Sylvie’s gaze shifted to Stephan, and she straightened the glasses on her nose. “I believe Roselle can speak for herself.” She returned her attention to Roselle. “How was the nonbusiness part of the trip?”
“Excellent. I saw a lot of tourist attractions and filled up on delicious food,” Roselle answered.
“I see. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
Roselle shifted in the chair and crossed her legs.
Stephan’s skin prickled at the sight of her bare knee, calves, and ankles—cinnamon-brown body parts his hands and mouth had become intimately familiar with over the course of two nights.
“Paris was truly amazing. I’d love to go back when I have more time,” Roselle said.
Why was she smiling so much? What the hell did she have to be so goddamn happy about?
He’d been in a foul mood all weekend, thinking about their last conversation at the breakfast table and how she’d more or less blown off their time together. Granted, he hadn’t expected them to have a relationship, and he’d prepared a speech where he’d let her know that what happened in Paris had to stay in Paris.
But then she’d hijacked the conversation and spoken so casually about their time together, he’d not only been thrown off guard, he’d been pissed. He was still pissed. They’d spent a lot of time together, and it meant nothing to her?
“My son took good care of you?” Sylvie asked.
“Yes, he did.”
Roselle’s voice had gone a little softer and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Sylvie didn’t seem to notice the change in her voice, but he sure did. It reminded him of their last night together.
With his back against the headboard, she sank onto his hard shaft reverse-cowgirl style, nestling her bottom onto his pelvis. Back arched, head thrown back so her eyes looked up at the ceiling, she’d ridden him hard. Her whispers of pleasure still echoed in his ears as she moaned about how much she enjoyed it, how she never wanted him to stop. Then she panted, “Oh, oh,” as she came.
“What other information do you have for me?” Sylvie asked.
“Their stores are pristine, and in great locations. Management and staff are very knowledgeable, and we observed a lot of hand-selling with their customers,” Roselle said.
“Sounds like you think we should work with them,” Sylvie said.
“They would be a good partner,” Roselle said with confidence.
“What about you, Stephan? I know you’re new at this, but what was your impression?”
Stephan repositioned in the chair, hoping his semi-erect penis didn’t get any harder. “I feel the same as Roselle. I got a good feeling from them. They’re very professional, too. No negatives that I saw.”
“In that case, I’ll relay your thoughts to Marcus, and we’ll get business development and the legal department involved to start working on a deal. Thank you both.”
Roselle and Stephan rose from their chairs and walked out of Sylvie’s office. They passed through the reception area, giving a brief greeting to her assistant, before entering the elevator.
They rode down in silence, standing a few feet away from each other.
He smelled her perfume and wanted to reach for her. Wanted to press his nose to her neck and indulge in the fragrance in full.
“My mother seemed pleased,” he said.
“Yes, I agree.”
When the doors opened on their floor, she went left without another word. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Stephan gritted his teeth and headed back to his office, determined to get Roselle Parker out of his mind.
He was staring at her.
Stephan’s gaze burned her skin from the other side of the table. She wrote an unnecessary note on a page of her legal pad, hoping she appeared nonchalant. If he continued to look at her like that, everyone would guess what they’d done in Paris—and that she wanted to do it again. And again. And again.
“That’s all for now. We can reconvene in another month once we’ve had a chance to talk to legal,” said Marcus, the VP of business development. He was an older Black man, with a barrel-sized torso and his thick Afro and circle beard dotted with gray hairs.
A low murmur went up from the group as they stood and gathered up their tablets and pads. Roselle avoided eye contact with Stephan and walked out of the room alongside Jayson, who worked in business development. Their department was separated into geographic locations, and Jayson covered Canada and the United States, while Stephan learned as much as possible about all the territories.
Jayson was a good-looking guy about her age, with a goatee and friendliness that appeared anxious at times.
“Dress for the job you want and not the job you have,” he’d told her once, and every day he wore a suit and tie. He aspired to be the next VP of business development when Marcus retired, but with Stephan working in that department now, his chance of taking over the role had probably taken a nose dive.
Ever since she’d come back from Paris, he’d been friendlier, and he’d asked a bunch of questions about her trip. She kept to the basics, only telling him about the meetings on the first day and her sightseeing on the second day. She excluded how she’d partied with Stephan and spent two nights in his arms.
“You have lunch plans?” Jayson asked in a low tone as they walked down the hall.
Roselle glanced at him. This was the second time he’d asked her about lunch. The first time he’d caught her coming back from Subway and said if he’d known she was eating alone, he would have joined her.
Stephan had seen them coming in as he was leaving out, and she’d glimpsed a healthy dose of disapproval in his face. She’d sent him a text right afterward, feeling like she needed to explain herself, though nothing was going on between her and Stephan or her and Jayson.
Roselle: Jayson and I didn’t have lunch together.
Stephan: Ur a free woman. U can do whatever you want.
The dismissive response had been disappointing. Heart crushing.
“I’m eating lunch at my desk,” she told Jayson.
“Too bad. Maybe another time?”
“Um, maybe.”
She needed to be more direct, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
She went down the hall to the break room. Marcus was long-winded, so the meeting had gone over an hour when it should have lasted only thirty minutes. She hadn’t had the forethought to take in a drink and was dying of thirst. She set her pad and pen on one of the round tables in the room, got a paper cup, and went over to the water dispenser.
She sensed the moment she was no longer alone, and though he didn’t utter a word, she knew the person who’d entered was Stephan. His walk was distinctive. No one else moved like him.
Roselle turned around to face him. Today he wore a powder-blue shirt and dark slacks. Casually dressy, but the way he emanated power, he might as well have been wearing a three-piece Brioni suit.
“You have a new friend, I see,” he remarked.
His face was impassive, so she had no idea what he was thinking. Like his mother, he was a master at hiding his emotions.
“Who?” she asked, feigning ignorance.
“Your boy, Jayson. You two seem mighty close all of a sudden.”
She shrugged. “So?”
Why was he questioning her? He’d made it plain that she was free to do as she wanted, and though Jayson held no interest for her, perhaps she’d find someone else besides Stephan to occupy her thoughts.
She’d gone out with her roommate for the first time last weekend. A surgeon and his partner who lived in Grant Park had thrown a house party. Most of the guests worked in the medical field, and one of them—a doctor—had taken a particular interest in her. After she’d relaxed, he kept her attention with stories about the antics of some of his patients.
“The two of you seem kind of cozy, that’s all,” Stephan remarked.
Roselle turned away from him and poured water into the cup. “What do you care?” she asked.
She swung around in surprise. “I’m not playing games. I texted you, and you let me know that you don’t care what I do.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But that’s what you meant, so I’m confused as to why you’re so interested in what Jayson and I are up to.”
“So you’re up to something?” he asked swiftly as if he’d caught her in a lie.
What was happening?
“That’s my business.” Roselle strode past him, but he grabbed her arm and water sloshed over her hand and onto the floor.
“Be careful with that guy.”
“Why?”
“Something about him bugs me.”
“He’s a nice guy.”
“He’s trying too hard with his overly-friendly schtick.”
“You wanted to be my friend at one time, remember? Since when is being friendly a problem?”
“Since he’s being friendly with you.”
“Now you’re the one playing games.” Roselle tugged her arm away, but the sensation of his touch remained as vivid as if he continued to hold her. “You’re one of those guys. I don’t want you, but I don’t want anyone else to have you. Well, guess what? We both agreed to the rules, and we both have to stick to them. Please don’t bother me again about who’s being friendly with me. Leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Roselle took up her pen and notepad and stalked out, immensely satisfied by the angry expression on Stephan’s face. She was not going to be jerked around by him or anyone else. If he thought she’d be falling all over him like the girls in his Instagram photos, he had another think coming.
Chapter 16
With a grunt of disgust, Stephan shoved the document away that Marcus had given him to read. He’d reread the same paragraph three times and didn’t comprehend the words any more than he did during the first read.
He thought about Paris all the time, or more specifically, Roselle. They’d returned from the trip over two weeks ago, and every time he saw her, he ached to touch her or bury his face in her scented neck. The urge to do so made his stomach hurt, as if a hole had opened in his gut, one that he couldn’t close with any other woman because he didn’t want another woman. He only wanted her.
And he didn’t want anyone near her. That was his other problem. He definitely wasn’t handling his jealousy well. One day when he was leaving out, he saw her coming into the building with Jayson. It was around lunchtime, so he assumed they’d had lunch together and the thought filled him with seething envy.
She was laughing so hard, he’d been a bit taken aback because he’d thought that expression had been reserved only for him. His ego had been crushed, thinking that maybe he wasn’t that special.
As usual, Jayson had been particularly annoying. Since Stephan started working there, Jayson had constantly been in his face, being way too friendly. If he wasn’t overly cheerful in the halls, he’d stop by Stephan’s office and spend a few minutes talking about nothing in particular and including the occasional crass joke. Stephan’s lack of enthusiasm didn’t deter him, either. He reminded Stephan of a certain kind of person he sometimes encountered who was eager to please and thought the way to do it was by getting close to those in power and making inappropriate comments. There was no doubt in his mind that Jayson thought becoming friends with Sylvie Johnson’s son was the right move.
When he saw Jayson and Roselle coming in from lunch, he’d had an unsettling urge to punch the guy, and all he’d done was greet Stephan with a smile.
Then there was the text she sent explaining about Jayson, and he’d sent a dickish response he now regretted. In all honesty, his feelings for Roselle was detrimental to his sanity. It was an obsessive compulsion to hold and guard and keep. He’d never been so possessive about a woman before. It was unhealthy, but he couldn’t rein in his out-of-control emotions.
Two days and two nights. That’s all it was. So why couldn’t he let it go?
Stephan pushed away from the desk and looked around the boring office. His mother was really making him earn his keep. Most of the staff had painted their walls in some form or fashion—either all four walls or adding an accent wall. Sylvie had informed him that he could not paint the walls or get new furniture since she didn’t know if he was staying. He had to spend every day in a boringly monochromatic office with white walls and slate gray furniture.
He stood, stretched, and then left the office. He needed to get out of the building. It was after five on a Friday, and he wouldn’t get any more work done. Maybe he’d make some phone calls to invite over female company this weekend to take his mind off Roselle.
First, he’d get a soda in the break room and then head out.
When he stepped into the break room, who should he see but annoying old Jayson, standing at the drinks machine. He almost backed out of the room, but Jayson turned around and saw him.
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Hey.” Stephan greeted him less enthusiastically.
“You go ahead. I don’t know what I want yet.” Jayson stepped aside.
Stephan walked up to the machine and reviewed the options.
“So… you and Roselle, are you…?”
His shoulders tensed. “Are we what?”
“Are you hitting that?”
Stephan’s entire body stiffened. He’d bragged about his sexual exploits before, but never to someone who was essentially a stranger and he didn’t like that the conversation was about Roselle.
He slowly turned around and faced Jayson. “What did you say?”
“You hitting that? Because she’s a tough nut to crack. I’ve been trying to talk to her since she came back from Paris. I don’t know what it is, but she seems different, but she won’t accept any of my invitations to lunch, and she said she doesn’t have a man. I figured she must be hooking up with somebody, and before the trip to Paris, I know you guys were having lunch together.”
Stephan really couldn’t believe this guy’s audacity. One, for him to question him about Roselle, and two, his inability to read the temperature in the room. He quickly assessed Jayson, sizing him up and figuring out that he would be easy to intimidate. He wasn’t quite six feet tall, and while he had a muscular body, he was smaller than Stephan.
“So because she won’t give you the time of day, there must be someone else, and you assume that’s me.”
Jayson appeared uncertain all of a sudden, no longer wearing a sly, knowing grin.
“Listen, man, if I read the situation wrong—”
“Yeah, you read the situation all wrong.”
“Guess I’ll still shoot my shot then.” Jayson laughed. “Between you and me, I like the quiet ones. They’re the ones who surprise you in bed, you know? I bet Roselle is full of surprises.” The sly grin came back, and he nudged Stephan with an elbow to solicit agreement, but that was the last straw.
Stephan was irritable, cranky, and in a bad mood in general. The last thing he wanted was to deal with this guy and his offensive comments. He shoved Jayson against the wall and gripped the lapels of his suit jacket. Jayson’s eyes widened as Stephan brought his face within inches of his.
He spoke in a low, lethal voice. “I’m not your buddy, I’m not your man, I’m not your partner, so stop talking to me like we’re friends. And definitely don’t talk to me about Roselle Parker ever again. Matter of fact, stay away from her. She’s too good for you.”
He released Jayson and stalked out. Then he remembered he never purchased the drink he went in there for. He turned around and went back in. Jayson remained against the wall, his brow furrowed as if he were confused about what had taken place.
Stephan glared at him, and he straightened up, eyeing Stephan warily as he went to the machine. He slid a bill into the machine’s slot and punched the soda he wanted. He glared at Jayson one more time for good measure and walked out.
Still fuming, he rode the elevator to the first floor and left t
he building. On the sidewalk, he came to a complete stop and forced pedestrians to go around him.
Speak of the devil.
Roselle was rushing toward the bus. Earlier she wore a pair of burgundy slacks and a cream-colored blouse. Now she wore high heels and a tight-fitting skirt that showed off the curves of her slim hips and cupped the shape of her butt. He was jealous of that skirt because it had permission to hold and mold against her body.
Damn, she looked sexy.
Why had she changed, and where was she going?
She climbed into the bus, and he watched it drive away.
Suddenly, the idea of calling another woman for company didn’t hold the same appeal.
Roselle had his mind all messed up. Wherever she was going, that’s where he wanted to be.
Chapter 17
Roselle marched into Stephan’s office and slammed the door. She winced. She hadn’t meant to close it that hard.
Stephan, standing over at the credenza, swung around from his task of rummaging through some pages. He scowled at her. “Nice entrance.”
Roselle squared her shoulders and dived deep into the tough girl act she’d perfected. “We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“About Jayson. Did you warn him away from me?”
Stephan snorted. “He told you? Punk.” He turned back to the credenza and resumed flipping through the stack of papers.
“Excuse me, but this is important. Can I have your attention, please?”
Stephan turned to face her with eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry, Madame Parker. Please, continue.”
He rested his butt against the edge of the credenza, folded his arms over his chest, and crossed his legs at the ankles. He looked relaxed and at ease, but he also appeared rather sexy with the muscles under his shirt bunching and hinting at the tightness of his body.
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