Maddox: Vested Interest #3

by Melanie Moreland

  Normally, I would have agreed, but I saw how it made him feel. It was a different side of Aiden, softer and open, with the love he had for Cami. It made me feel odd, as if I were missing something.

  “Actually, Aiden,” I said quietly, “that’s pretty deep. Astounding, in fact.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is.” He leaned forward, excited. “I got her something too, but I haven’t given it to her yet.”

  “Oh?”

  “Darlene made me a ring for her. I picked it up this morning.”

  Darlene was a jewelry designer we knew who’d made Bentley an engagement ring for Emmy. Darlene specialized in high-end diamonds and custom work.

  “You want to see it?”

  I had to laugh at his eagerness.

  I held out my hand. “Give it over.” I flicked open the lid of the box and whistled. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. It’s spectacular. Cami is going to flip.”

  I glanced at it again, the brilliance of the stone stunning. “You asked about this cut when we were looking at rings for Bent.”

  “Yeah. I liked it a lot.”

  “You knew even then, Aiden?” I asked, curious, handing him the box. “You were in love with her?”

  He sighed and slid the box into his pocket. “I think I was, but I was too afraid to admit it. Too afraid to give someone else the chance to hurt me.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that with your wife. She adores you.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, she does. I’m glad she stuck around until I got my head out of my ass.”

  I reached into my drawer and pushed an envelope across the desk. “You can share this with her tonight. It can be a double celebration. Spare me the details tomorrow.”

  He opened the envelope and studied the contents. “What is this for?”

  “A wedding gift.”

  He frowned. “A trip to Hawaii?”

  I nodded. “It’s open. When school is done for Cami and you know the dates you want, I’ll book it for you. It’s all covered. Flights, villa, car.”

  “Maddox, this is more than generous. It’s not necessary either.”

  “I disagree. You got married and deserve a celebration. You never take time off unless it’s to rescue a damsel in distress, and you’ve earned it. Bent and I can handle this place for a couple of weeks. Take your wife and go away on a honeymoon.”

  “It has been a while. I remember you pointing out I took some time off four years ago. I don’t remember what I did, though.”

  “I do.”

  “Oh? Remind me.”

  “You were off because you insisted on eating tacos from a sketchy street vendor after a Leafs game. Bent and I warned you not to do it, but you wouldn’t listen. Your gas was far too much to handle in the office. Thank God.”

  His brow furrowed, then he began to laugh. “Oh, right. It wasn’t pretty.”

  “You overshared, even then.”

  He reclined, chuckling. He tapped the envelope. “Thanks, Mad Dog.”

  “I think Bent has something for you too.”

  He lowered his head, fiddling with the envelope. “You guys . . .”

  “We know.”

  Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at my door, and Jordan Hayes came in, holding a folder. He was the head of our team for Ridge Towers and oversaw every aspect of the project. An older man, he projected an air of calm and authority. He ran a tight crew, had great attention to detail, and didn’t believe in cutting corners.

  “Great news!”

  “What’s up?”

  “We got a whole bunch of building permits pushed through. We’re right on schedule—in fact, ahead at this point. We’ll be breaking ground in a few months.”

  Aiden and I exchanged grins. “You’re right, that is great news.”

  “I’ll send you projected dates and you can start your marketing plans.”

  “Thanks, Jordan.”

  With a wave, he left.

  “Bent will be happy to hear that news.”

  “Yeah, he will.” Aiden reached for the file folder he had carried in. “He wants to go ahead with his idea of exploring other companies for marketing. He wasn’t happy with the last firm.”

  “I know. Did you come up with some candidates?”

  “Yeah. I got the research done, made some inquiries, spoke to them myself, and narrowed it down. A few candidates looked good. One in particular.” He paused. “Are you sure you want to be involved with this aspect? You usually stick to the numbers side.”

  I pursed my lips in thought. He was correct, but lately, I’d wanted something different. Things in my department ran smoothly, and I found myself with extra time on my hands. Ridge Towers was going to be huge for us, and like Bentley, I wanted to make sure we had the best of everything for it. Including the marketing. The firm we’d used in the past had changed ownership, and we weren’t impressed with their new strategies or marketing plans.

  “Yeah, I need a new project. This is such an exciting event for us, and I want to be involved with you and Bent on it.”

  “Okay.” He handed me the folder. “Here’s our short list. We both have notes on the top three. You can speak to them and add your thoughts, and then we’ll start the process of face-to-face interviews, listening to their ideas, and picking one.”

  “Great.”

  “One is local. The other two are out of town. One of the firms stands out.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one based in BC—The Gavin Group. A family-run business. Great track record. I spoke with the owner and the guy who would be our rep. Straight shooter, no bullshit. Eager to hear about the project and create ideas.”

  “We’ve never gone outside the city before. Bent likes having someone close.”

  “That’s the added bonus. This group agreed to have a local person on hand at our disposal. We’d provide office space, and they’d provide the body until the contract is done.”

  “Great. I’ll read this through and make some calls.”

  “Okay. I’ll leave you to it.” Aiden stood, taking the envelope containing my wedding gift. “Thanks again, Maddox. Cami will love this.” He held out his hand. “I appreciate you thinking of us.”

  I shook his hand and he left.

  I spun in my chair, staring out the window.

  Us.

  I had never thought Aiden would be part of an us. Or Bentley.

  I wasn’t sure what I had thought. Given our various traumatic pasts, it seemed inevitable we would stay married to the business, none of us willing to put ourselves on the line on a personal level.

  But they had and were now happy.

  I turned back to my desk, my gaze sweeping around my well-appointed office. Its organized appearance calmed me. My days were busy and productive. I knew what to expect. I was always prepared and ready. I controlled my department tightly, the same way I controlled my emotions. I wouldn’t allow anyone to take away that control.

  That was what made me happy.

  Or at least, it used to.

  That evening, my phone rang, and I hit the speaker button, the file I had been reviewing open on my desk.

  “Maddox Riley,” I announced.

  “Richard VanRyan of The Gavin Group speaking.” A deep voice resonated over the line. “I believe you were expecting my call.”

  “Yes, Mr. VanRyan. Thanks for returning my call this evening.”

  “It’s Richard, please. You’re working late tonight.” He chuckled. “It’s past six here, so it’s going on past nine in Ontario, I believe.”

  “I’m working from home, yes. I wanted to get the initial call taken care of.”

  “Happy to be at your disposal. I’ve been reviewing your file. Quite the concept you have going with Ridge Towers.”

  “We’re proud of it.”

  “As you should be,” he stated. “I won’t take much of your time, Maddox. May I call you Maddox?”

  “Of course,” I murmured.

  “
As I said, I’ve gone through your file and looked at your project. I’ve spoken to both Aiden and Bentley and got a feel for what they’re looking for. Do you have anything else you want to add to the mix?”

  “Aside from the fact that this is a long-term deal and we want something classic and catchy that will carry the brand to its completion, not that I can think of right now. You do know you’re in the running with two other companies, yes?”

  He didn’t hide his laughter. “Trust me, I have every confidence we’re the company you’ll go with. I’ll make sure of it.”

  I liked his directness.

  “We want a face-to-face meeting.”

  “You name the time and date, and we’ll be there.”

  “You’ll come here?”

  “Aiden said you preferred that, so we’ll make it happen.”

  I glanced at my notes. The local company had insisted we come to them so they had the home-field advantage, and the other had agreed to come to us, though I had sensed some reticence.

  “Do you have any concepts?”

  “I have an entire campaign done.”

  Now, I was impressed.

  “And if we don’t like it?”

  “I’ll start again. However, I think you will. It ticks all your boxes. Classic, simple, but high impact. In addition, you’ll have us at your disposal for any changes, adjustments that you want to make. Here at The Gavin Group, our clients get the best. Every time.”

  I smirked at his bluntness, even as I felt a grudging respect for it. I sensed he wasn’t bragging—simply stating a fact. I had gone through all the notes Aiden and Bentley had made. I’d looked through the various examples of their campaigns, along with those from the other candidates. I had reviewed the stats Reid had pulled for us, which were impressive. The Gavin Group had ranked as the top pick for both Aiden and Bentley. I made a decision based on all the facts we had accumulated and my first instinct speaking to Richard.

  “I think we need to arrange that meeting.”

  “Excellent,” he responded. “I’ll get my assistant in touch with Sandy. We’ll figure out the best dates, and Graham and I will fly in.” He paused. “I’m going to bring Rebecca with us. She’s the woman who will be in Toronto as our liaison with you. I’ve been training her myself, and she’s perfect for the job. You can meet her and us, and we’ll go from there.”

  A chime sounded on my computer, and I glanced at the screen, smiling when I saw Dee’s face peering into the camera at my door. I pressed the key to unlock it and returned my attention to the call. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’ll be in touch. Have a good evening, Maddox.”

  “You as well, Richard.” I ended the call.

  I jotted a couple of notes on the file. We’d meet with the three candidates, but after speaking to all the reps, I liked what I had seen and heard from The Gavin Group.

  Dee appeared at my door, looking confused.

  “There you are!” She laughed. “I’m not used to the door unlocking and no one there.”

  “Sorry, I was on a call.” I tapped the screen. “I love this feature, I have to say.”

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all.” I waved my hand. “I need to finish this thought. Grab us a whiskey if you want.”

  A tumbler appeared in front of me as I flipped the file closed and tossed my glasses on top. Dee and I clinked glasses, and I took a deep sip of the amber liquid with appreciation. I studied her over the rim, taking in her shining hair and casual attire.

  She fidgeted under my scrutiny, lifting her thumb to her mouth. As I discovered that first day in the coffee shop, it was her biggest nervous trait. She worried at the skin of her thumb whenever she was upset or nervous. It hadn’t taken me long to notice her habit and to realize she often did it unconsciously.

  “What’s going on?”

  She scowled, dropping her hand. “Do I have to have a reason to drop by?”

  I chuckled and shook my head, although deep inside I hoped there was a reason. “No, simply wondering.”

  “Well, to be honest, I got tired of online shopping, and I fancied some company. Plus, I wanted to see if you would like to come to dinner tomorrow?”

  I was surprised. Dee never invited me to her place. “Dinner?”

  “I’m having Cami and Aiden for supper. His favorite food is fried chicken. I thought you might like to join us.”

  A home-cooked meal, good friends, and the pleasure of her company?

  “I would. Thank you.”

  She settled into her chair with a sigh. “Great.”

  “You don’t strike me as the type to online shop.”

  “Oh?” She laughed lightly. “What type am I?”

  “Tactile,” I answered promptly. “You’re the kind of person who would want to touch the fabric, feel the textures of something you purchase.”

  I knew that because I was the same way.

  She smiled in acknowledgement. “Normally, I would agree with you. But when it comes to this sort of shopping, I’m simply looking for serviceability that is in my budget.”

  “What are you shopping for?”

  “A desk, maybe a couple of shelves for the extra bedroom that was supposed to be Cami’s. I found a nice sofa bed in case I ever need it for company, but I want to add the rest.”

  I tapped the edge of my glass. Dee was fiercely independent. I knew she lived frugally and would never accept a handout, but I wanted to help her in any way I could. If making her comfortable in her new space was something I could do, I would make sure it happened.

  “We have an entire room of surplus desks and bookcases at the office. Chairs, file cabinets, you name it. I’ll take a look and send you some pictures. If there is something you like, it’s yours.”

  “Really?”

  “We remodeled some offices last year—the stuff is taking up space, and it’s all good quality. I remember one set in particular. I think you’d like it.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

  “Dee, something is constantly being remodeled. It’s unlikely we’ll ever use the pieces again. We let the staff go through it on occasion to thin it out. Liv uses a piece or two every once in a while, but often we donate it to a charity.” I shrugged. “But it builds back up. The room is full, so I know it’s time to get rid of some pieces again.”

  “Liv?”

  “Olivia—Liv. Our designer. She works with the residential side for the most part—Bentley’s house flips. But she’s done work on some of our bigger projects too. She handles all the décor, both inside and out. If she’s creating an office, she might dip into what we have, although she has her own warehouse of pieces.”

  “You guys have a lot of irons in the fire, don’t you?”

  “We do. Bentley has built quite the empire. Residential, commercial, real estate, holdings, investment properties. We have our own architects, builders, contractors . . . The list seems endless at times.”

  “And the three of you love it.”

  “We do.” I took another sip. “So let me send you a couple of pictures. If you like something, I’ll have it delivered.” I lifted an eyebrow. “No charge.”

  “I—”

  I shook my head. “No charge.”

  “Fine.” She huffed. “You’ll do it anyway.”

  Satisfied, I nodded, but I noticed she was still apprehensive.

  “Are you nervous about dinner tomorrow? You seem . . . tense.”

  “Nervous? No.” She laughed. “But it’s odd, you know? Having my sister and her husband for dinner. She’ll be a guest, and it struck me today, that’s how it’ll be from now on. She’s not coming home, since her home is with him, not me. She’ll be visiting. We’ll have dinner, and they’ll leave.” Her voice sounded strangely thick. “I thought having you there might help me.”

  “Dee,” I said quietly, waiting until she met my gaze. “I understand. I would love to join you. I like fried chicken too.”

  She blinked, and the
sight of her misty eyes did something to me. I knew she was struggling with the situation and hiding it.

  “What else can I do to help you?”

  “Nothing,” she assured me. “You coming for dinner and being able to come see you, helps. It really does.” She dropped her gaze to the floor, hiding her expression from me.

  I sipped my whiskey and set the glass to the side.

  “Deirdre.”

  Her head snapped up, her eyes meeting mine. “I think I know what else you need.” I pushed my chair back, widening my legs. “Come here.”

  She stood, and the action pulled her sweatshirt off her shoulder. Her creamy skin glowed in the light. She didn’t hesitate to come around the desk and stand in front of me, which pleased me.

  I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in tight. She clutched the back of my head to her stomach, restlessly combing her fingers through my hair. I absorbed the pleasure of her touch for a moment, then bunched up the material of her sweatshirt, kissing the smooth skin of her taut stomach with light touches of my mouth. I grinned as her muscles contracted under my lips. I stood, removing her sweatshirt and tossing it aside. Her breasts sprang free, and I cupped them in my hands, the fullness perfect in my palms. I teased her tight nipples, and her breathing picked up.

  “No pretty lace for me tonight?”

  “No,” she whispered, breathless.

  “I think you knew exactly what you needed when you came here.”

  She met my gaze, her wide green eyes brimming with desire.

  “I needed you.”

  I hovered over her mouth. “What did you need from me, Deirdre?”

  “I needed your cock. Inside me.”

  “Then that’s what you get.” I crashed my lips to hers, sweeping my tongue into her mouth. She clutched at my neck as I continued to tease her nipples, the buds erect and pushing against my fingers. I kissed her hard, needing her taste, wanting to feel her tongue wrapped around mine. I sucked and licked at her, biting her lips and teasing her breasts. She arched into my touch, whimpering low. I broke away, and before she could react, I spun her around. I ran my fingers down her arms, placing her hands on my desk and easing her torso down to the cold glass of the desktop.

  “Like this, Deirdre. Tonight, I’m having you like this.”