Candy King

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Candy King Page 8

by Christine d'Abo


  “It’s about time you showed up. You’re late.” Carl snapped the paper shut and stepped forward. “I’m sorry for the delay, Mr. Williams. Simone here is normally far more punctual than this, and it shouldn’t reflect poorly on the paper.”

  What the funky fresh hell was going on? She looked between the men and shrugged. “I…I’m sorry?”

  “Good. Now have a seat.”

  Simone cocked an eyebrow at Dylan when Carl turned his back on her. He flashed her one of his seductive smiles and moved behind one of the guest chairs. “Ms. Leblanc, I was just telling Carl here how impressed I was with your article on the last Toronto Marathon. You did an excellent job spotlighting the multigenerational family that had driven in from the Maritimes to participate. I knew when I saw that story that you were the right person for the job.”

  By the end of his speech, Simone had to sit down on the chair he’d pulled out for her, more due to shock than anything else. Dylan was here, pretending they’d never met before, talking about a piece she’d written months earlier, and asking her to write something for him. She knew things eventually would start to make sense. Any moment now.

  “Thanks.” She pulled her purse closer to her body. “What job are you talking about?”

  “His company is looking to open a special community building and wants our paper to do a piece on it.” Carl sat down behind his desk and glared at Simone. “So that little side project of yours needs to be shut down for the time being. This takes priority.”

  “Of course.” It should have felt overwhelming to have Carl act so aggressive with Dylan standing behind her shoulder. But instead his presence at her back was strangely reassuring. “I’ll make Mr. Williams’s story my focus.”

  Dylan stepped to the side and held out his hand. “Thank you, Miss Leblanc. And please call me Dylan.”

  She stood and shook his hand, her skin soaking in the heat from his touch. “I’m Simone.”

  “I’m sorry my arrival has changed things for you. But I knew after reading your piece that only you would be able to do justice to the opening of our new center.”

  There was a ton of subtext behind his words, but Simone was too confused to bother teasing out their meaning. “Thank you. It will be wonderful to sit down with you and learn more about what your goals are for the piece.”

  There was always an angle when someone approached them to do a community piece. Dylan might not want to be outed as the Candy King, but something obviously had changed from the last time they’d spoken for him to approach her to do this story.

  If she were going to be spending time with him anyway, she’d still have the chance to do her article on the sugar daddy site. Shit, if she could produce two stories for Carl, he’d have no choice but to give her better assignments.

  And if it meant she had to spend more time with Dylan, then that wasn’t exactly going to be a hardship for her.

  “Dylan, if you have time now, I’d love to sit down with you and get some background information on your project. It wouldn’t take long, and then I could arrange a longer meeting with your office at a more convenient time.”

  He didn’t look away, but something changed in his expression, and for the life of her, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It appeared to be attraction or maybe pure curiosity on his part—either way, something was going on between them. She was going to have to be extra cautious because she didn’t need the complication of a man in her life. If Carl even caught a whiff that there was something improper going on between them, she knew damn well that she’d be the one who’d be punished.

  No, everything about this interview—even her side project—had to be 110 percent professional. She couldn’t risk the setback.

  Dylan took out his phone and checked a few e-mails. “I have a meeting at one, but I have lots of time to get there. Let’s have a chat now.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to grab Mark as well?” Carl leaned back in his seat, his eyes darting between them. “As a backup. I’d hate for anything to fall through or for you to not get the story you were hoping for.”

  Simone cringed. Yes, she was used to her boss not showing much in the way of confidence in her abilities to do a good job, but having that vocalized so readily in front of a reader and now client hurt more than she’d ever admit aloud.

  “No, Simone’s style and ability to tell a compelling story are exactly what Williams Development needs. We need someone who can highlight the human element, and based on what I’ve read from your other reporters, she’s the best person for the job. But I can always go over to the Star and talk to–”

  “Simone will do an excellent job.” Carl was on his feet and ushering them out the door in a heartbeat. “There’s an empty conference room down the hall to the left. That would be the best place for you to talk. Simone, I expect you to keep me posted on your progress.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure it’s in my weekly status updates.” Her smile firmly in place, she motioned toward the room. “This way.”

  Dylan didn’t say anything until she shut the door, giving them a small measure of privacy, despite the large bank of windows that allowed people to see inside. “Your boss is an asshole.”

  “He can be old-fashioned. Carl just wants to make sure the paper is getting the best quality of work that it can. He still doesn’t quite get the whole online thing, but even he is slowly being dragged into the twenty-first century.”

  “That sounds like something you’ve said more than once. You shouldn’t have to make excuses for him.”

  Was she? Simone never even considered that she’d defended Carl. Whenever she said stuff like that, it always felt more like self-preservation. “He’s my boss. He’s the one who has the final say on what I get to report on. I have to play the game better than my male colleagues just to inch my way and maybe even the playing field.”

  “It doesn’t need to be that way. There are other papers, other online sites that would love to have a journalist of your abilities.”

  “You don’t even know what I write. But thank you for the vote of confidence.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t bullshitting him. I went back and read several of your stories last night when I realized we were going to need someone to do a story on the housing complex. I wanted to make sure you really were as good as I suspected you were before I came down here.”

  Simone shook her head. “You mean this story thing is real?”

  “Why did you think I came down?”

  “I…” That was a good question. “I don’t know. To give me a second shot at doing my story on your site? Because that would be the thing that Carl would have to acknowledge. I’d prove to him that I’m better than food truck and marathon stories.”

  He sat down on the edge of the conference table, causing his pants to pull tight against his thighs. Simone had to fight to keep from staring at what were clearly well-developed muscles. “Is that what you want?”

  God, there were so many things she wanted, things she had no doubt Dylan would be very, very good at delivering. “I want to make a name for myself.” And multiple orgasms.

  He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor as he frowned. “I read your message.”

  His voice had softened as his hands twitched. Dylan sucked in a breath before looking her in the eye and smiled. That single look, the naked desire she saw staring back at her was enough to send her heart racing to her throat.

  “Yeah, so I wasn’t anticipating ever seeing you again. Had I known you were in my boss’s office I never, ever would have sent that. I mean, I’d hate for you to think—”

  “How about we make a deal?”

  Get naked and fuck, then go out to dinner? She gave her head a shake. “What kind of deal?”

  “The housing development is going to be done in the next three or four months. We’re repurposing one of our existi
ng sites for use. You spend time with me, interviewing the people involved, the positive impact on the community, and all that. In those three or four months, I’ll agree to give you the information you want on the sugar daddy site. You can profile me, but I do not give you permission to reveal my name. I’ll simply be known as the Candy King. Everything else, though, I’ll agree is fair game. I’ll show you what that world is like and why I’ve done what I have.”

  Dylan stood again, and his very presence seemed to fill the room. Simone’s heart pounded with every step closer he took until she could barely breathe. Her hands shook at her sides in anticipation of…she didn’t know what. Him touching her was out of the question, and there was no way in hell she’d give in to this weird impulse to throw her hands around his neck and kiss him.

  No, no, no, that wasn’t happening.

  His gaze roamed her face before finally coming back to her eyes. There was a foot of distance between them, but as far as that look went, their bodies could have been pressed against one another. She licked her lips. “I can work with that.”

  “Good. Me too.” He held out his hand once more for her to shake. “I’ll have my secretary add you to the relevant meetings. And for every hour you spend working on this story, I agree to give you an hour on the website. Deal?”

  This time when she slipped her hand into his, there was no mistaking the connection between them. Simone shivered, unable to keep her gaze on his. “Deal. I’ll look forward to her e-mail.”

  She jumped when someone knocked on the window. A group of five people stood out in the hallway, looking in at them. “Shit, someone has the room booked.”

  Dylan finally dropped her hand and stepped back. “That’s fine. I think we’re done here anyway. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  And with a smile, he left.

  Simone didn’t move immediately, even when the people from the hall filed into the conference room. It wasn’t until Connie from accounting came up beside her that she also realized she’d been staring after Dylan.

  “Who the hell was that, and when are the two of you going out?”

  “Dylan Williams and never.”

  Connie snorted. “I haven’t seen that much eye-fucking in years. If you don’t do something about that, I’m seriously worried for you.”

  “Carl would fire me in half a second if he even suspected I’d do something like that.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first person to fall for someone you did a story on. I’m sure he’d adjust.”

  “Not with me, he wouldn’t.” Wrapping her arms around herself, Simone looked behind her. “Sorry, I’ll leave you guys to it.”

  Simone headed straight for the bathroom because there was no way she’d be able to focus on work until she cooled the hell off. She was going to have to come up with a plan to check her libido if she was going to survive the next few months.

  Because, sexy source or not, she wasn’t going to jeopardize her job for anything. Not even for the chance to sleep with Dylan Williams.

  Chapter 9

  It was probably a bit childish, but Dylan made sure that he didn’t see Simone for at least a week after their initial meeting. Sure, he probably could have had her come to one of the planning meetings, if for no other reason than it would have provided good background on what they were hoping to accomplish with the project. He could have, but after their brief exchange in the conference room, he knew there was no way he could see her again that soon. He’d been hard as a fucking rock for an hour after he’d left the paper, to the point where he’d considered jerking off in the bathroom when he’d gotten back to the office. He’d managed to get himself under control before it had come to that, but clearly, he was going to need some space before inflicting Simone on himself once again.

  And then there was the app.

  While he might not have seen her in person over the past few days, he could feel her presence on his phone. He’d kept every message they’d ever shared, loathe to delete them. He’d told himself it was for his own safety, to have a record of what she’d said just in case he ever needed some protection. It was a lie, especially after the message she’d sent after she thought they’d never talk to one another again.

  He’d been looking for an excuse to not talk to Carl for even a few more minutes when he’d pulled out his phone to read whatever message had come through. When he saw it was from her, his curiosity was more than he could resist, and he opened it up.

  Arousal and sympathy were an odd combination for him to have experienced at that moment. And yet that was precisely what he’d felt. He’d wanted nothing more than to track her down and pull her into a hug—which was so unlike him, the thought was more than a little terrifying.

  Simone’s boss was rough around the edges and apparently wasn’t convinced Simone knew what she was doing. No wonder she’d been trying as hard as she could to do the sugar daddy story. Though Dylan couldn’t help but think it was a shame. Simone had a real knack for getting to the heart of a story. He really had enjoyed the marathon article she’d done, so it hadn’t been a hard sell at all when he’d told his dad about his plan.

  Having seen her and spent time with her, Dylan couldn’t help but want to help her, even if that meant putting his own reputation at risk.

  And that wasn’t like him at all.

  Somehow, he knew that Simone wasn’t a threat to him. While she was up front about wanting to make a name for herself, she was too conciliatory, too kind and accommodating to print anything without his permission. The problem was, spending time with her, keeping her in his orbit on a regular basis was going to be hell on his libido.

  That woman was able to pull out lustful thoughts from him in a way he hadn’t experienced in years. The prospect of amazing sex with her was excellent, but there was something else about her that attracted him. She made him smile, even laugh, in a way that he’d never admit to another human being. Their moments of easy flirting had quickly become the bright spots in his day, and now that they had stopped, Dylan found himself missing them.

  Missing her.

  And those feelings could only lead to disaster.

  “Hey, are you even listening to me?”

  Dylan looked over to where Jonathan was standing at the work site. “Sorry. Say it again?”

  “We’re going to need to gut the kitchen for sure, turn it into something a bit more industrial to be able to handle twelve people.” Jonathan strode around the work site, blueprints rolled up in his hand as he spoke over the noise. “I’ve done up a design that I think will work, but I need you to look at the budget to see if I’ve gotten too close to the wire.”

  It had been a long time since he’d seen Jonathan this excited about a work project. His brother was a gifted architect, but since his last divorce, he’d been less enthused about work. Now he was sporting a smile that could power a small city for a year.

  “I’m sure you’ve taken everything into account.” Dylan was the numbers guy, which was critical to the project’s success, but far less sexy a job. “We’ll look everything over at tomorrow’s update meeting.” He looked at the door, half expecting Simone to be there, waiting for him. She wasn’t.

  “Is someone late?” Jonathan bobbed him on the head before tucking the blueprints back under his arm. “You keep looking at the door.”

  “The reporter from the Record is supposed to stop by today. She’s the one I mentioned last week who’s going to help us put a spotlight on this and drum up business so Sarah’s dream project gets off the ground.”

  “Not just her dream. I happen to believe in this as well.” Jonathan shook his head, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “It’s going to be great for everyone. It’s about time we did another project for the city. Toronto has given our family a lot, and we need to make sure we’re repaying the favor.”

  “That sounds like Sarah talking.” Not that she wasn’t righ
t, but it was utterly fascinating to hear his brother parroting the words.

  “It does, but I agree with her.” Jonathan’s gaze drifted off to the side as he smiled. “She’s really helped me see things with fresh eyes. Not only Toronto but our family, myself, everything. It’s refreshing.”

  And if Dylan hadn’t seen his brother in love before now, he might believe things were different this time. But this was marriage number three for him, and within a few years, Dylan knew that Jonathan would show up in tears, his heart in tatters because something horrible had happened and he was now on his own.

  That was the way of the Williams family, and Dylan long ago vowed never to fall into that trap.

  “Excuse me, is Dylan here?”

  At the sound of Simone’s voice, his cock went hard. Jonathan straightened, gave him a smug look that made Dylan want to punch him, and marched over to Simone. “Hey, I’m his brother Jonathan. I’m the lead on this project. Great to meet you.”

  Dylan braced himself before he turned around to see her, knowing he would have to be extra vigilant to keep himself in check. It was a good thing he did because the dark green shirt Simone wore clung to her breasts and waist in a way that should be illegal. Not to mention the way the black skirt hugged her hips and thighs. She was professionally dressed, with her blond hair piled high on her head and her black-rimmed glasses drawing attention to her cheekbones.

  Her drink-stained purse was draped over her shoulder, a reminder of the night they’d met. Why she hadn’t gotten rid of it or replaced it with another bag was beyond him. He wasn’t a sentimental person, but the bag must have some deeper meaning beyond a fashion item.

  She smiled as she shook Jonathan’s hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve been reading up on the project, and I have to say I think this is going to be perfect for this community. The world definitely needs more zen in our lives. And people with mental health challenges need to have more safe places where they can live.”

  It was fascinating to watch her interact with others. She had an easy way about her that seemed to put everyone at ease and drew out their smiles. Except for her boss, Simone seemed to be able to do that with just about everyone. Even he wasn’t immune to her bubbly charm. When Jonathan lifted her hand to kiss the back of it, Dylan immediately crossed the room to them.

 

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