by Chiah Wilder
I glanced down at my ruined blouse and shook my head. With bags under my eyes from not enough sleep, a wrinkle on my forehead from nursing a hangover, and a huge brown stain decorating my ivory-colored shirt, I looked like a mess. And how the hell did Trace Prescott look so damn hot after partying the night before? Stop it. You’ve got a ton of work to do. Get to it. No matter what the situation was, I’d be polite, do my job, and have as little contact with the CEO as possible. Besides, I’d rarely hung out on the top floor when Mr. Linder was running the company, so there’d be no reason for it now. And when Lindsey came back to work, I’d have no reason to visit the mahogany-paneled suites.
I swiveled away from the breathtaking view of the bay and clicked on the computer screen. And what was up with my body reacting when he inadvertently touched my fingers? I didn’t imagine the tingle that shivered up my spine. What is wrong with you? Why are you still thinking about him? Vibra is launching in a couple of weeks. I opened the file and began tapping away on the keyboard.
Someone clearing his throat made me look up. I saw Paul, a coworker of mine, filling the doorway.
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“Hey. I’ve been elected by our floor to find out what Mr. Prescott is like.”
“Uh… he seems okay. I mean, he said he was committed to taking Velocity further and growing the firm at an exponential rate.”
“That’s what they all say.” Paul sat in one of the leather chairs in front of my desk. “Did he mention cutting down on jobs or any major changes?”
“No. He said he was going to keep the departments as they are. Mr. Linder knew what he was doing, so I doubt his grandson’s going to upset the apple cart. He’s probably only a figurehead while Mr. Linder runs the firm behind the scenes. Prescott has a reputation of being a major partier.” The minute the words came out of my mouth, I wished I could’ve taken them back. I had only been in the office for three hours and I’d managed to ruin my blouse, eat crow, and dis my new boss. Way to go.
“Do tell.” Paul leaned forward.
“I’m just going by the tabloids and celebrity magazines I see at the newsstands. I’m sure the majority of the stuff they print is bogus. I don’t know why I said that. I guess he doesn’t strike me as the CEO type. I don’t know.”
“Well, I’ve heard he’s kind of an ass, but good when it comes to business. He had that app thing, didn’t he?”
“Huh?” I looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What’re you talking about?”
“He designed some gaming app a few years ago and wound up making a mint from it. So he probably knows what he’s doing.”
“Well, that’s a start,” I muttered, turning my attention back to my computer, hoping Paul would take the hint and leave.
“All the women are chattering about how good-looking he is and what a catch he’d make. Is he that great-looking?”
My mouth went dry. “He’s just an average guy.” Trace’s Roman nose, strong jaw, and his perfectly arched eyebrows framing the most amazing gray eyes I’d ever seen flashed across my mind. I’m such a liar.
“Well, all I can say is it’s a good thing there’s a no-fraternization rule around here.” He chuckled as he pushed up from the chair. “I have to get the sketches to Graphics for the launch. I’ll let you know when they have some proofs.”
“Sounds good.” I watched as he sauntered out, then diverted my attention back to the screen. Without thinking, I minimized the window and typed “Trace Prescott San Francisco” into the search bar. Dozens of links populated the screen. I spotted the one about the app he invented and clicked on it. A younger version of Trace popped up with a long article written in a prestigious online business magazine that sang the praises of the young inventor. The rest of the links pertained to his playboy, booze-induced antics.
The vibration of my cell phone had it bouncing on the desk like a frenzied jumping bean and I clicked out of my Trace search in less than a second. Guilt assuaged me when I saw Kelsey’s name flashing on the screen. In the midst of all my morning drama, I’d forgotten to text her to make sure she was okay from the night before.
“Hey, Kels. How did last night turn out?”
“Perfect. Chandler was such a gentleman.”
I sniggered. “So you finally got his name right. That’s great. Do you have plans to meet up again?”
“Friday night. I love starting the weekend off with a hot date. Do you want to get something to eat after work tonight?”
“Love to. I heard Emerald’s in Union Square is fantastic. I’ve been wanting to try it out since it opened. Are you game for that?”
“Anything. I just want to tell you all about how wonderful Chandler is.”
“Can I borrow a blouse from you? I spilled coffee all over my new silk one.”
“The one you just bought? You can be so clumsy. You need to work on that. Men don’t like clumsy women,” she said.
Sometimes Kelsey made these offhand comments without realizing how hurtful they could be. We’d been talking for a few minutes, and the conversation had so far been all about her. I purposely avoided telling her about Trace or how the coffee spilled, then wondered if she’d ask me about my new boss.
“Cierra? Are you still there? Hello?”
“I’m still here. Will you remember to bring me a shirt?”
“Yeah, I will. What color is your skirt?”
“Black, so that makes it easy.”
“Got it. Let’s meet at six, okay?”
“See you later.” I placed the phone on my desk. Kelsey hadn’t asked me one question except the color of my skirt. That was pretty much par for the course.
Sofie popped her head in. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat after work?”
“I’m meeting up with Kelsey. Do you want to hang on Saturday?” I had no plans for the weekend except to catch up on my reading, a pile of business, cooking, and fashion magazines steadily competing to reach the heights of the Transamerica Pyramid.
“That’d be great.”
“Wanna go to the Tipsy Cow?” I knew Sofie was crazy for the impressive list of imported beers and the English guys who hung out at the neighborhood pub. Whenever Sofie heard a British accent, she’d turn to mush. I smiled when her eyes lit up.
“I love that place. I’ll meet you there at eight.”
For the rest of the day, I worked nonstop, all thoughts on the tasks at hand. I’d always been a good worker. I was the middle child, and I learned at an early age that I had to set myself apart from my older brother and younger sister if I wanted to be noticed. Getting good grades, earning some serious bucks when I was a teenager—I’d reigned supreme in the babysitting and part-time job circuits, and not giving my parents a major hard time, like my boy-crazy younger sister, gave me recognition amid all the hijinks drama that had shrouded my growing years.
Once I’d turned eighteen, I’d put dust behind me as I drove away from Fresno, swearing I’d never live there again. When I went back for breaks and the holidays, it seemed like I had never lived there. Weird, but since I’d moved to San Fran, I’d totally embraced the city. My life in Fresno seemed like a long time ago.
Everyone passing by my office signaled the end of the workday. I freshened up my makeup in the restroom, then went back to my office to return some phone calls. After a bit, I packed up my things and headed to the elevators, texting my brother as I walked in. The doors closed and the scent of expensive line-dried sheets mixed with salty herbs curled around me. I sucked in my breath and looked over my shoulder into Mr. Prescott’s mesmerizing gaze. The overhead light shone over him, and the color of his eyes reminded me of the ocean an instant before dawn’s first rays struck the water.
“Do you often stay after work, Ms. Duncan?” Leaning against the balustrade, he pinned me with his gaze.
“I suppose,” I mumbled, then turned my head to stare at our reflection in the gold-toned doors. He watched me intently, the only sound in the elevator the whoosh of air as it descended. I k
ept hoping we’d stop on a floor and pick up some passengers, but no such luck. It was just the two of us and a gulf of crackling tension.
Then I saw his gaze fixed on my butt and a knot of feelings surged through me: embarrassment, irritation, excitement. When a low throb pulsed between my legs, I cursed my body as I tried to avoid looking at his reflection. But I couldn’t. There was something about Trace Prescott that pulled me in, almost mesmerized me. It was the craziest thing, because I wasn’t one of those women who gushed and batted their eyes at every man who paid attention to them or threw them a compliment. And yet there I was feeling all kinds of good things in places I shouldn’t be.
He’s Kelsey’s ex. He treated her like shit. What the hell’s the matter with you?
“Are you going back to the club tonight?” His voice bounced off the walls, making me jump.
“No. I’m having dinner with Kelsey,” I said, wincing at how snippy my voice sounded.
“No doubt you’ll both have a good time bashing me.” He chuckled and took a step toward me.
“That’s not my style.” I took a step forward, moving closer to the door.
“That’s good to know.” Another step toward me.
I was practically fused to the door when the elevator stopped. My boss was so close behind me that I could feel his breath on the side of my neck. With my heart racing, I jumped out of the car when the doors opened. Another chuckle.
“Have a nice time, Ms. Duncan.”
I glanced back at him. “Thanks.”
As if I were trying to save my life, I dashed out of the building and didn’t stop until I had landed a cab and slipped inside. As I leaned back, I had to take several gulps of air to calm the hell down. What’s wrong with me? I’d never had a reaction like that to a man before. Even when I’d been in college and the all-star jock had asked me out on a date, I’d been pretty nonchalant about it, and none of the girls in my dorm could believe it. That’s just the way I was with men. I wasn’t always looking for a boyfriend like all my other women friends. Don’t get me wrong, I would’ve loved to have hooked up with a great guy, but I wasn’t in a perpetual search mode for Mr. Right. I’d always loved my alone time, even when I was a kid. I used to take my books and sit under our big, leafy oak tree and read the hours away. My sister and brother never could understand why I’d wanted to have some time to myself. I craved it and was a bit selfish about sharing it with just any man. Hence the reason I hadn’t had sex in over a year, and didn’t have anyone on my radar.
Maybe it’s because Prescott’s my boss. I’m probably freaked that he’ll fire me. There’s no way he can forget the things I said to him before knowing he was my boss. A screaming siren behind us tore through me as cars, buses, and trucks twisted and turned to let the ambulance push through. I glanced at the time and leaned my head against the cool glass of the window. The traffic began moving again, snaking up the hill, three lines of steel and tires.
Finally I arrived at Emerald’s. As I rushed up to the restaurant, I could see Kels sitting at a table by the window, looking perturbed at my tardiness. I went over to the table and threw my tote down on an empty chair. “Sorry. The traffic was a bitch,” I said as I pulled out the chair across from her.
“You should’ve left a little sooner. I’ve been waiting here for a while.” She handed me a shopping bag. “I brought you a blouse.”
“Thanks,” I muttered before going to the ladies’ room to change.
Emerald’s was a new restaurant in Union Square, and the retro chic décor gave it a casual and homey feel. Bright yellow walls supported gray tables and blue and white cushions perfectly. I sank down on one of the cushions and smiled at the waiter when he came over to take our order. The menu boasted comfort food with a healthy twist, so I ordered one of my all-time favorites—mac and cheese. A glass of merlot rounded out my order. Kels had a kale and spinach salad and a glass of chardonnay.
“Jason is the best. I really think something could come of this,” Kelsey said as she placed her fork down.
“Jason? Who’s that?”
“The guy I met last night.”
“I thought his name was Chandler. Are we talking about the same guy?”
Kelsey pressed her lips together and nodded. “I meant Chandler. Anyway, he’s awesome.”
“Who’s Jason?” I asked before I placed another mouthful of mac and cheese in my mouth.
“I don’t know. I misspoke. It’s not a big deal.” A frown creased her forehead.
I didn’t push it, but “Jason” and “Chandler” were not even close. “Chandler” and “Charlie,” okay, I got that, but “Jason”? Maybe she had a crush on another guy too and was just seeing who’d come through with the engagement ring. Kelsey was always looking for Mr. Right, and the more money he had, the better suited he’d be for her. She also rushed into things, proclaiming her love and Cinderella happy-ever-after ending after the second date. That was one of the main reasons she was always getting her heart broken. It was like she was too trusting in love, and I wasn’t trusting enough. There had to be a middle ground, but it seemed to elude us time and time again.
After gushing about her newfound love throughout our entrées and our plant-based chocolate cake, Kelsey said, “Wait. Didn’t your new boss take over today?”
I didn’t think we’d get there. “Yeah. Guess who it is.”
She shook her head. “I don’t even know who to guess.”
“Trace Prescott.”
With wide eyes, she brought her hand to the base of her throat. “You’re joking. No. You’re not. Trace is your boss? How didn’t you know that before today?”
“I’m sure the higher-ups knew, but the news wasn’t shared with us until today. And how didn’t you know Thomas Linder was his grandfather? You went out with him for over a month. Didn’t it ever come up in conversation?”
Her lips twitched. “We didn’t talk all that much. But wow, I can’t believe he’s your boss. That’s crazy.”
“I know. I’m sorta freaked about it, especially since I reamed on him last night.”
“What do you mean?” I filled Kelsey in and she glared at me. “I didn’t ask you to do that. What possessed you to?”
I thought we’d have a good laugh over it, so I was taken back by her anger. “You’d been crying up a storm for the last week. He really hurt you. I didn’t plan it. It just sorta happened.”
“I can’t believe you said that he was cheating on me. I feel like an idiot now.”
“You’re the one who said he was. You’ve been going on about how badly he treated you and what a cad he is.”
“I said I suspected he was cheating on me. I wish you would’ve minded your own business.” Kelsey pushed her bottom lip out a bit and stared out the window.
We sat in silence, licks of anger emanating from her. I really didn’t understand why she was so mad about what I did. Something wasn’t adding up.
“Will there be anything else?” the waiter asked. When we shook our heads, he placed the bill on the table.
Kelsey picked it up, took out her phone, and calculated our shares. After we paid the bill, she stood up. “I have to get going.”
I grabbed my tote and rose to my feet. “Me too. I’ll get the shirt back to you. I’m sorry about the Trace thing. I didn’t think you’d be upset by it. I thought we’d get a good laugh over it.”
“Well you thought wrong. Don’t say anything more to him about me. That’s all over now. I have Jason… I mean Chandler.”
As I followed her out, a suspicion niggled in the back of my mind that Kelsey was holding back. We’d been friends long enough for me to know when she was hiding something. I didn’t know what it was, and I hoped she’d tell me when she felt comfortable. But her making me feel like a total asshole for going to bat for her pissed me off. I quickly hailed a cab before I told her what I thought, not wanting to end the day with a big fight.
I directed the driver to stop at a corner store while I ran in and got a p
int of double chocolate ice cream with brownie bites. After the day I had and the way I was feeling, the plant-based chocolate cake hadn’t cut it at all.
I slid back in the cab and watched the streetlights turn on as we made our way to my apartment. I couldn’t wait to don my comfy pajamas, stretch out on the sofa, and watch a sappy movie while I devoured the ice cream.
Chapter Four
Trace
For the past three days, I succeeded in avoiding Cierra. Each night, I made sure I left with someone so I wouldn’t be caught alone in the elevator with her again. That night it was just the two of us, it was hard to keep from sweeping her long chestnut hair over her shoulder and giving her a quick kiss on the nape of her neck. A bewitching scent of cinnamon, musk, and vanilla roped around my dick, beckoning me to her. I probably creeped the hell out of her, and she was practically glued to the door when we reached the lobby. She couldn’t run away from me fast enough. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t act that way with chicks. To be honest, it was usually the other way around, the women doing the chasing—not boasting, just telling it like it was.
Running my hand through my hair, I walked toward the conference room. I’d called a meeting for all the heads of the departments to get a better feel for what they were working on and how things were shaping up. I knew Cierra would be there since she was filling in for Ms. Chamberlain. A small thread of excited anticipation wove through me as I took the seat at the head of the huge wood table.
I’d do my best to look knowledgeable and in control. Most of the employees only knew me through my reputation, the provocative photos and articles published about me, and to them, I was the rich playboy who was playing CEO. I had to set the record straight; I was there to do a job and do it well. Gossip and resentment had to be left outside the workplace. I was in charge, and mutual respect was imperative.
As the people came in, I saw her sandwiched between the woman from Graphics and the dude from Publishing. She looked beautiful with her glossy hair wrapped in a bun with strands of it dangling down her back, a dusting of freckles over her nose and cheeks, and her eyes the color of sun-dried beech wood. Add a pencil skirt and a purple lace top and I was on track to be the only CEO to hold office for four days. Cierra glanced over and met my gaze, smiling softly before she turned away and snagged a chair at the opposite end of the table.
