by K. F. Breene
“I won’t hold you back. But give Tory a chance to talk to you before you make any final decisions. I can’t give you a raise, not yet; but he has said he can, so wait to see what he offers. That is my only request. Wait to see what he values your worth, and how the guys respond to you in L.A., before making any final decisions.”
Krista nodded slowly. “I haven’t interviewed or anything, so you have some time. Just…don’t take it personally, okay? Whatever I decide, don’t take it personally.”
Sean sat next to her. “That was me talking on a personal level. You have another thing coming if you think my business side is going to let you go that easily.”
Krista laughed. “Is that a challenge?”
Sean chuckled darkly and resumed his ministrations. With a smile, Krista leaned back and let him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
One month had gone by since the team building convention. True to form, Sean was back to the grindstone with very little pause. He was working long hours and trying to get his region to make miracles happen. Krista was pushing Kate and the other supervisors under her, which now numbered four, but only Kate was handling the increased pressure. Everyone else was cracking and requiring more help from Krista, which sometimes meant reorganization.
One of those departments was in Bob’s care—Sean had them reassigned a couple of weeks before the conference. Like Bob, Krista had to try and force the supervisor out. He would not be motivated. He simply would not work! He finally gave up from her monotonous persistence, made a giant public display in the break room by calling her a raging bitch, and walked out. Sean had Jasmine reassigned directly after the convention, and Krista had the whole department restructured and on the path to better performance, with Jasmine’s help, in two weeks flat. There was one more woman in upper management, and she was kicking ass, just like Kate. Just like Krista.
Sean told Ron from New York personally.
Sean had taken Krista out to one dinner, and that was when they were still in Colorado—they got later flights and enjoyed lounging. Since then, though, she had seen him at work daily, and refused invitations to his house daily. Over and over she told him she wanted to date him, not be his booty call. Over and over he told her he was too busy, but as soon as things slowed down, he would.
So just please come over.
No.
It was Friday and she had just finished looking at Jasmine’s most recent report. Jasmine was really bringing things together for the department. She was pissed that Kate was still outperforming her, and taking it upon herself to end that winning streak. What’s more, they loved her. She gave impossible demands and told her people that if they met the goal, she would give them a party. Or bring in beer. Or take them to lunch. Even after all the parties and extras were factored in, the department was way under budget.
Krista was happy with the bottom line and Sean was happy with the performance, so the parties continued unhindered. Obviously Krista wished she had thought of it.
So did Kate, who implemented the practice with gusto. It was why they were still pulling ahead. The two departments were becoming rivals. They didn’t give a crap about the company as a whole—not many underlings did—but they did care about getting better parties, and therefore, better numbers than the other departments. It got to the point that Tory noticed the bottom line and reamed Sean out for L.A.’s mistake in reporting financial information. A panicked Sean called Krista.
A day later a smug Sean called Tory back, furnished with a flash drive full of information, including a table of contents, regarding the validity of their numbers. The next week there was a company bulletin for all upper management highlighting Kate and Jasmine’s departments and their fantastic progress. Ron was livid—L.A. was making a chump out of him. The highlighted department’s got a combined party and gift cards for such superior work. Krista got another pat on the back from Tory, and their meeting was moved up a week.
Speaking of their meeting, Tory was making a trip down to meet with Krista. He wanted to discuss her employment. Like Sean said, he was aware of her offers. He was also aware she had interviewed with four companies, each offering some truly fantastic packages: higher wages, bonuses, benefits, and some spacious offices. They couldn’t offer such challenging work, however. Three of the four were basically creating jobs just to get her in the door; she would be a glorified consultant.
If she moved companies, she also wouldn’t have her friends. Or the ability to get her hands on any other departments and change everything around. It turned out she liked managing people; checking their work and motivating them to better things. She liked taking Sean’s impossible expectations and making them a reality. She also liked working with Marcus and Ben, who still had special projects that involved Krista in some form. The other places couldn’t offer her any of that.
But a challenge wasn’t going to get her a mortgage. She needed the money to grease the wheels. For that, she would move on. If Tory didn’t give her something she could sink her teeth into, she would move on.
Back into reality, she glanced at the clock. 5:30—time to go! As a rule, she didn’t work late on Fridays. Not ever. She would work both days on the weekend to leave on time on Friday. No matter how busy she got, and how much she might hate work, she still always looked forward to Fridays. Somehow one good day negated four bad ones. Or busy ones, at any rate.
She shut off her computer, grabbed her purse, and stood up. That’s when she noticed one of the guest chairs was taken. She jumped about a foot and swore. Sean was watching her with a handsome grin, leaning back, perfectly comfortable, his ankle crossed over his leg.
“Hi Geegee, how goes it?” he asked with a smile.
“Jesus! I didn’t even hear you come in!”
“You were too busy trying to sprint out of here.”
“It’s Friday.”
“All day, yes. Do you have plans?”
“Happy hour with the girls and Ben. Per usual.”
Krista got a tingling sensation in her groin. She hoped he was finally asking her out. Being with Sean again got her all revved up and a month was an extremely a long time to go without sex. It was also a long time without any sort of contact. She craved feeling those muscles on her cheek, or taking a big whiff of his manly scent, or just cuddling up on the couch and watching a stupid movie.
By the look in Sean’s eye, all the same things were running through his head. “Did you want to go to dinner after?”
“How about I skip happy hour and we just go to dinner?”
“Great. What time should I pick you up?”
“An hour from now. Should I pack some clothes?”
She wanted a whole weekend of lounging around. One dinner on a Friday was a perfect gateway for a weekend of sex.
“Unfortunately, just for the night. I have to work this weekend.”
Krista’s sails deflated. “You’ve been working a lot lately.”
Wariness passed over his face. She couldn’t tell if it was because of what she said and their past, or if he was just tired from the job. Either way, she couldn’t date the guy if he never made time for her. And she wouldn’t be with him if she couldn’t date him first. Chet may have been weird, but he always made time. He always treated her well and took her out. It’s a sad world when the Chet’s out-did the Sean’s.
“I just got the job. I’m trying to get things together and in the right direction,” Sean said, shifting his body position. He went from totally open to closed down in one quick movement.
Krista let it go. She would wait and see what happened. Hopefully in a couple weeks it would calm down, for both their sakes. Krista had already decided she wouldn’t be with him if he put work first. She never dated a workaholic, but she had seen enough on TV to know they were home wreckers. It was time to look out for number one.
After a fantastic, expensive dinner in which Sean tickled Krista with compliments and gave her his undivided attention the whole time, they rolled up a long driveway to an enormous
house. A-giant-house. As in, the buyer had all the money in the world and houses the size of blocks were no big concern.
“Where are we?” Krista asked as she stared out at the darkened mammoth of a structure.
“Home,” Sean said, slowing in front rather than opening the garage door.
“This is yours? Did you buy this?” Why?
Sean got out. Krista followed. He waited for her to shut the door of his new Audi, which was the most comfortable car in the world, and set the alarm with his key thingy.
“Yup. All mine. I wanted something near the ocean. It is a bit of a commute, but worth it.”
“Wow.”
They walked around the four car garage toward the landscaped path and up to the house. The path was lit with small, elegant lights that were only about four inches off the ground.
“They’re solar powered. They charge during the day, and they light the path at night.” Sean hurried ahead to unlock the door.
“Huh.”
The moon was only about half-full, and the house must have been on a large expanse of property, because there weren’t any houses close, and the lights from the street at the end of the driveway didn’t reach the door. Because of all this, Krista could only see the shrubbery close by, and had no idea what the front of the yard looked like. She did hear the ocean, though. It sounded close. Closer than her house. Actually, they sounded like they were walking on the beach, the crash of the waves was so loud.
“I need to install a motion censored light. It gets dark,” Sean said as he jingled his keys, angling his hands so the moonlight would help him find the right one.
“Why didn’t you park in the garage?”
“I haven’t done much unpacking. The garage is still full of boxes.”
“Huh.”
They finally got through the door, Sean stepping aside so Krista could enter first, then rushing around her to find a light. When they were finally done squinting in the harsh, overhead glare, Krista was presented with a giant foyer. The walls were littered with interesting paintings, there were high, wood paneled ceilings, and a tiled floor.
With a smile, Sean grabbed her hand and led her through a big archway into a bigger room with couches, shiny hard wood floors, a small bar set up in the corner of the room with four bar stools, and a giant TV.
While the furniture was similar in style to what Sean had in San Francisco, they weren’t the same couches. All the furniture looked new, actually. All the colors and décor matched and accented each other. It was modern, but comfortable. It looked like an interior decorator had blown through and Sean took all the suggestions.
It looked like it cost a fortune, is what it looked like.
“Tour?” Krista asked in a small voice.
Despite it being stuffed with furniture, the room was absolutely huge. High vaulted ceilings with more wood paneling. It wasn’t wood paneling from the 70’s, either. It was something you might see walking into a winery in Napa valley. There was art and plants, sconces, and vases—the room bespoke money. Everywhere the eye turned, it was interested in what it found. Which was great. Krista had always wanted a home that looked like a million bucks, but still felt like a home; a place that was luxury, but inviting. She never figured she’d have that much money, though. Unless she won the lotto, that was.
Which led her to one question: how much was he making?
They went down a wide hallway to a library. First thing of note—everything was Cherry wood. The giant desk, the book shelf, the small table between two overstuffed couches, even the stand that held the large globe. One wall was covered with books. Big, ornamental, expensive looking books. They looked old. Another wall had a giant tapestry depicting a battle. A third wall…
“Is that a sword?” Krista asked, afraid to take a step further into the room in case she brushed up against something and broke it. She didn’t belong in a rich man’s house.
Sean bounded over to it, a giant smile on his face.
“It is! It is the first. I figure a sword collection can begin in this room. That’s why the tapestry. It is a relic, though I admit, I don’t remember much about it. I have all the paperwork if you want to look at it. I figured you’d know. And look…” He pointed to the far corner. “A suit of arms. That was for me. Cool, huh?”
“Isn’t all this for you?” she mumbled.
He didn’t hear her, he was surveying the room as though he was waiting for her approval.
Ignoring Sean’s expectant look, also his explaining the love of the room, Krista walked quietly to the bookcase. The first book she saw was Moby Dick. Not a book she enjoyed reading, but a classic. The pages weren’t yellowed, though, so it probably wasn’t old, just styled that way. She noticed at the end of the bookcase, on the bottom, there was some Dean Koontz, Stephen King and…wait, was that Twilight?
Sean had followed her gaze and turned a deep crimson. “It was a gag gift. I hate throwing away books.”
“Uh huh,” Krista said as she ran her fingers over the globe.
“Shall we move on?” he asked from the doorway.
Krista followed him. There was another living room, which was staged for company. No TV, no bar, no fun. Just couches and chairs facing each other for idle chit chat. It was something her mom would love. Yuck.
“For guests,” Sean explained. “It can be changed, though.”
Thank you Captain Obvious.
Next they moved on to a laundry room with a permanently set up ironing board. Which was handy, of course, if you planned on ironing. Which Sean never did. He was more of a wash-and-fold type of guy. So was Krista. Time was valuable, and spending it doing laundry was the pits. What’s the point of making money when you couldn’t drop off your laundry to be washed and folded by a business around the corner?
“It looks like it’s never been used,” Krista remarked with a smirk. There wasn’t even any spilled detergent. Or dryer lint. What laundry room didn’t have dryer fuzzies?
“I don’t actually do my laundry. I should, it’s just…”
“Your free time is too valuable to waste. I was just thinking the same thing.”
Sean smiled and ran a fingertip along her jaw line. “I love you, Krissy.”
Krista leaned into his body and entwined her fingers through his. “Where’s the bedroom?”
Sean laughed, gave her a light kiss, and tsked. “All in due time. There’s more to see. C’mon.”
Thankfully, Sean sped up the tour. There was a sun room with large windows. The kitchen was giant with an island and all new appliances. There was a small round table set up in the corner where it looked like Sean did most of his eating. There was also a dining room where Krista envisioned herself throwing spectacular dinner parties. It didn’t look like it had been touched since Sean moved in. There were two other rooms at the back of the house that were largely bare. Sean explained that he didn’t know what to do with them quite yet, so they were in transition. He was thinking guest rooms, but wasn’t sure.
They’d finished only the bottom story and Krista was tired. She opted not to see the basement, which was probably also huge, and followed him up a wide staircase to more house. Why there was any need for more house, she had no idea. No one person needed this much space. She had no idea why he bought a house so big. She also had no idea how he could afford it. His job paid out six figures, sure, but nowhere near enough to afford a house that large. At least, not right away. Maybe after a couple raises and a lot of saving, it might be doable with two incomes. Two Senior VP incomes, at that. His house in San Francisco would fetch more than eight-hundred and fifty grand since the property values there were outrageous, but L.A. was no dump. That much would buy a house for about the same size here. So whatever he made might have been a good down payment, but that still left a ton to pay off. The house she was standing in would have been in the millions—she was property hunting, she knew this from experience.
As they went up the large, sweeping staircase, Krista started to wonder if Se
an took out a loan he could never possibly afford. Maybe he lost his head and was working so hard because he would be bankrupt otherwise. She had always thought he was good with money and finances, but who was to say? This house was way overboard so far. And that was just the bottom floor!
On the second floor—there better not be a third! —they hit the play room first. There was a large TV with some sort of game console set up. There was a love seat and gaming chair with a stool, and some small tables. It was probably played once or twice because stuff wasn’t put away. Across the room was a computer, equipped with joystick. That was all organized, so probably not used often, or at all. The rest of the large room was bare. It was carpeted and comfortable, painted a bright yellow, had shelves and plenty of storage area, but nothing was in it.
Before Krista could ask about it, she was whisked away to another room. Then two more. They were all set up for guest rooms with a bed, nightstand, dresser, mirror, and a big, empty closet. They smelled of fresh paint and wood lacquer. Never been used—she’d put her life on it.
There were two bathrooms nestled between the three bedrooms and game room. No one would have to wander far to find a bathroom.
Next they hit the master suite. Ordinarily she would be ready to fall out of her clothes and have Sean fall into her, but she was a bit disturbed by the size of everything.
The master suite was the only room that looked thoroughly used. There were clothes draped here and there, shoes lying around and the bed was made, but rumpled. Like the rest of the house, it was massive. The bed was a king sized wooden sleigh bed, where in San Francisco he had a queen with a nondescript metal frame. He had large, matching nightstands for both sides of the bed with reading lights. One side had papers, an alarm clock and a book. The other side wasn’t used, which made Krista sigh in relief.
There was a chair and small table in the corner by a double door—leading to a balcony?—that was set up for reading. There was a TV mounted on the wall with DVD and speakers, and things on shelves below it. There was a large fireplace with a leather couch in front of it. A door at the far side led to, what she figured was a ridiculously large bathroom. Another door revealed a couple pieces of gym equipment. And who was forgetting the closet that could be a bedroom in San Francisco? Half of it was left empty. It was like Sean drew a line down the middle and didn’t cross his things into it.
