It didn’t matter that his history with Vivian was exactly that—history. There were times he wished they’d figured out how to stay friends. He missed her company. But knocking heads with her over work could be almost as much fun.
Even though they were ancient history, he wouldn’t have complained if they moved their conversation somewhere more private, took their professional lives completely off the table, and re-enacted a few memories. Images flashed through his mind. Her, stripping off her top. Him, loosely binding her wrists. Running his fingers and tongue over every inch of her body, until she begged for release.
His cock hardened at the thought, and he adjusted himself, to relieve some of the pressure. He finished his beer. If he couldn’t have intellectual stimulation, he’d have to settle for physical. The next question was, here or somewhere else?
“Is your friend coming back?” A teasing voice drew his attention. The waitress stood next to the table and studied him with wide blue eyes, as she traced a finger along the V-neck of her shirt.
She’d do. Sure, she was a little young—mid-twenties, most likely—but he wasn’t looking for scathing conversation. That had walked out the door for the night. “You know”—he flicked his gaze to her nametag before locking it on her face again—”Emma, I don’t think she is. Which...” He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Never mind. Can I get another beer?”
Emma hesitated a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to say something. Then she nodded. “Sure. I’ll be right back.” She was, too. Less than thirty seconds, if Damon had to guess. She set the fresh bottle in front of him on a coaster and brushed his hand as she withdrew hers. “Can I get you anything else?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
This was too easy. Damon shook his head and drummed his fingers against the edge of his beer. “I’m only in town for a few days, and I don’t really know anyone.” He looked at her directly, holding her gaze captive. Each new twitch, either nervous, confident, or downtrodden, was part of drawing her into the conversation. “I bet you could do a much better job of showing me around, than she would have.”
Pink spread over her cheeks—that was kind of cute—and she ducked her head. “Maybe.”
“In that case...” He tilted his head toward hers and dropped his voice so she had to lean in, to hear him. “You tell me what time your shift is over, and I’ll figure out when you get off.”
She giggled. Not quite as endearing as the blush. “In a couple of hours,” she said.
“Sounds perfect. I’ll wait.”
VIVIAN PROBABLY SHOULD have texted Jared and Tate when she left the bar last night, and let them know she’d run into Damon. She’d been distracted though, so she snagged Jared when he walked in the office this morning.
“What are the odds Damon only knew about the change in plans—I don’t know—yesterday, as he caught his flight?” Jared asked Vivian. He sat in one of the chairs across from her desk, making notes on his phone every few seconds, in response to things said or files exchanged.
“He’s known for weeks. I’m certain of it.” She clicked up another file, scanned the contents, and stashed a copy in a new folder. The encounter in the bar had played in her head all night. If she hadn’t run into Damon there, she had a feeling his being in office would have been kept a surprise up until the moment he walked in the door. She wouldn’t linger on that now; she was in work-mode. Things needed to get done. Banter was a pleasant way to make the work go faster. Dwelling on what kind of games Damon was playing wasn’t.
Someone knocked on her office door, and Vivian dragged her attention from her computer and focused on Tate.
“Alan said you were looking for me.” Alan was Tate’s administrative assistant, and as far as Vivian was concerned, a fantastic hiring decision. Then again, Skriddie Bust Media had a great track record with that. She’d never been with another company that had the same knack for finding the right people for the job.
Jared and Tate—and she, if she was listing people—were perfect examples of that. Even though the two men grew up together, and Tate’s family owned the company, both men had worked as hard as she had, to secure their jobs. Now Tate ran a new arm of the company, focused on crowdfunding websites, Jared was half a step from being named Chief Technical Officer, and Vivian was senior Vice President of Sales and Operations.
She nodded at the empty chair next to Jared. “Change of plans for the NSS discovery depositions.”
Jared held up a single sheet of paper. “Lead counsel is gracing us with his presence. And apparently visits start this morning, instead of tomorrow.”
“Really.” Tate snagged the legal-team roster and dropped into the chair. Unlike Jared, who sat straight-backed, Tate slouched a little and rested one ankle on the other knee. He looked at Vivian, rather than the paper he held. “I assume you’re to thank, for him fitting an office visit into his busy schedule.”
“My money’s on Hayden. I’m guessing he thought this would be funny. Or something.” Vivian expected last minute surprises from the upcoming legal sessions, but this one threw her for a loop. During a painful year of discovery documentation changing hands, she’d managed to keep contact with Damon to a minimum. Strictly to keep things simple. Skriddie’s legal department said it probably wasn’t an issue, given the relationship ended more than a decade ago, but it was more of a playing-it-safe measure.
“So you want me to play point while he’s in the office.” Tate snagged a pen from the holder on her desk, turned the paper over, and rested it on his leg, as if to take notes. “You know you can’t avoid him completely.”
She knew Tate would get it without her explaining. There was a lot more than running into an ex-boyfriend riding on this case. It had already cost Skriddie hundreds of thousands in man-hours, to pursue, and they bled more cash, the longer things dragged out. They couldn’t walk away, though. Losing meant NSS won their countersuit, Skriddie footed the entire bill, and they lost a lot of intellectual property and business they’d worked hard to earn. Caving to NSS could cost the entire business. “I can’t avoid him the entire time; it’s true. But if you’re the one sitting in the room during depositions...”
“They can’t claim you gave him dirty looks or something equally ridiculous, and it’s one less thing for NSS to try and haggle about.” Tate tapped the pen on his knee.
“Exactly.” She loved the connection she had with these two. “You did most of the discovery paperwork, so you’re already familiar with the case.”
“And you won’t get all technical and talk over their heads.” Jared added.
“Lucky me.” Tate’s voice was heavy with sarcasm, but his smirk softened the tone.
“Luckier than watching the two of them stuck in the same room, for eight-plus hours.” Jared didn’t look up from his phone, but a smile twitched on his face.
With anyone else, Vivian would have questioned if they were being cruel, but she knew Jared was teasing.
“Sparks?” Tate asked.
Vivian couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.
“Ice,” Jared said.
“From V? Nah.” Despite the sarcasm, Tate grinned.
Vivian tossed a pen at him. “Love you too, asshole.” The back and forth helped take her mind off the pending stress of the next couple of weeks. Even if she wasn’t going to be sequestered in the deposition room, it wouldn’t be easy. Skriddie had filed a lawsuit against NetSafe Systems, for a series of security violations to the Skriddie network. NSS had counter-sued for theft of intellectual property, and now a court reporter was recording a series of questions asked by legal counsel for both companies.
She should thank whoever thought to bring Damon in for the event, for getting her out of that room most of the time.
DAMON STRAIGHTENED his suit jacket, stapled a smile in place, and stepped from the elevator. If he had his timing right, he’d be in the Skriddie offices before any of the other out-of-town guests, which meant he could get settled in the
conference room before things got too crowded and hectic.
Last night, after fielding a series of questions about the weather, the football game on TV, and the weather again from Emma, he’d decided he wasn’t in the mood to get laid after all. He went back to his hotel alone.
The receptionist flashed him a smile as plastic as his felt, and asked, “Can I help you?”
“I’m Damon Vicker. I’m here with the NetSafe Systems legal team.” Another day and another office, he might be tempted to flirt. Strictly to stay in practice. He shifted his weight and adjusted his slacks. Maybe he shouldn’t have acted like a horny teenager in his hotel room last night, unable to get Vivian out of his head. He was still raw this morning, from jerking off. What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Of course.” She pressed a few buttons on her phone and spoke into her headset. “Mr. Vicker is here... No problem. I’ll let him know.” She looked at Damon again. “Someone will be right with you.”
Vivian had been point on this case so far. What were the odds either she or her assistant were greeting people? A jolt raced over Damon’s skin. Calm down. He stashed the unreasonable reaction and stopped fidgeting. He was on the clock now, and that meant being calm, collected, and unreadable.
“Vicker. Pleasure to have you in the office.”
Damon spun at the familiar male voice. Tate. Damon extended his hand. “Foster. You get reassigned to administrative assistant? Step up for you. Isn’t it?” It wasn’t that he had a problem with Tate. He’d probably like the guy fine, under other circumstances, and compared to Hayden, Tate was a saint. If Damon had to work with the rich kid helping run Daddy’s company, Tate was an easier choice. But the habit to throw the opposition off balance was always there, hovering at the front of Damon’s mind.
“Nah.” Tate shook his hand, grip firm enough to convey he wasn’t interested in backing down, before he let go and nodded toward the conference room. “I’ve been promoted to Babysitter. V’s got too much going on right now.”
Or their Legal had advised her to keep contact with Damon to a minimum, to avoid accusations of conflict of interest. He’d guessed this would be the result, though no one at NSS had cared. “Speaking of babysitting, is Hayden in yet?”
Tate let out a barking laugh. “Nice, and no. You’re here first.” He gestured into a large room, with a table in the middle and a row of cabinets against the far wall. Coffee and bagels lined the counter. “Make yourself at home. IT’s got independent Wi-Fi set up. Password is the zip code.”
“Thanks.” Damon knew better than to ask why they were on a separate, fairly insecure, network. Since one of the accusations against NSS was that they breached Skriddie’s network, he suspected a lot of things would be off limits. A couple of laptops were already set up on the window side of the room. He picked a spot that looked least likely to get hit by the afternoon glare, found an outlet, and set up his computer before grabbing himself a cup of black coffee.
Over the next half hour, people spilled in, situated themselves around the table, and settled down to work. Damon kept half his attention on the questions and answers, and the remainder on how people reacted to both. They weren’t actually taking depositions this morning. They were discussing their schedule and plans. Some faces were new, and others familiar, but as time passed, he got a better handle on each of them. Basic tells, nervous tics, and how comfortable each of them was with their involvement in the case.
When they took a break, Damon slipped away. He’d only been in the Skriddie building a few times, but the large, sprawling office was simple to navigate. He wandered through the halls, enjoying the mid-morning stillness of heads bowed and working, and found his destination without too much trouble. The soda machine.
“Did you get lost, Counselor?”
That was the familiar voice he’d wanted to hear all morning. He couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread on his face, as he grabbed his drink from the machine and then turned to face Vivian. “Nope.” He held up the bottle. “But a man can only drink so much water in a single sitting, and I think I’ve had too much coffee.”
She raised her brows and shot a look at the can in his hand. “So you’re going for the sugar instead. Smart.” She leaned against the far wall, and the pose accentuated how well her shirt fit, hugging her breasts but looking professional. And when she twisted her body just right, Damon caught a hint of red lace under the peach-colored top.
Fucking sexy. He shuffled the thought aside. “Are you joining us this afternoon?”
“No.” She crossed her arms, but instead of closing her off, the gesture showed off enough cleavage to tease. “Tate will handle things.”
“You’ve got a different touch than he does.” Damon was glad no one else was around. He had two choices—end the conversation quickly, or have a little fun. Impulse raced through his veins. Fun it was. “Not lighter, necessarily, but his experiences are different than yours.”
The corners of her mouth twitched in an unformed smile. “He does fine with the tools he’s got.”
“I want someone who’s more familiar with the tools I’ve got.”
She covered her lips, but her snicker slipped out. “There was an information share. He’s been filled in.”
“Really?” Damon’s grin spread. “Did you tell him everything? Because I’d like to hear that conversation.”
“He knows enough to do what he needs to.”
“But he’s not my type.” Damon stepped closer, so he could drop his voice, and not at all to catch a hint of the intoxicating violet scent drifting from her. Watch yourself. Nagging voice of reason. He knew what he was doing. This was innuendo at its vaguest. Nothing more.
Vivian wagged her finger, but she made no motion to step away. “Careful, Counselor. Don’t tie your own hands before this even starts.”
He finished closing the distance, and dipped his head close to hers. He spoke quietly but couldn’t keep the gravel from his voice. “Are you volunteering to let me tie yours instead?” All right, so this wasn’t quite so vague or innuendo-y.
She straightened, leaving less than an inch between them. Her heat radiated, teasing him and drawing his imagination to life. She met his gaze. “I’m not. So I hope you got your fill from the waitress last night.” Her tone was low, amusement lining it.
He was entertained she’d guessed him so right, and didn’t bother to correct her assumption. “I never kiss and tell.”
“Lucky me. I’ll see you around, Counselor.” She stepped around him.
Damon followed her into the hallway, where he almost collided with Hayden. Vivian gave the other executive a cool smile. “I have to get back to work.”
Hayden’s whistle echoed through the halls, as she walked away. “And you used to tap that.”
Damon clenched his jaw and bit back a string of curses. Fuck. Hayden was the last person he needed to overhear that conversation.
Chapter Three
DAMON WAS TEMPTED TO bump Hayden aside when he brushed past, but as much as he disliked the man, Damon did work for them, and until his firm either left NSS’s employ or fired Damon, he was stuck being civil. “We should get back.”
“Hang on.” Hayden grabbed his arm. Damon turned a glare toward the hand wrinkling his suit, and Hayden let go and shoved his hands in his pockets instead. “We’ve got a few minutes.” His voice was low and he looked left and right between sentences. Which meant he didn’t want to be heard.
The body language both piqued Damon’s curiosity and set every inch of him on high alert. “Right. What can I do for you?”
“Hands tied. Vivian?”
God damn it, he had heard. Damon thought he’d been quieter. He had to assume Hayden heard everything, but at the same time, Damon should give away nothing. Irritation churned inside, mixing with concern this could get out of hand. Better defuse the situation fast and get back to work. “Our past isn’t on trial. We’ve never made it a secret we used to date.”
“Right. But Vivian,
tied up? Literally? I can’t even picture it. Well, I can, but not with her as a willing party.”
Damon clenched his jaw and tried to be subtle about drawing in a deep breath and counting to ten. “Your sick fantasies are none of my business.”
“She’d never do that now.”
He needed to change the subject, cut the conversation off, and get back to the conference room. Damon summoned the calm exterior he used in tough cases and pasted it in place. “I’m not interested in what you think the people in this office would or wouldn’t do. You’re not as good at reading people as you think.”
Hayden raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying she’d do that. Submit.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Damon’s mind spilled through a twisted combination of irritation, fantasy, reason, and the desire to deck Hayden. The latter was winning, and that wasn’t good. “I’m saying, if you had this gift you believe you have—to look at someone and know what they’re thinking—the young lady whose job you threatened and code you appropriated would still be working for you. Instead, she’s engaged to the Skriddie head of IT and is their primary witness in this case.”
Hayden snorted and shook his head. “Bet me whether or not Vivian would still do anything bondage related.”
“No.”
“Because you know I’m right.”
“Because it’s none of your fucking business.” Common sense Damon to step back, but he wouldn’t be the first to turn away. If he were a better man, maybe not so stubborn, he might convince himself to leave without finishing this conversation. Since he couldn’t hit Hayden, Damon’s pride refused to let him go without getting in the last word.
“You’re wrong about her, and your ego won’t let you admit it.” Hayden dropped his voice another notch in volume. “Or maybe when the two of you say you dated, it’s an exaggeration. I see the appeal in that. Meet an attractive girl in college. Take what you want, with or without her permission. Force her to yield. Convince her to write it off, years later, for the sake of career—”
Her Counselor (Love Hack, #3) Page 2
