by Emma Quinn
“He’s my brother! And you can’t stand him. How am I supposed to be okay with the fact that you hate my family?”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a single finger, cutting him off.
“No. Stop. You do hate my family. You look down your nose at us as though you’re so much better,” she accused, her tone haughty. “But you’re not. You’re just another rich kid, just like me. But at least I embrace who I am and where I come from! I’m not going to hoard all my money forever while I waste away into nothing, the world busy living everywhere but here!”
Silence finally slipped between them and it was heavy, awful. It wasn’t until that moment that Michael realized just how different they were. She was right that they came from similar backgrounds, from wealth and privilege. But that was where their similarities ended.
Although he tried to ignore the thought, he felt it creep inside him, slow and gnawing.
He couldn’t bring himself to say it though it was there on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he watched as Tiffani reached for the dress she’d tossed aside and pulled it on. The back was low and the front dipped into her cleavage. She didn’t wear anything beneath it, because there was nothing that the dress wouldn’t show if she did.
It was beautiful and she was stunning.
And Michael couldn’t make himself care.
Tiffani turned to face him finally, her mouth still pinched. Finally, she said, “Are you coming with me tonight?”
He paused for a long moment, shoving his hands into his pockets, then shook his head. “No.”
“I see. Then I suppose we should address the elephant in the room?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Well?” she demanded.
“We don’t have to decide anything tonight, Tiffani,” he told her carefully, though he imagined the result would be the same the next day, too.
She laughed, then shook her head. “Fine, I’ll say it. I’m calling off the engagement. You’re being ridiculous and I’ve had enough of it.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t agree or argue, just let her grab her beaded clutch and her heels, then walk out the door. He stood there with his hands in his pockets as she headed down the stairs and slammed the front door.
Finally, he took off his shoes and socks, then his slacks. He got into the shower and tried to figure out if he was upset that his engagement had just ended on a bad note.
7
Helen
H
elen debated whether or not to tell her parents about her meeting with Mr. Roth that Monday. They had been pretty adamant about her not getting involved any further, that they would handle it, but she knew better. Her parents would stand their ground, but what chance did they have against a corporation like Roth’s? They would be crushed and likely forced to sell for less than the place was worth instead of the generous amount first proposed.
It wasn’t the first time Roth, Inc. had pulled something like that.
In the week leading up to her meeting, Helen had done a lot of research on Roth, Inc. From what she’d gathered, Mr. Roth – Michael Roth’s father – had passed away a decade before the younger Roth had taken over. In that time, a man named Ethan Edwards had acted as CEO until Michael Roth could take over the company.
Apparently, the younger Michael Roth had been interested in education and preparing for running the company in favor of diving in without a clue as to what to do.
That decade had been incredibly prolific for Roth, Inc. And destructive for everyone else.
They’d demolished homeless shelters, soup kitchens, youth centers, and daycares in order to erect towering edifices for the rich. Everything from luxury apartment complexes, which seemed to be one of their favorites, to high end malls and business structures. And one of the most deplorable parts of the whole thing was that the company claimed that they were doing it with the best interest of the community in mind.
Something that struck a nerve with Helen.
Hadn’t that been the same muck Mr. Roth had been trying to sling with her parents in an effort to guilt them into selling? That was one of the reasons they had cited and it rubbed Helen the wrong way. She knew that neighborhood and maybe it wasn’t the richest, but it wasn’t infested with crime or anything like that. It was just a group of hardworking people trying to make their way in a world that was set against them most of the time.
Like now.
But I can do something about it.
That was the thought that convinced Helen that she needed to go to this meeting with Mr. Roth. Although there was plenty of evidence suggesting Mr. Roth knew exactly what his company was up to, she had to at least try to convince him that her parents’ little restaurant and the beautiful park where she’d spent her childhood were worth saving.
She wouldn’t get a better chance than being invited to a meeting with the man himself.
She’d been thinking about the meeting all week – and how sexy he looked in every picture she’d seen of him, thanks to Fiona and her reminding.
As though Helen might forget how attractive he was.
Luckily, arrogant and self-centered didn’t do it for her, so she was reasonably sure that she could control herself while in the same room with him.
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Fiona asked as Helen began cleaning up her testing, storing the samples in the fridge to get back to the following day.
Helen nodded. “Yes. I made up some notecards to make sure I had reasonable talking points. The last thing I want to do is walk in there and sound like a crazy person.”
“You’re not crazy; you’re passionate. That’s not a bad thing.”
“I hope that’s true,” Helen admitted, shrugging out of her lab coat. “I know I’m right, I’m just worried that this Mr. Roth won’t be swayed by anything. What if he’s just inviting me to this meeting to watch me beg? What if he has no intention of listening whatsoever?”
Fiona snorted indelicately, then pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Seems like a big waste of time for a man that’s gotta be pretty busy. I mean, men who wear suits like that and plan huge building projects don’t have a lot of time to torture us peons, do they?”
Helen nodded, though she wasn’t fully convinced. “Yeah, I guess you have a point.”
“And what if he invited you, because he was so taken with you that day in the restaurant!”
Helen groaned and shook her head. “Here we go again with the romance novels.”
“What?” Fiona demanded. “Is it so bad that I’m living vicariously through your love life?”
“No, it’s so bad that you’re making up some terrible romance novel plot and trying to attach it to my love life.”
Fiona waved her off. “Whatever. You’d better get going or you’re going to be late. I have a feeling Mr. Super Sexy Corporate Devil Man doesn’t like to be left waiting.”
“Probably not. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck! And if he says he wants to have his devilish way with you on his desk, please go ahead and do it!”
Helen just stuck her tongue out at her friend, unwilling to dignify that with a response. But as she turned away, her mind couldn’t up but picturing the scene Fiona had painted for her. Mr. Michael Roth, looking as devilishly sexy as ever, walking over to her. He’d force her to back up until her thighs hit the back of the desk – then he’d place his palms flat on that desk on either side of her. He’d lean into her, pushing her knees open so he could settle between her legs. Then his mouth would touch her lips—
Heat washed over her body and she felt almost lightheaded.
The last thing she needed to be thinking about was having sex with some arrogant asshole trying to buyout her parents and put up a horrible parking structure in her favorite park.
Still, it was a hot fantasy that she never had to admit to anyone she was having.
Using her flashcards to fan herself, Helen hurried to her car. She worked hard not to think about
Mr. Roth the entire drive to his office, instead focusing on the points she had outlined on her flash cards. This was her big chance and she wasn’t going to mess it up because she was having dirty daydreams of a man that she couldn’t stand.
When she arrived at Roth, Inc. she suddenly worried that this was some horrible joke. What if she went up to the penthouse – naturally, his office was on the top floor – and was informed that he wouldn’t see her and did she really think he would?
The humiliation of that was almost enough to make her reconsider. Almost.
Instead, she turned it into anger and used it to bolster her cause. If he was going to be a dick, then that would be his problem, because she was going to make him listen to her.
Helen went to the elevator and took it to the top floor. When the doors opened she was forced to pause. The offices were neat, with only a couple of cubicles here and there. Plants were in corners and there were inspirational pictures on the wall that didn’t make a lot of sense like “Don’t let this be your Everest!”
She couldn’t quite figure out how that was supposed to be inspirational.
Straightening out the pencil skirt she’d dug out of her wardrobe and making sure that her blouse was smooth, Helen forced herself out of the elevator before it closed after her. She started walking, not quite sure where she was heading. She thought about stopping to ask where Mr. Roth’s office was, but wasn’t sure anyone would tell her and she didn’t want to blow her cover if that was the case.
With her chin up and her expression one of cool confidence, something she didn’t feel, she strode through the office furtively glancing at each name tag before walking briskly past the office. She was about to give up the chase and just ask someone when she spotted an empty desk next to an office with the door ajar. The name outside the office door was Mr. Michael Roth, CEO.
Thank goodness!
Relieved to have found it and that there didn’t seem to be any impediment – which was odd, hadn’t he mentioned a secretary? – she hurried to the office. She knocked confidently, forcing the door farther open at the same time.
But she frowned at the man standing behind the desk.
“Who are you?” she asked a second before recognizing him. He was the older, snobby man from the restaurant, Mr. Roth’s partner.
He straightened in a hurry, slamming a drawer closed at the same time. He was wide-eyed for half a second as though a deer caught in the headlights. Then it passed and that mask of cool disdain from the restaurant was back and firmly in place. “I beg your pardon?” he answered. “Who are you? I highly doubt you’re the new secretary.”
He gave her a long look up and down her body that made her distinctly uncomfortable.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she said, “That’s none of your concern. I have a meeting with Mr. Roth.”
He barked out a snide laugh. “Oh? Unless you’re the call girl, I somehow doubt it. Now get out of this office. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Should you be here?” she demanded, feeling accosted and insulted. “I didn’t see your name on the plaque outside.”
His cheeks grew ruddy making him look like a devilish Santa Claus. “That’s none of your concern.”
“Mr. Edwards?”
Helen startled at the sound of the female voice behind her and swirled around on her heel to face this new person. She was a woman only a little older than Helen with smooth features that belonged on a movie screen more than they belonged in some corporate office.
She raised a manicured eyebrow at the pair of them. “Mr. Roth is out for the day, Mr. Edwards. I’m going to have to insist that you leave,” she told him coolly, then she turned to Helen. “And I’m not quite sure who you are, but it’s fair to assume the same applies to you.”
Helen took a firm step out of the office in compliance with this woman, but she wasn’t prepared to completely back down yet. She wanted to get the woman alone, beyond Mr. Edwards, the judgmental old man that she was growing to seriously dislike.
Mr. Edwards puffed up, narrowing his eyes at the pair of them as though they were in this together. Whatever this was. “The nerve!” he grunted. “I am Mr. Roth’s partner!”
“And I’m his secretary,” the woman asserted. “If you were supposed to be in this office, Mr. Roth would have told me so. Unless we should call him?”
Secretary? She should know about my meeting! Helen thought.
Mr. Edwards looked for a moment like he might argue with the secretary, but it seemed like she had quite a bit of sway despite her lower position. And it seemed like Mr. Edwards wasn’t too keen on being outed for rooting through Mr. Roth’s desk.
If Helen cared about any of this, she might have wondered what he was looking for, but the truth was she didn’t. She cared about her parents and their restaurant, and the little park across from it.
The corporate espionage didn’t mean a thing to her.
Finally, Mr. Edwards straightened his blazer and sniffled as he moved around the desk towards the door. He glared at the secretary the entire way and only spared a brief glance of annoyance to Helen as he passed her into the hall.
“Meddlesome women,” he muttered as he hunched his shoulders and stalked down the hall towards some other office.
When he’d turned a corner, the secretary turned to face Helen. “Should you be here?” she asked, almost wearily.
“Oh, right.” Helen stuck out her hand in offering to the other woman. “I’m Helen Willems. I have an eleven o’clock meeting with Mr. Roth, per his request.”
The woman frowned slightly as she slipped her hand into Helen’s. “Meeting…” A moment later she winced. “Oh, right. I’m sorry about that. I’ve had to move around most of Mr. Roth’s schedule this past week—he hasn’t been feeling up to being up in the office. I’m sure you’ve realized by now that I’m his secretary, Charlotte.”
“Um, yes, pleasure to meet you.”
Charlotte dropped Helen’s hand, then reached past her to pull Mr. Roth’s door closed. “No one should be in his office right now, much less that pompous ass.” She nodded towards the hall where Mr. Edwards had ventured down. “Not much I can do about that though.”
“Right.” Helen didn’t care. “About the meeting…?”
“Yes, of course.”
Charlotte locked the door and walked to her desk. She flipped through several folders before stopping at one and pulling it from the file. “As I mentioned, Mr. Roth hasn’t been into the office in several days. He hasn’t forgotten about your meeting, however,” she said and handed over the folder.
Helen accepted it. “What is this?”
“Instructions. Since he hasn’t been to the office, he put together a file for you and requested I give it to you.”
“A… file,” Helen repeated flatly. “So there’s no meeting?”
Charlotte waved her off and sat down in her chair behind the desk. “That’s up to you. If you still want to meet with Mr. Roth, there’s an address there. I assume you saved his number, but that’s in there as well. If you’d like to reschedule, I’m happy to help you with that, but I must warn you Mr. Roth doesn’t have a lot of available openings – for months.”
“Months?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes. So decide quickly please.”
The woman tapped her painted nails on her desk, waiting for Helen to make her decision.
Helen realized that this woman wasn’t the type to screw around and she didn’t have a lot of patience, it seemed. What this all came down to was this was likely Helen’s only chance to meet with Mr. Roth, wherever this was, and if she passed on it or rescheduled, it would never happen. Or worse, it would happen after her parents had already lost the restaurant.
“Fine. Is there anything I should know?” Helen asked hotly.
Charlotte smiled. “That Mr. Roth is nothing like Mr. Edwards. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make.”
Without waiting for an answer, Charlotte picked up her desk phone and bega
n dialing. She greeted whoever was on the other end and began ironing out details of Mr. Roth’s business life with Helen still standing there. After a minute or two, Charlotte waved her off, not missing a beat in her phone conversation.
Helen mouthed a quick thank you, then took her folder and headed back towards the elevator. She didn’t see Mr. Edwards again thankfully and had a moment to wonder what Charlotte had meant about Roth being nothing like Edwards.
I hope that’s a good thing, she thought.
The file contained an address and phone number as Charlotte promised, but it also had some other information. There was a project outline with sketches of what the finished project was supposed to be, complete with palm trees and a large pool coupled with a spacious gazebo clubhouse and what might have been an open bar. There were interior apartment concepts, too, and smiling people hanging out on balconies overlooking the city below.
It was all very… commercial. Very little of the project seemed real to Helen and it made her dislike it all the more.
There weren’t any numbers attached and the only date was a projected completion date, about a year in the future.
My, aren’t we optimistic, she thought dryly.
There was no mention of buying out the people who owned shops where they were going to build these apartments, but Helen could tell by the street signs that her parents’ restaurant was where the front door to the lobby of this new place would be.
Anger swept through her.
This man was mocking her with images of the future that he was so sure he could buy! Well, he was about to get a piece of her mind and he probably wasn’t going to like it.
The address provided in the file turned out to be a gated community.
Helen worried when she found the gate locked—and her with no code. She pressed the buzzer on the intercom and waited.
“Hello?”
“Yes, hello, I’m expected by Mr. Roth?” She was trying to sound like she did this all the time and that there was no reason they shouldn’t let her in. Of course, it seemed like Mr. Roth went through a lot of trouble to give her the address and set up the meeting and tell his secretary if they weren’t going to let her in…
