Trouble

by Nicole, Angela

  “Sounds good. We’ll be over about six?”

  “See you then.”

  * * *

  After stopping at the post office to forward my mail, I take a quick shower and throw on some yoga pants and a tank top. No reason to get dressed up for a sloppy night of pizza and wine. Since I have a little time before Steffy and her daughter get here, I open my laptop to do some research on Jensen A & E.

  I don’t find much other than what Catherine has already told me. Taylor texted me earlier, letting me know the CEO wants to meet with me for dinner the night I get in. He’ll send a car to meet me on the tarmac and take me to our meeting.

  My email pings with an alert, so I click to open. I find a message with the sender email address of Jensen A & E. Intrigued, I click and open the email to find Casey Woodford has sent me a quick note.

  Ms. Marsh,

  We are looking forward to your arrival next week. I’m attaching our latest sales figures for your review. Please let me know if you need anything.

  Casey Woodford, Assistant to the CEO

  Chapter Eight

  Tate

  Hennie sent a short reply back to Casey just as I had expected. I haven’t been able to concentrate since Catherine agreed to send Hennie to New York. I barely pay attention in meetings— I’m talking about the meetings I’m supposed to be running. I need to get my shit together before she gets here so we can make the most of our time together.

  “Hey,” Nolan says as he pops his head in my office.

  When I bought this company, I hired Nolan as one of my project managers. Since his tour with the Army ended, Nolan has been right by my side, getting Jensen A & E up and running.

  “Hennie emailed back, Dude. I can’t fucking wait to see her,” I confess as I swivel in my leather chair.

  Nolan takes a seat on the sofa across from me. “Man, I’m not sure I want to be around when she finds out you’re the CEO. Hen may be tiny, but she can pack a punch. I think I still have a bruise on my arm from her.”

  Nolan and Hennie were like brother and sister. They’d constantly tease and argue with each other, but never seriously.

  “I’m sure she’ll be pissed at first, but I’m hoping she lets me explain why I did what I did ten years ago. I know she has a great life now, doing what she’s always wanted to do. She couldn’t have had that if she stayed in such a small town.”

  Nolan shakes his head. He was never on board with my fake cheating to get Hennie to leave. He just wanted me to make as much of a clean break with her as possible. “You don’t know that, Tate.”

  “She needed a fresh start in California, and I needed one here.”

  “I get wanting to start fresh, but I don’t know how you’re going to explain all of this to Hennie. What if she runs?”

  My eyes snap to his. “I’ll chase her. I’m not fucking around anymore, Nolan. She’s mine and always has been.”

  “Well, for your sake, I hope she agrees. Because if not, everything you’ve done the last ten years will mean shit,” he says with a salute as he heads out the door.

  I know Nolan is right. Everything I’ve done since Hennie moved to California has been to get her back in my arms. Yeah, she probably won’t see it that way at first, but I’m hoping with time and us working together, she’ll forgive me.

  Chapter Nine

  Hennie

  This week flew by. After making sure my current projects were either tied up or in a good place to hand off to Catherine, I had little time to pack. Not that I’m too upset about having to go shopping in Manhattan, but six months in the city will be cutting into my savings for sure.

  A private car picks me up at work and takes me to a landing strip on the outskirts of the city. When I arrive, the driver opens the door and carries my three bags up the jet steps.

  “Good luck in New York, Ms. Marsh,” he says as the pilot makes his way down to assist me.

  “Nice to have you aboard, Ms. Marsh.”

  “Please, call me Hennie,” I say as I shake his hand before we head onto the plane.

  “My name is Paul, ma’am, and it’ll be my pleasure to fly you to the East Coast. Tara here will be taking care of you.”

  I glance over at the flight attendant. She towers over me at probably five-foot-ten inches, with jet black hair tied back in a low ponytail. Tara extends her hand, and I shake it.

  “Thank you both.”

  Tara smiles as she leads me to a set of four leather chairs surrounding a small conference table. “Would you like something to drink before we take off?”

  “Just sparkling water, if you have it, please.”

  “I’ll be right back with your water. And the restroom is right there.” She motions to the back of the plane. “It’s the door on the left, right before the bedroom.”

  “Bedroom?” I ask, my eyes wide.

  Tara laughs. “Yes, in case we need to make an overseas trip. But since Mr. Palmer has taken over, we haven’t needed to use it.”

  Palmer? I think to myself. I’m not so sure that’s a good or bad sign. I shove thoughts of Tate out of my mind as I settle into my seat.

  Tara brings me my water as the pilot announces our departure.

  Once we level out and I see Tara walking around, I pull out my plan for Jensen. From what I can tell, the company had little in the way of a public relations campaign. In fact, since the new owner took over, most everything has been wiped clean. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want his name out there yet. Come to think about it, had Tara never mentioned his name, I never would’ve known the CEO is a Mr. Palmer. I know it’s a popular name, but when I heard it come from her lips, I couldn’t help it when part of me wanted it to be Tate.

  Reclining my seat, I close my eyes, trying to relax. For some reason, my nerves are all over the place since I boarded the jet. I’m not a big fan of flying but consider it a necessary evil to get where I need to go. I must’ve drifted off for longer then I wanted because the next thing I know, Tara wakes me saying we should be landing in an hour or so, and if I'd like something to eat, I better get it now.

  I ask for a cheese board, some fresh fruit, and a glass of white wine, but the wine does little to calm my nerves.

  Once we land, it only takes a few minutes to deboard the jet with my luggage waiting on the tarmac. Tara and the pilot both greet me as I make my way down the steps to the awaiting car. With a quick thank you and a wave, I'm off to meet Mr. Palmer for dinner.

  Chapter Ten

  Tate

  The last four days have crept by. With every passing moment, my nerves are getting the best of me. I’ve snapped at Casey twice, apologized, and bought her lunch. I’m really not an asshole but knowing Hennie will be here in three hours has me in knots.

  “Casey, can you come in, please?”

  I hear her shut the drawer to her desk and make her way to my office.

  “Yes, Mr. Palmer?”

  “Could you please reconfirm my dinner reservation at La Greca? Also, I’ll be leaving to run home in an hour. I won’t be back until Monday after lunch. Why don’t you take off early and enjoy the weekend?”

  I hate getting a sad smile from Casey. She’s been through so much. “I’d like that. Thank you, Mr. Palmer,” she says with a nod.

  “Tate. Please call me Tate. I want to be sure you and I have a comfortable working relationship. I’m pretty casual and hope my type of work atmosphere is something you’ll be comfortable with.”

  I can see Casey get choked up. I’m not sure if she recalls her past with her family or if she misses the original owner of the company. Either way, I’m not a dick. I want to make sure Jensen A & E feels like family to her. Perhaps it’s because I don’t have any family anymore and knowing these people have worked together for years even before I came on is a good reason.

  Casey nods. “I’ll just get the materials ready for your dinner meeting tonight and then head out.”

  After my assistant leaves, I’m left with thoughts of how I’m going to explain
the last ten years to Hennie. I’ve replayed this scenario in my mind hundreds of times, and each time it doesn’t end well. I know she’s going to be pissed, but I just hope she hears me out before she runs for the hills.

  The next few hours are spent pouring over the information I’m going to give Hennie. Even before the previous owner died, contracts had slipped tremendously. No one was in charge of designing a marketing and PR campaign to compete against the bigger A & E companies. I’m hoping by hiring CJJ, we’ll be able to put a new, younger face to the company.

  My phone pings just as I finish up with the last of the stats concerning our social media outreach. I need to leave for the restaurant in an hour. With just enough time to go back to my brownstone, shower, and head to Hennie’s favorite Italian restaurant, I’ve planned everything down to the last detail. I chose La Greca for our meeting. Looking on social media, I located pictures of Hennie and some of her CJJ co-workers having dinner at the restaurant. Her caption stated it was her favorite when she was in town. Other than that and a few posts from other people, Hennie has been radio silent.

  Taking a taxi to my place, I shrug off my suit jacket as I jog up my steps. I bought my two-bedroom brownstone hoping Hennie would decide to join me. Maybe I’m getting my hopes up, but dreaming about a life with the only woman I’ve ever loved is what’s kept me going since she left for California.

  Letting the hot water from my LED ceiling showerhead wash over me, I think about how many times I’ve pictured Hennie in here with me, and my dick hardens. Perhaps taking the edge off is a smart move. Reaching down, I stroke myself slowly at first. Envisioning her curves and how sweet she would taste, I don’t last long before I go over the edge.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m in my twelve-hundred-dollar tailored suit on my way to La Greca Italian Restaurant. If I said I wasn’t nervous as fuck, I’d be lying. I know the first interaction I have with Hennie after all this time will set the tone for how things go. When the taxi pulls up to the front of the restaurant, everything becomes real. Everything I’ve done from the day Hennie left to today is about to come to a head.

  I’m scared as hell.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hennie

  I need to fly on private jets more often, I think, as we drive to the restaurant. The wine was great, and so were the canapes. It was just enough to tide me over until my dinner meeting. Neither Catherine nor Taylor mentioned where I was meeting the CEO, but when we pull up outside my favorite place to eat when I’m in town, my excitement is palpable.

  “Ms. Marsh, Mr. Palmer has informed me he’s inside waiting for you. I was asked to wait, so I will be right up the street when you are ready to leave.”

  Again, the name hits me right in my heart. Ugh . . . I hope this guy isn’t an asshole like Tate.

  “Thank you,” I tell Michael, the driver, as he reaches his hand for mine, helping me out of the car.

  With a quick nod, I enter the cozy restaurant I’ve grown to love. It’s a family-run establishment offering delicious homemade entrees prepared by Salvatore La Greca and his wife Caterina. I’m hoping they’re both here tonight so I can see them.

  As the hostess greets me, my heart begins to race for some reason. I’ve never been nervous about meeting a new client. Perhaps it’s because I don’t know much about the CEO except his name, and that alone has me a little freaked out.

  Leading the way from the main dining area, I’m shown to a back room I didn’t know existed. After all, every time I’ve been here with Catherine, Taylor, and the others from CJJ, we’ve always been given the run of the dining area.

  “Mr. Palmer has requested our private room for tonight’s dinner,” the hostess says over her shoulder to me. As we approach the door, I smell a hint of Creed Aventus cologne in the air. Mmm, my favorite. Just as I begin to relax, my stomach drops the minute the hostess opens the door to the room.

  Standing before me is not an old crotchety Mr. Palmer, but Tate Palmer . . . my Tate. He looks different, and yet the same. My heart immediately begins to race as Tate stands at the table, buttoning his suit jacket.

  “Ring the buzzer if you need me,” the hostess says. “I’ll begin to bring your drinks and food as you’ve requested, Mr. Palmer.”

  “Thank you, Mary.”

  I’m too stunned to speak. I can feel my hands start to tremble. I mean, is this some sort of sick joke?

  “Trouble,” he whispers.

  It’s the moment I hear his nickname for me that I realize this isn’t a dream. No, Tate is here.

  Shaking my head, I try to form words. “I . . . I don’t understand,” I admit as I look around.

  Tate extends his hand, silently asking me to come forward. When I don’t move, he responds.

  “Hennie, please come sit, and I’ll explain everything.”

  “No, I . . . um . . . I’m supposed to be meeting the owner of Jensen A & E. You can’t be that Mr. Palmer.” My voice is trembling as I begin to put two and two together. And hell if they don’t equal four.

  Before I know it, Tate is two feet in front of me. The vibration in my body is visible.

  “Hennie, Jesus, you’re more beautiful than I imagined.”

  “Tate? What are you doing here?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Tate

  The second Hennie walked into the room; my heart nearly exploded out of my chest. As my eyes move from hers, I notice the woman she’s become. Hennie Marsh is no longer the eighteen-year-old on the cusp of becoming a woman. Hennie Marsh is all woman now, with soft curves, lips I want to nibble on, and an ass made for worshipping. My admiration of who she’s become is cut short when I see the change on her face from shock to anger.

  “Hennie?”

  “I have to go,” she tosses over her shoulder as she begins to quickly walk out of the restaurant.

  Knowing if I let her leave now, she’ll never come back— I make my move.

  “Trouble,” I yell, stopping her in her tracks. I want her to fight me instead of running away. At least we’d be having some sort of conversation.

  It works because when she turns to face me, I see the venom in her eyes. Oh, I’m about to get it, alright. I haven’t seen that look in ten years and damn if it’s not turning me on.

  Moving back to where I’m standing, she elongates her five-foot frame trying to match my height. But at six-two, she only comes to my chest, and her finger is now jabbed into it.

  “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not interested.”

  My smile at her anger only fuels her fire.

  “What’s so funny, Tate? Is it funny to summon me here, making me think I was meeting with the owner of Jensen A & E? You’ve wasted my time as well as CJJ’s.”

  “Hen, please just give me fifteen minutes to explain everything. If you still want to leave after, then okay. I won’t like it, but okay.”

  It seems as if it takes her an hour to make her decision about whether to run or stay. I can see the war going on in her mind. Hennie bites her bottom lip, and I feel my dick move. I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to be inside her. We were too young to have sex before she left. Don’t get me wrong, we fooled around but never took it to the point of no return. Now, as adults, there isn’t anything I want more than to get Hennie in my bed.

  “Fifteen minutes, then I’m going to call both Catherine and Taylor and let them know you’re a fraud just like your father,” she snaps.

  I try not to let her words hurt me, but they do. She’s angry about what happened ten years ago, and she’s angry I tricked her into coming here, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need her both professionally and personally.

  Hennie moves around me, leaving me standing in the middle of our private dining room. She makes her way to the table, which I had set with her favorite flowers, a bottle of wine, and chocolate. I watch her as she takes in the table. With a reluctant sigh, she sits.

  I round the table and press the button, summoning the hostess.


  “Yes, Mr. Palmer?”

  Never taking my eyes off Hennie, I request service. “Please bring in our food. Ms. Marsh may have to leave earlier than expected.” God, I hope I’m wrong.

  Hennie removes her phone from her bag. “I’m setting the alarm for fifteen minutes, so you better get explaining.” She chirps as she tosses her phone on the table.

  “You’re gorgeous as hell, Hennie.”

  I don’t get a response other than her staring at the phone, watching the time count down.

  “Alright, then.” I clear my throat. “After you moved to California, I finished my equivalency diploma and went to community college. My Uncle Mike made sure of it.”

  The mention of my uncle gets Hennie’s attention as her eyes meet mine. She always did have a soft place in her heart for him.

  “How is Mike?”

  Shit! I knew I’d have to talk about it, but it still hurts.

  “He passed away three years ago from cancer.”

  I watch her throat bob up and down as she nods.

  “When he died, he left me the farm. While I was in college, I was fortunate enough to intern with Steven, the previous owner of this company. He offered me a job right out of college. He liked what he saw, so he groomed me to move up the ladder quickly. I couldn’t work on the farm and work in the city, so I decided to sell the farm. It was a difficult decision, and I felt guilty about it, but I truly believe Uncle Mike knew that’s what I’d do. About a month before I put the farm up for sale, natural gas was found on the one hundred fifty acres. Thankfully, I didn’t sell the farm before the discovery because I would’ve lost the twenty million dollar sale.”

  Hennie gasps at the amount, but then quickly recovers as if that number didn’t mean anything. “So, that’s how you could afford all this?” she asks as she waves her hand, alluding to the jet and the company.