusiasm would meet the same fate.

  She lifted her attention to the man beside her, choosing to delay packing up the meeting room to glean more insight about Tiluma. “Who’s Ernest Schneider? Why’s the upcoming meeting with him such a big deal?”

  Daniel huffed out a resigned breath. “Because Ernest Schneider is a superstar tech investor. Other investors flock to wherever he puts his money. But…” Daniel drew out a pause, like perhaps he pondered how to word his next statement. “The man’s eccentric. He resides in some remote castle in Germany. It’s freakishly hard to get an audience with him; he’s booked out six months in advance, and he hates to travel. Tiluma won’t be the only company he scopes out while in Australia, but it’s an outright miracle he’s even willing to look our way. His interest alone is a huge win for our future projects.”

  She took a second to mull over Tiluma’s predicament. “And let me guess, there’s only two ways this will go?”

  “Yep.” Daniel tapped at his temple, a sign he figured they shared the same thought. “Either he’ll invest, and others will rush to follow, or he’ll opt out, word will spread he’s turned us down and confidence in Tiluma’s value will slide. Finding replacement investors after that will be more difficult.”

  She ran a finger over the teapot’s warm glass lid. She and Daniel were bind buddies, as in, they both had a short deadline to get Tiluma into shape, and both had little real control over curtailing the impending car crash this company seemed headed toward.

  She narrowed her gaze. “All because the two people in charge refuse to get their act together.”

  Daniel laughed. “If you value your job, you won’t put it exactly like that to either of them.”

  She grinned and rose to her feet, her heart thudding wildly. “I better go pack up the meeting room, then figure out a way to deal with this Schneider deadline.”

  She was apprehensive she could fix this in time but excited for the challenge.

  “Good luck.” Daniel gave a light-hearted scoff, one that said, You’ll need it.

  She reached for her teapot and marched for the meeting room. She’d have her portion of the cancelled lunch, then store Max’s abandoned helping in the office fridge to take home with her for dinner. If she managed to make Tiluma appealing for a seasoned investor like Ernest Schneider, the partners at Slate and King would have no choice but to notice her abilities, or better yet, reward them.

  She’d nab her promotion and set herself up as the next rising-star consultant. Max could only dodge her for so long. She’d catch up with him. And when she did, she’d find a way to whip him into shape. Make sure he saw just how much his thoughtless actions and inactions affected those around him. And if frank words and retraining didn’t work, she’d have even harsher words with Luke. She most certainly wouldn’t let this dysfunctional duo ruin her chance at getting ahead.

  She pressed an elbow down on the meeting room door handle and pushed the door open with her foot, only to find a tall, pale, and infuriatingly handsome man waiting on the other side.

  7

  The hand in which Agathe held the teapot went limp. Tea splashed down, all the way to the hem of her slate-gray pencil skirt, hot water landing with a plop on the floor.

  “I. Err…” She kicked a splatter of tea from the rounded tip of her black high heel, ignoring the sting of her mildly scalded knee. A set of green eyes stared right back at her, the broad-set man belonging to those eyes taking up too much space in the tiny room. “Sorry about the carpet.”

  Luke lunged forward. She jolted in response. More tea landed on the floor.

  “Please don’t burn yourself.”

  A hot ball of need exploded in her tummy, as his hand shot out and grasped the teapot’s handle, fingers encasing hers.

  He eased the teapot out of her shaky grip and set it down on the meeting room table. “You’ve put in a lot of effort for a meeting with my brother.”

  He turned back to her, jaw firm under the weight of a frown.

  She stared at the lunch she’d carted over from the Chinese restaurant two doors down, then arranged with painstaking care. He was right. Her effort did suddenly seem far too intimate.

  “Max is the second most powerful man here.” She flicked a strand of hair from her face, an act of indifference, as she forced her focus back to Luke. “I figured he wouldn’t like what I have to say, so—”

  “So, feeding him would help?” One side of Luke’s lip trembled, before he brought the small muscles there under control.

  Was he mocking her? Merely amused? Maybe he was genuinely impressed with her efforts. She tightened her jaw and crossed her arms, deciding it was better to appear pissed than stupid.

  He stepped closer, so close that the memory of her pressed to a certain cabin wall came to the forefront, how one gentle lean forward now would bring their bodies into contact once more.

  “I… uh.” The skin on her neck and chest warmed, and a thrilling shudder zipped down her spine. She needed to divert her thoughts, before she became the one doing the leaning in. “I only just learned Max cancelled. I came here to pack this all away.”

  Luke’s unmistakable citrusy, male scent hugged her in a tide of delicious memories. She cleared her throat, hoping the action would have a similar effect on her mind.

  The over-the-top banquet came as pitiful evidence of her need to impress, and she tried not to look at it. Unfortunately, that meant her attention remained on Luke and his astute stare. As always, he seemed to know too much. Her work meant more to her than it should have, which in turn revealed something about what was missing from her life.

  His gaze swept over her face, his presence quiet, large frame looming. He shook his head, his fingers skimming her upper arm. “Max was actually somewhat prepared this time. He sent me here to fill in.”

  Warmth bloomed within the core of her tummy and spread outward at an alarming speed. The tenderness in his tone, that he didn’t tease her efforts, tugged at her heart, and compelled her away from him. She needed to slow her runaway pulse.

  She reached for the nearest seat, set to have her meeting with Luke instead, then stopped in her tracks.

  Even as she walked from him, her body still played out an unconscious desire to follow his every directive. “No. I set up this room with an express need to speak to Max. Not you.”

  Luke’s brow ticked upward. “Did you tell him that, or were you just going to launch into an appraisal of his work? He seemed under the impression this would be more of a general meeting.”

  She narrowed her eyes, strain drawing at her cheekbones. “Or maybe he knew exactly what I wanted to say and bailed?”

  Luke peered down and nodded. “That could also be true. He did seem desperate to leave.”

  He returned his direct attention, his eyes giving off a warm hue, then skirted the table until his hands rested on the back of a chair opposite her. “But please, sit. I still want to hear what you’ve learned so far.”

  He gestured toward the chair beside her, and a ringing silence drew between them, one that left her chest clenching with a sudden, deep desire to backpedal out
the door. “What happened to keeping your distance?”

  She mirrored his stance, clutching the back of her chair, likely looking far less in control than he did.

  “I’m clear on the other side of this table and have every intention of keeping my hands to myself. See—” He rounded his chair and sat; his hands pressed to the table. “I just want to listen to what you have to say.”

  The smoothness in his expression hinted at a ploy. His confident gaze had her temperature rising, so much so her cheeks burned. He’d mentioned controlling his hands, not that he lacked the desire to use them.

  And yet, he was the CEO here. Her temporary boss, despite her protests. He owned this company and had every right to her early findings.

  “Fine.” She practically threw herself into her chair, the hydraulics hissing under her forceful approach.

  The soft smile lines around his eyes eased. “Great. Let’s take this chance to develop some professional chemistry. Nothing more.”

  And there it was again. Chemistry. Was he prodding her nerves on purpose? Lobbing a reminder of the brief magnetism they’d experienced in each other’s arms?

  “First, let’s get one thing straight.” She leaned forward and stabbed a finger in his direction. “You asked for an outside opinion, and I have one that comes with the unedited truth about how this company runs. I don’t have the same risks your employees do in speaking up. I don’t need to tiptoe around you. So, I hope you’re ready for what I have to say.”

  Luke bit back any sign of enthusiasm, his focus glued to Agathe’s fiery stare. Her sudden intensity made his inner emotions bounce somewhere between turned on, impressed, and a touch defensive. “I’d appreciate your honesty.”

  He reached out and divided the two teacups between them, the pretty glass set yet another example of how much she’d invested in this meeting. The array of spring rolls, barbecue pork, and king prawns across the table offered more proof.

  “I know you’re no fool, Mr. Tindall.” She slumped back, her gaze fixed to his hand as he poured her tea. The deflated look suggested his lack of retaliation disappointed her need to fight. “You probably know what I’m about to say.”

  His name from her mouth sent tingles through his chest before he found focus on her downturned gaze and her lack of eye contact. She leaned to her right and pulled out a clipboard, ignoring the empty plate he’d set before her. Not that he minded. Her sudden action allowed an opportunity to take in her tousled hair and its flurry of sandy-blonde streaks. The lighter strands contrasted against the darker, thick waves that broke free of her messy bun and framed her fine-boned face. His hand ached with a desire to reach out and touch her.

  Her gaze flicked up to him, and her rich, dark-chocolate glare struck at full force. He fought the urge to look away, instead sending her a message that he didn’t mind her catching him admiring her, even if his heart did race faster than a hollow-point bullet.

  He loaded his plate with food, returning his thoughts to her statement about him not being a fool. “What gave me away?”

  Her lower lip jutted and thick, black lashes squinted together with her scowl. She clearly detested his toying with her. “You said you wanted to hear what I had to say.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.” He swatted a hand, the casual gesture a promise he’d try to remain on track, even if the blood currently rushing to his lower regions brought him to pain. He wanted to take those pouting lips and kiss her until she softened a little. Then again, did Agathe even do soft?

  Oh yes, yes, she did.

  The memory of that softness, of her gentle moans and her body melding to his, haunted him with a maddening need to finish what they’d started months ago.

  Maybe then he could go back to thinking about something other than this woman. Or maybe thinking about ravaging her was a hell of a lot nicer than addressing what she had to say next, because he sure as heck did know what Ms. Santos had to say. He just didn’t want to hear it.

  “Your brother is damaging this company from the inside, out.”

  Bingo. Just as he’d thought.

  He slumped back and huffed out a puff of air, taking a moment to absorb the impact of her verbal sledgehammer. “You got right to the point there, didn’t you?”

  She sent him a glower. “Max is a huge liability on many fronts. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I weren’t honest about that.”

  A heavy silence filled the room, and Luke peered down at the Singapore noodles on his plate. So far, neither of them had touched any food.

  She cleared her throat, eyes brightening, as though satisfied she’d gotten past the first hurdle. “To begin with, Max is under-performing, and his unjustified, high-ranking position in the company has created discord in the office. His severe lack of management skills undermines your more talented staff.”

  Luke threw her a deadpan expression. “That’s a sizable list of disappointments. I can see why Max gave you the slip.”

  She shrugged, seemingly unperturbed with his dig at her list, and forked a minuscule serving of noodles onto her plate; the move provided him more time to stew.

  “Your team spent months working on the Myers Rigged app. A simple undertaking that still hasn’t launched. I get a huge sense of animosity over how long this project is taking.”

  “I’m aware of the lapsed deadline,” he grumbled, a weak sensation spreading through his chest.

  The Myers Rigged app was Tiluma’s current big project, a play on the hugely popular Myers Briggs personality test. The app spat out hilarious, but slightly insulting results, so instead of a user being grouped as an Introverted, Sensing, Thinking, Perceiving type, the app would label them an Antisocial, Unfeeling, Over-analytical, Robot. There was even a cute, angry robot graphic to go with the results.

  “Yet, by all reports,” Agathe’s matter-of-fact tone chipped again at his waning appetite, “Max continues to come up with tangent ideas and add-on features. The app isn’t going anywhere, meanwhile the slow build is costing you money.”

  He worked his teeth together, his mind buzzing with all the clichés. Honesty was a bitter pill to swallow, and the truth did bloody hurt, and in this case, embarrass. “I know this, too.”

  The flailing app. His employees’ suffering. This beautiful and astute woman having already cottoned onto Tiluma’s issues, while he was forced to keep his reasons for saving Max private. All of it made sickening nausea dance through his stomach. Because when Tiluma had issues, then he had issues, and those issues made him look weak and indecisive. And where his brother was concerned, Luke was most definitely weak and indecisive.

  “Look at me.” Her gentle, yet firm tone stole at his brooding. He obeyed. “Luke, the app is just one example. That food fight a few days ago angered a lot of people. From what I’ve heard, antics like that aren’t too unusual in this office.”

  A forceful pressure squeezed at his throat, and his fingers pressed into the table. She’d taken a risk in confronting him, and she’d been professional and compassionate about it too. As much as the truth hurt, he couldn’t begrudge her approach, so he rewarded her risk with an honest reply. “No, they’re not. But I can’t simply fire or demote Max, either.”

  Her expression softened, like her sympathy for him had deepened. “Because he’s your brother?”

  Yes, but she didn’t know the whole story. Max was the one who deserved her understanding.

  If not for Luke, Max’s life would have taken a different path altogether. Max’s aimlessness now was all Luke’s fault, and he owed his brother protection, or at the very least, time until he found his way.

  Besides that, other people relied on Luke safeguarding Max. Their sister Sophie, for one. With the two being nearer in age, she’d always been much closer to Max; but right now, she needed to complete her final year of university without worrying about her oafish brother messing up.

  And then there was their mother. In a roundabout way, she relied on him, too. The death of their dad three years ago ha
d hit her hard. She deserved to relish her senior years in peace, with her friends back in Scarborough. So, in an unspoken way, it fell to Luke to hold the family fort so she wouldn’t have to.

  Agathe’s hand paused across the table, like she fell short of reaching for him. He clawed his fingers into the table to keep from bridging the distance for her. He’d been the one who promised to keep his hands to himself.

  “Luke, Tiluma’s foundation is built on fun. I get that Max might think his attempted comedy falls in step with those values, and perhaps he just wants to maintain an entertaining workplace, but some of your employees are downright miserable. Their willingness to stay hangs by a thread.” She grimaced, returning her hand to her side, then stared down at the table, as if second-guessing her move. “Most people here just want to get on with their jobs; they take their careers seriously, and Max’s brand of fun makes that nearly impossible.”

  “While I acknowledge Max lacks certain management skills, this company owes a lot to his contributions.” Luke had no desire to sacrifice his innocent staff in exchange for saving his brother, but at the same time, he felt backed into a corner with no escape.

  “I understand his ideas have been a cornerstone to many of Tiluma’s best apps; I do. But had he ever even worked in an office before nabbing his current CTO role?” She sent out a casual stare, as though she knew she had him, and waited in complete silence for an answer.

  He dipped his chin, his glower a subtle warning for her to ease off. Yes, she had a point, but he wasn’t stupid, and he had his reasons. But even as he stared her down, he couldn’t keep his blood from warming out of appreciation for her sharp mind and her ability to go toe to toe with him.

  “Max and I have discussed his need to extend his range. It’s fair to give him time to adjust.”

  She tilted her head to one side and reeled back. “Tiluma has been around for four years. How much training has he had since then? How much more time will you give him before you decide he simply isn’t cut out for this job?”