by Sierra Rose
Caleb was a rare gem, the best of both worlds, a pretty face but also a good listener. When I told him all about my drama, he didn’t interrupt once, and he never made a single judgment against me. Not once did he sigh or roll his eyes, as Madison was so good at doing. When I finished my sad tale, he simply offered a sympathetic smile, then pulled a bottle of whisky from his bottom drawer. Whether it was the whisky or his compassionate demeanor or, most likely, a little of both, we bonded quickly and became good friends, possibly even great friends.
Now, all that went up in smoke the second I decided to make him my new target.
“All this time the guy’s had an identical twin!” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes and conjuring up disdain as I leaned across his desk, threateningly eyeing a tray of paperclips and thumbtacks, as if they might become my next arsenal. “How could you possibly keep that a secret, Caleb?”
He wisely slid his heavy paperweights out of reach before lifting his hands in surrender, wearing a deer-in-the-headlights expression. “What secret was there to tell you? I knew it couldn’t possibly be James, because he wasn’t in the country, not even on this side of the globe.”
“He apparently was.”
“Incognito then!” Caleb cried, sliding his rolling chair back a few inches as Madison casually fished a Taser out of her purse. “You can’t blame me for that!”
“You know,” Madison began tentatively, sheathing the Taser once more, “the guy does have a point, Della.”
“What?!” I spun around to face her in my chair. “How can you possibly take his side in this? I thought you and I were on the same page here. We both agreed it’s all Caleb’s fault.”
Rather than involving himself in the argument that he wanted no part of, Caleb sat quietly in his chair, stiff as a statue, with his wide eyes locked on something just above our heads. Finally, like a ventriloquist and without even moving his mouth, he muttered, “Uh, guys...”
“We did agree, and I thought we were right,” she said quickly. “I’m just saying the poor bloke does bring up a solid point about James supposedly not being in the country. It is not strange for the man to travel, so it didn’t even cross his mind to mention him.”
“Guys?”
“This is unbelievable.” I tossed back my hair, fuming at the very thought. “Maybe it’s some British quirk, but in the States, if you hook up with someone who later doesn’t remember it, and you know that person has an identical twin, you might consider bringing that up!”
“Really?” Madison countered, raising her voice as well. “Even if the twin was on the other side of the planet at the time of the tryst and hadn’t been seen in months?”
“For the last time, yes! Quit taking his side. Why is this even a—”
“Guys!”
“What is it, Caleb?” Madison and I yelled at the same time, turning to glare at the man seated on the other side of the desk.
“I think hell just froze over,” he said, staring out into the hall rather than looking at us.
We rotated slowly in our chairs as the elevator dinged and James Cross stepped out. Instantly, it was as if the entire office was caught in a spell, some sort of Twilight Zone-esque time loop. For a moment, no one dared to move, breathe, or even blink. People froze mid-step, mid-gesture, and even the printers seemed to pause in their perpetual rhythm.
Then, just as quickly as everything stopped, it all started moving again, triple-time, as if trying to make up for the brief delay. A hundred buzzing conversations whipped around at lightning speed as people rushed forward to greet him. The horde stumbled awkwardly through the required hospitality, shaking his hand with an overabundance of enthusiasm while trying not to openly stare at his face in awe. One or two even sank into a regrettable sort of bow before they were ushered away by their comrades, presumably off to a life of therapy and tears.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Madison whispered, still rooted firmly in her chair, her eyes widening a bit before flashing over to me. “Is he looking for you?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just froze in a state of paralyzed shock, staring at that dazzling exterior and picturing myself wiping a smudge of marinara from his cheek.
“We never see that one. How long has it been?” Caleb murmured, tearing his eyes away only long enough to glance at his calendar, as if there should be large red circle around the date.
“Um...never,” Madison guessed. “Has he ever been here?”
Caleb shook his head, now donning an incredulous frown. “Just that once, to celebrate the grand opening of the Western branch. And you were away in Paris. I’m surprised he even knows which building...” he began but trailed off when he heard a quiet knock on the door.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” James said as he stepped inside and swept his twinkling eyes around the room, catching traces of the devastation we’d left in Caleb’s office, like a wayward stapler and a few pens and pencils in places where they shouldn’t be. “I can see you’re busy...redecorating.”
“Not at all!” Caleb leapt to his, flushing with embarrassment, and Madison and I quickly followed suit. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cross. I just... Well, we weren’t expecting you, so...” Finally, after some visible effort and finding the courage to avoid wetting himself, Caleb managed to offer his hand. “I don’t know if you remember me, sir, but I’m—”
“Caleb Hart,” James said, happy to give a handshake and a smile. “Of course I remember you. International business major, right? You were at Cambridge the same year I was at Oxford.” There was something irresistibly calming about James; his was a smile too warm and welcoming to be ignored.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Caleb replied, blinking in surprise, then relaxing in spite of himself.
Visibly impressed but not to be outdone, my new roommate shot her hand out as well, flashing her own signature pearly grin. “And I’m—”
“Madison Montgomery,” James finished. “I saw some of your work on the Decody deal. That was some brilliant stuff.”
It must have been the first time anyone ever complimented Madison on her brains rather than her legs, the first time someone took notice of her genuinely stunning professional track record rather than her exquisite face and statuesque figure. Her eyes lit up in shock before a slow, almost shy smile crept up her face. The hint of a rose-colored blush tinted the tops of her cheeks, and she bowed her head, looking honored and pleased as she sheepishly offered, “Why, thank you, Mr. Cross. Thank you very much.”
Caleb and I shared a quick glance of astonishment. Clearly, neither of us realized Madison was even capable of blushing, nor did we know that shyness was anywhere within her repertoire.
Before I could even begin to process that shocking revelation, though, James turned his spotlight on me, and I was up to bat.
“Let me guess. Delilah Jones?”
Hearing him say my nickname before surprised me, but the sound of my full name coming from his luscious lips sent even bigger shivers running up my spine. A blossom of heat colored my cheeks as I extended my hand. “I’m sorry. Have we met?” I pretended, with a quizzical little smile on my face.
James grinned and rolled his eyes in mock dismay. “Shit. And she’s American too. Just listen to that accent.”
“You’re one to talk, good sir,” I said, slipping into my best London dialect, elongating every vowel to within an inch of its life. “It’s as if I’m trapped on the set of Mary fucking Poppins.”
The others merely laughed, but James stepped forward with a seductive look about him, locking his eyes attentively on my lips. “Say that again.”
My heartbeat quickened at the subtle implication buried in the request, but before I could do as he asked, another voice broke through the silence: “James!”
The four of us turned around and saw Robert quickly heading our way with long strides, rudely elbowing his staff out of his way in his manic rush to meet his brother. A friendly smile was plastered on his face, but it was impossible to ignor
e the panic and fury that struggled for place deep within his eyes. Obviously, he didn’t want James there, on his turf, and he surely didn’t want him talking to me.
“What are you doing here?” Robert asked, pulling his twin in for a tight hug that we all knew was more of a confining tactic than any sort of endearing gesture. “Not distracting my employees, I hope.”
The nervous chuckle that followed did nothing to help ease the awkward joke, but James merely smiled and clapped his brother once on the shoulder before pulling away. “Your employees?” he teased lightly.
“Why are you here exactly? Was there a family funeral that no one told me about? Has our father abdicated the throne?”
Already, a light sheen of sweat had broken out over Robert’s forehead. Clever banter failed him, and he found himself completely unable to play along. Instead, he flashed that same strained smile and laughed again, sounding even more choked than before. “It’s just so strange to see you here.” He looked James up and down like a basketball player scrutinizing a much taller, much faster opponent. “You haven’t set foot in this building for almost five years, and then you show up twice in one week. Truth be told, I feared you might have forgotten our address here.”
Caleb flashed a discreet I-told-you-so look, but before James could even answer, Robert threw an arm around his shoulder again and casually steered him to the door.
“You know, we should celebrate!” His fingers tightened on the tops of James’s shoulders as that forced smile threatened to crack right off his face. “Let’s go out for a night on the town like we used to, my treat.”
They used to go out together? Nights on the town?
“I must take care of a few small loose ends here, but you are welcome to get started without me.” Robert released him only long enough to snap his fingers, and a second later, his private assistant, as loyal as any dog, appeared out of nowhere, ready to do his bidding. “Seth, send a car around,” Robert said.
Seth said nothing but nodded, and I could have sworn he almost wagged his rear end when Robert smiled his approval.
“The driver will take you wherever you wish to go,” Robert said. “There’s a table at The Dorchester with your name on it. I’ll have the manager send over a few bottles of champagne, a few young ladies—”
“Actually,” James said, easing himself gracefully out of his twin’s hands, “I came to see if Della is free.”
My face lit up, and it was all I could do not to jump up and down right then and there. I couldn’t get over how wonderful it felt to hear him say my name, a sweet victory for me since he had refused to let me share that with him the night of our rooftop romp. I realized, with a grin, that I’d been waiting to hear him say it ever since. “She certainly is,” I answered without a second of hesitation.
James reached out to offer his arm, but Robert stepped abruptly between us in the most socially awkward of ways. “I’m afraid Della has a little more work to finish here as well.”
But I’m two weeks ahead on all my projects. What, does he want me to make him tea or something? I’d like to shove a crumpet up his uppity ass or arse or whatever the hell they call it over here!
A muscle twitched in the back of James’s jaw, but he turned toward his brother with that same patient expression on his face. “Oh?”
Robert grimaced, a fake apology if there ever was one. “Sorry, but she has a call with China.”
“You mean Japan, don’t you?” James asked, never missing a beat.
An unsettling hush fell over the entire floor. I’d only been working at Cross for days, but even I knew the unspoken rule: One could never, ever correct the acting CEO, no matter how wrong he was or how often, especially in front of a crowd of his inferiors.
Robert blanched and glanced automatically to his assistant before turning back around. “What?”
James’s eyes locked intently on his brother, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. It wasn’t a judgmental look; it was as if he actually thought his brother had made an honest mistake. “China fell by two points yesterday, but Japan is up by three,” he clarified matter-of-factly. A curious frown flickered across his face as he waited for his brother to make the connection. “Shouldn’t you call Mirosaki and get a jump on those shipping routes before the Western markets open?”
The entire exchange was incredibly quiet, everyone within earshot hung on every word. Madison clenched my elbow in some sort of absentminded death-grip, and down the hall, our supervisor was grasping his phone tightly.
Robert glanced quickly around as a splotchy flush rose up in his neck. “Of course I meant Japan,” he said. “Silly me.”
For a moment, the siblings merely stared at each other.
“I’ll wait then,” James said, finally settling down in a chair in the reception area and opening a magazine with that easy smile still etched on his face.
Chapter 5
LIKE ANY OTHER GIRL, I’d fantasized about the man of my dreams doing something awesome, coming to my rescue and delivering some pivotal, strongly worded speech to tear down a bully or rushing heroically into a burning building or generally just being kick-ass for my sake, but that didn’t happen for me.
Really, none of it was my fault. It was impossible to get a lick of work done with a man like James Cross sitting right across the hall, waiting for me, with one of his strong legs folded over the other. To make matters worse, every other tick of the painfully slow clock, he shot looks at me with those dark, smoldering eyes. I had a hard enough time finding my way back to my own office, let alone navigating a tricky call with Japan, and as if that wasn’t enough drama for one day, the translator just so happened to be out sick.
“No, I understand,” I said, rubbing my eyes with frustration and trying to steer the conversation back on track for the millionth time. “What I’m trying to say is—”
A rush of angry Japanese fired back at me, the same barrage I’d heard for the last two hours. Despite simultaneous emails going back and forth, in broken English and Japanese, we had still gotten absolutely nowhere, and at that point, I was literally on the verge of tears.
Of course Robert gave me this particular call, the most difficult of the week, with his brother sitting there watching. Japan isn’t even my fucking account!
“Mr. Mirosaki, if I could just—”
The shouting recommenced, so loud that I had to hold the phone away from my face. I actually sank several inches down in my chair. It didn’t matter that Madison and I had decided to work a half-day by showing up after lunch; I decided we shouldn’t have come in at all. A throbbing migraine was building behind my eyes, and I knew if I didn’t close the deal, I could kiss any possibility of promotion goodbye, let alone another date with the far-less-cross of the Crosses.
“May I?”
My eyes shot open to see James leaning over my desk. The sight of him took my breath away, as I hadn’t even heard him come inside. His eyes twinkled as he held out his hand, and he looked nothing like a man who’d been waiting in an uncomfortable, gaudy chair for two hours, perusing an ancient edition of some magazine that probably wasn’t even in print anymore. He looked just as bright and fresh as he did when he first stepped off the elevator earlier, with that same impossible light dancing in his eyes.
Without a pause or even much of a pulse, I somehow managed to hand the phone to him, then leaned back and just watched in amazement.
“Akio?” He waited a moment, and then his eyes lit up with a smile. “Moshimoshi!”
What happened next ranked right up there on my list of impossible things. With the ease and grace of a seasoned litigator, James pulled up a chair and proceeded to hammer out the rest of the merger all by himself, on the fly.
And in perfect fucking Japanese to boot.
What was more, he did it all without that smile ever leaving his face. In fact, at several points during the conversation, he said something that caused the investor to laugh so loudly that I could hear it, chuckling drawn out o
f a man who seemed to have no sense of humor. What had started as a grueling, pointless, time-wasting and frustrating re-creation of Lost in Translation quickly lightened into a high-spirited and very productive back-and-forth as James went through the financial agreement piece by piece, point by point, moving with a speed and skill that would have made even his legendary father proud.
People walked out of their offices and stared at him with a hushed kind of reverence. Robert watched from an office down the hall, but he tried to pretend he wasn’t, in spite of the bullets his forehead was sweating all the while.
Instead of frantically scribbling down numbers like we all did, James worked them all out in his head. He only wrote the final sum on a Post-it, then stuck it playfully to my forehead. When I pulled it off and looked at it, my mouth fell open in shock; it was a full ten times higher than the percentage we hoped to get.
That settles it. He really is a god. That’s not just unlikely. It’s...impossible!
The Japanese started winding down, and James stood up with a soft chuckle. He offered a few parting words before finishing with a cheerful, “Sayonara!” A second later, he picked up his jacket and hung up the phone in a single motion, then tossed the latter back to me. “Now that that’s all settled, are you ready to go?”
I blinked, stared down at the Post-it, then blinked again. “What the hell just happened?”
He glanced at his brother with a touch of irritation before glancing at his watch. “To put it simply, I guess our lunch date just became a dinner, so—”
“No, I mean this.” I slapped the sticky note down on the desk, staring back at him in wonderment. “How the hell did you do that?”
