Outwait

by Lisa Suzanne

  She looks skeptical, but she nods.

  “This is off the record.”

  She nods again.

  “This is my father’s deal. He wants to acquire Baker and expand into the southwest. He wants our high-speed internet to be in every single home in America, and our western quadrant is lacking. He wants the monopoly, and he wants it before he retires. I’m next in line to be King’s CEO, so he sent me to do his bidding.”

  “There are companies much bigger than Baker that you could target.”

  “Believe me, they’re all on his radar, but he’s been a shareholder in Baker for years and is not happy with the projections, so this is where he’s starting. Can I ask you a question?”

  She nods.

  “Do you work for Baker?”

  “I’m the VP of operations.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “That’s a ridiculous question.”

  “Are you attracted to me?”

  “That’s even more ridiculous.”

  “Is it? Or is the answer to both of those questions the same?”

  She reddens but doesn’t answer, and that’s all the response I need to forge ahead.

  “I’m attracted to you, Sylvie. When you whirled into my boardroom this morning, it was like I woke up from a lifetime of sleeping.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Why? Am I making you uncomfortable with the truth?”

  “Yes, you are, and it’s not the truth. You don’t even know me.”

  “I know how attraction works, and I know there’s something here between us.”

  “I have a boyfriend.”

  “You’re not wearing a ring. That’s all I need to know.”

  She looks highly offended. “I’m taken. Happily.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Her eyes flash with anger, and it only serves to heighten my attraction to her. “Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, what makes you think I’d ever, ever go for someone like you?”

  “Ooh, a challenge. I like it.”

  “It’s not a challenge, Carson.”

  “Say my name again.”

  “You are such an arrogant prick.”

  “You want to talk about my prick?”

  “God, there is literally no dealing with you. I should sue you for harassment.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I think if you really hated me, you wouldn’t want to see me again. But instead, you haven’t stopped thinking about me since you walked into my boardroom this morning.” I’m taking a bit of a gamble, but the truth is that I haven’t stopped thinking about her, not even for a second. She’s intriguing, and that’s a very rare trait for me to find in a woman.

  “You’re delusional.”

  “Go out with me again. I won’t even expense it. My treat.”

  She rolls her eyes. “No.” She takes a long sip of her wine, and I note that her hands are shaking just slightly. Her nostrils flare, but her eyes say it all.

  Our dinner hasn’t even arrived yet, and her hands are already shaking. She’s somewhere between furious with me for being an asshole and furious at herself for liking it. I’ve got her exactly where I want her, and I’m almost positive I’ll end up in her hotel room with her.

  “No because you’re heading back to San Diego? I can come there to take you out if it’s easier. I need to do some work with King Contributions anyway, and I’ll need to get started on integrating Baker.”

  She huffs out a mirthless laugh. “No because I have a boyfriend.”

  The waiter delivers our food. I can’t look away from Sylvie, though—not at my plate, not at the waiter, not anywhere but her. She’s the center of my vision tonight.

  “You keep mentioning him, yet you flew all this way to see me without him.”

  “Because he has a job to do.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?”

  “He’s a lawyer.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Impressive. You know what they say about lawyers, don’t you?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard them all.”

  “What do lawyers use for birth control?”

  She shrugs.

  “Their personalities.”

  “William has a great personality,” she says, but there’s little actual defensiveness to her tone.

  “What’s the difference between a lawyer and a prostitute?”

  She rolls her eyes again.

  “A prostitute stops fucking you when you’re dead.”

  “That’s a bad joke, even for someone like you.”

  “For someone like me?” I point to my chest and give her my best expression of innocence.

  She chuckles but hides her smile behind her glass of wine. She takes another sip, and I want the sommelier to come over and fill that glass back up. I’d love to see her loosen up a bit with a little wine running through her system.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I just mean you seem better than cheap lawyer shots.”

  “That’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me.” I don’t miss the irony that it was in defense of her boyfriend. I can’t tell if I’ll get her into my bed easier by getting her to open up about him or by ignoring the fact that he exists. I take a chance. “So how long have you and the lawyer been together?”

  “Two years.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “That’s an awfully personal question for a business dinner.”

  “My apologies, but just so you know, that answer makes it seem like you don’t.”

  “Of course I do!” She’s exclaiming, and I immediately wonder if it’s because she has to. I see a crack in the armor she’s putting up, and I intend to make that crack into a big, gaping hole.

  Speaking of gaping holes… “The sex is good?”

  Her hand flies to her chest in surprise. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I’m not sorry. My goal was to get her to think about sex, and mission accomplished. She’s flushed and warm, and she picks up her glass of wine for a bit of relief.

  On cue, the sommelier comes over to refill her glass. I’m pacing myself, allowing her to take the bottle without even realizing it. I can drink more later if I want, but I might not get more alcohol into her.

  I cut into my perfectly cooked steak, and she sets down her glass and stares at her chicken.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  She looks up at me and clears her throat. “Yes. I’m just not very hungry.”

  Because she’s thinking about the boyfriend. She’s comparing him to me in her mind, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he isn’t winning.

  “Can I get you anything? Some water maybe?”

  She shakes her head and picks up her fork. “I’m fine. Can we go back to talking about the company?”

  “Of course.”

  “What will you do if we dilute the shares?”

  “You won’t. You can’t afford it.”

  “But you can.”

  I nod. “King Communications is worldwide, sweetheart. I don’t mean to sound condescending, but there’s little you can do to stop this takeover.”

  She nods. “And my father—will you keep him in his position?”

  “He can’t be president, but he’ll still have a role.”

  “Why can’t he be president?”

  “Because that position will cease to exist. Besides, he’s a dinosaur. What he’s doing is no longer profitable, and once we acquire rights, we’ll reorganize and get you profitable again.”

  “What about my position?”

  “You can have whatever position you want.” I say it with heavy sexual innuendo and give her my lazy grin.

  She looks uncomfortable. “Coming here was a waste of my time.”

  “It’s good business, Sylvie,” I say softly. “It shows how passionate you are. It shows how much the company means to you. It show
s you’re willing to stop at nothing to fight for what you feel is right.”

  She moves her fork around her chicken but doesn’t actually eat any of it. “Which is all fine and well, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got more money and more power than me and there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s business. It’s not personal.” She looks up at me. “If it was, I’d try to stop it for you.”

  She drops her fork. “Why?” she whispers.

  “Do you really want the answer to that?”

  She nods.

  “Think long and hard before you say yes. Is this a conversation the boyfriend would be okay with?”

  “Forget about him for a minute. Why would you try to stop it for me?”

  Forget about him for a minute. Her words tell me she’s the one forgetting about him, which places her right in the palm of my hand.

  “Because, Sylvie, I was serious before when I said you walking into that room this morning woke me up.” Now it’s my turn to feel uncomfortable. I’m rarely—if ever—this honest about my feelings. Maybe it’s because I never actually have these kinds of feelings. “Everything that was black and white is suddenly all these vibrant shades of color.”

  She takes another sip of wine before she responds. When she does, her voice is full of venom. “I hate you.”

  I nod and press my lips together, suddenly very sure this evening isn’t going to end with me inside her. “I don’t doubt that. I wish you didn’t. I wish we were meeting under different circumstances, that you were single, that we could have some fun tonight, but clearly that’s not an option.”

  I’m still up for that hate fuck I thought about earlier, but her words and the truth behind them take a serious shot at my confidence. I have a pretty strong inclination why I’m not ending up in her bed tonight, not because of the boyfriend, and not because I’ve been a cocky dick, but because of the company. It’s not just her job that’s at stake—it’s her father’s job, her family and their pride, and I look like the guy who’s swooping in to take it all away from them. Well, technically I am the guy who is doing that, but not because I want to.

  “Can I be honest with you for a second?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “This stays between us.”

  She nods again.

  “I don’t want to be CEO of King.”

  It’s the first time I’ve ever spoken it aloud to another person, and I have no idea why it’s to Sylvie. Maybe because she can relate—she understands the expectations when it comes to family business. But she’s a competitor. She’s the opposition. She shouldn’t know this truth about me—it’s dangerous for her to have that knowledge. Yet, there it is, laid out for her to use in whatever way she wants.

  She looks surprised. “You don’t?”

  I shake my head.

  “Does your father know? Does anyone at King know?”

  I shake my head again. “You’re the only person I’ve ever admitted it to.”

  “Why?”

  “Why don’t I want it? Or why did I admit it to you?”

  “Both.”

  “It’s never been my dream or my passion. It’s been expected of me my entire life. I was groomed for it, and now it’s a freight train I can’t stop. I hate confrontation, and I’m terrified to tell my dad it’s not what I want. It was stupid to tell you, but I feel like I’m taking something from you, so I wanted to give you something to take from me.”

  Her eyes soften, and suddenly I get the feeling she doesn’t hate me as much as she did a few seconds ago.

  CHAPTER 7

  SYLVIE

  I stare across the table at Carson, completely dumbfounded. Did he really just admit his deepest, darkest secret to me?

  There’s not a single redeeming quality to this man, yet I find myself insanely attracted to him.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t totally captivated by him. He’s hot…maybe the hottest guy I’ve ever sat across the dinner table from.

  William is handsome, definitely. He has a nice body from spending time on the treadmill as he reads through legal briefs.

  But a little part of my brain has to admit that Carson’s hot on a completely different level. He’s every woman’s dream with his lush, dark hair and eyes framed by long lashes, but it’s not just his looks. He’s an asshole, but he’s got this way about him that draws me in anyway. The way he holds himself with all that arrogant cockiness tells me he’s clearly a womanizer. Men don’t walk around with all that swagger if they aren’t actually getting it anywhere, any time they want.

  And he’s directing that attention at me tonight. It’s clear he wants to sleep with me, but I can’t tell if half of what he says is truth or just a ploy to get me into bed. He’s impossible to read.

  Unfortunately for him, I’m a faithful girlfriend. I love William, and I’m not about to ruin what I have with him because some asshole in a different zip code across the country finds me to be an enticing challenge.

  Despite all that, though, I find myself enraptured by Carson. Maybe it’s the wine—it’s probably the wine. I honestly didn’t even realize I was drinking it until I started to feel the haze wine always gives me. As a general rule, I don’t drink at business dinners. It’s not professional. I read my clients, and if they’re having a drink, I order one and nurse it through the night to make them feel more at ease. Tonight, I’ve had more than one. In fact, I’ve lost count. The guy keeps filling my glass and I keep emptying it. Besides, nothing about my meeting with Carson has been professional, and when I absentmindedly picked up my glass at the start of the meal, I found it hard to put it down. I find myself becoming more accepting of Carson as a person as I take in more wine, and his last confession has me speechless.

  And his words…I feel like I’m taking something from you, so I wanted to give you something to take from me.

  How do I respond? And why is he trusting me, of all people, with this information? Why is he giving me a piece of himself to take?

  It makes no sense. I could easily use it to try to block what he’s doing to my own family’s company, but I’m not convinced it would matter.

  Surely I can find a way to use it against him—to ruin him the way he’s ruining me—but I’m not sure I want to. I’ve never been into petty revenge. I’m not just rolling over and taking it; I’m acting like an adult. Someone has to.

  Maybe Carson can learn from a good example.

  “Oh,” I finally say. I have no idea how to respond. I know something about Carson King that no one else in the world knows, and that knowledge is power, but I want to keep it a secret—I want to protect it and hold it.

  And I don’t know why. It’s both terrifying and confusing that I want to protect him.

  When our meal is over, I find myself disappointed. I want to keep talking to him. I want more insight into this person I know nothing and everything about.

  He takes care of the check, and my disappointment deepens. I didn’t accomplish the goal I set when I decided to fly across the country to New York, and on top of that, I’m in this weird place where I feel like I’m sort of on a date with another man.

  It feels wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this—or, even if it’s okay since William knows, I most certainly shouldn’t be enjoying it.

  William is so even-tempered. He knows where my buttons are, and he knows not to push them.

  Part of me likes the odd dynamic of Carson pushing my buttons.

  William keeps things on the straight and narrow. We never argue because we agree on just about everything—odd since he’s a lawyer, I know. He’s my other half, or so I’ve always thought.

  Or maybe all this time I’ve been the one backing down to allow him to be right. I don’t know.

  I never thought about it until tonight.

  I feel like I’ve argued my way through this entire evening, and it’s somehow refreshing.

  I hate this Carson person. He’s tearing apart my family business withou
t a damn care in the world. He’ll move on to the next company after he hurricanes his way through mine. He’ll leave destruction in his wake, and he’ll just keep padding his bank account with more money while putting people I love and care about out of their jobs.

  Yet I’m so damn attracted to him that it’s starting to physically hurt.

  I set my wineglass down. “So now what?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “You’ve still got some wine left in your glass, so we can stay if you’d like to finish.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea.”

  He nods once. He seems a little different since his big confession that he doesn’t want to run the multibillion-dollar King Communications—a little less arrogant, maybe, like he’s giving me a glimpse of the person under the façade, like he’s opening up to me—and I’m getting the feeling it’s rare for him to show this side of himself.

  He pushes back from the table to stand, and I’m racking my brain for any reason to keep him in his chair. I come up empty, though, so I stand, too.

  “I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” he says, and then he starts for the door as I trail behind him.

  With each step I take, it’s like someone adds to the weight I’m carrying on each foot. I don’t want to go, and I don’t really understand why. I’m supposed to hate Carson for what he’s doing, and my feelings are so mixed. Is it okay to hate someone but also kind of like them? Is it okay to be intrigued by someone who has plans to destroy the things I hold dear? Is it okay to be attracted to someone even if they’re ugly on the inside?

  I let that last thought marinate in my mind. Is he ugly on the inside? Or is he just a vulnerable boy who’s doing what his dad told him to do? The honesty in his voice when he told me he doesn’t want to run King was a little heart-wrenching. Part of me wanted to ask him what he does want to do. Part of me wanted to get to know him better.

  But, as I had to remind myself throughout the night, this is a business meeting, merely an avenue for me to talk to the man who has promised to pull my father’s company right out from under him.

  I didn’t accomplish what I set out to do, and instead I spent the night dodging flirtations from a man who isn’t my boyfriend.