Annihilate Me (Vol. 1) (The Annihilate Me Series)

by Christina Ross

  “Which means this is working. Thank you for that.”

  “My pleasure. And thank you for the job.”

  “I hope it doesn’t feel like a job to you.”

  There was a new note to his voice that I couldn’t define. Why do I feel as if this is sliding in the wrong direction? Keep it light. “Look at me. I’m all dolled up. This is fun.” I nodded across the room. “Darius is parting company. Now’s your chance to say hello.”

  And Alex did.

  After a few minutes of introductions and conversation, in which Alex only talked family with Darius, he turned and looked in surprise at Cyrus, who was standing behind him.

  “Cyrus,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

  “How are you, Alex?”

  “I’m fine. And I’m happy to see you. This is Jennifer Kent.”

  Cyrus looked at me longingly and openly, leaving no doubt that on some level, he found me attractive. “I’ve been watching you since I first saw you,” he said. “I think you noticed. Or I hope you did. Sorry, Alex. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. You’re lovely, Ms. Kent.”

  For whatever reason, Alex’s hand tightened around my own. It wasn’t just a squeeze. It felt possessive. There was a definite shift in the air. “We recently began seeing each other.”

  “Congratulations. I can see why. A friend of mine, Constantine, also noticed you, Ms. Kent. I have a feeling he and I are not alone.”

  “Cyrus,” Alex said, “I have a proposition for you.”

  “But I was just admiring Ms. Kent, Alex. Why take the spotlight off her so quickly? I have a feeling most of the men here tonight are also admiring her. Where are you from, Jennifer? If I might call you Jennifer.”

  “Jennifer is fine, Cyrus. I’m from Maine.”

  “Maine. It’s beautiful there. Of course Maine would produce you. It makes sense, don’t you agree, Alex? Only Maine would produce this kind of raw beauty.”

  Was he serious? Who talked like that?

  “If we could talk about the proposition....”

  “You mean the proposition you have for my father?”

  “No, actually I have one for you. Would you care to hear it? I think it might interest you.”

  A server came up beside me, interrupting the conversation. I looked at him. “Yes?”

  “I have two drinks for you, madam.”

  “From whom?”

  “Two gentlemen admirers. I believe they’ll introduce themselves to you later.”

  I looked at Alex, who looked annoyed. “One glass of champagne is enough for me,” I said.

  “You should indulge,” Cyrus said. “You’re obviously a hit here tonight. You’re a new face. And a stunning one. Sorry, Alex, but it’s true. I’ve been watching the men watch her. We need someone like Jennifer here tonight—she’s made it more interesting. Everybody else knows one another. I have a feeling that people don’t know that she’s with you. I certainly didn’t earlier because I was planning on approaching her myself. Is this serious?”

  “Very.”

  The server looked confused. “Should I take away the drinks, madam?”

  “Yes. And please thank whoever sent them. But I never have more than one drink, so I’m afraid I’ll need to pass.”

  “She’s also with me,” Alex said. “I expect you to tell them that.”

  The server nodded and walked away.

  “That sounded territorial,” Cyrus said. “But I don’t blame you. If she were with me, I’d do the same thing.”

  “About the proposition,” Alex said.

  “Of course. I’d like to hear it. Will Jennifer come? I assume she knows about it.”

  Again, Alex’s hand, this time just above my ass.

  “If you’d like. I think Jennifer would be happy to come.”

  Cyrus looked at me, his eyes drifting away from mine and down to my breasts. He was good looking, sure, but also an absolute creep. “I would like.”

  For reasons I didn’t understand, Alex looked as if he was seething. He was getting his audience with Cyrus, which is what he wanted. I was supposed to be nothing but an object to him. That was the arrangement. Why would he care if others were paying attention to me? Why the sudden change in mood? I didn’t get it.

  “Then let’s talk,” he said.

  CHAPT

  ER NINETEEN

  As Alex planted the seed of his idea, Cyrus seemed less interested in it than he did in me. Alex made his pitch, but Cyrus kept stealing glances at me, which I thought was rude. This time, it was my hand that went to the small of Alex’s back, which stiffened when I touched it. Instinctively, I pulled back. What was his problem?

  “So, you need our ships?” Cyrus said when Alex was finished.

  “In a mutually beneficial relationship, yes.”

  “Are you able to send me a formal proposal? I’d like to show it to my father. He will need to be involved in this, though I’m happy that you came to me first. I appreciate it.”

  “You’ll have a formal proposal tomorrow. It’s clear to all of us that one day you’ll take over for your father. Out of respect for that, I wanted to come to you first.”

  “That was kind of you.” Cyrus turned to me, his gaze lingering once more on my breasts. Despite how indecent he was being, I kept my expression interested and polite in an effort to help Alex. “What do you think of the deal, Jennifer? Should we take it?”

  “I don’t think I’m qualified to answer,” I said.

  He turned to Alex. “Is she qualified?”

  “She’s more than qualified.”

  “Do you mind if I hear her opinion?”

  “If you’d like. Of course.”

  There was a coldness to his voice that I didn’t understand, but my job here was to assist him, so I did. I cocked my head to the side so Cyrus would lift his eyes to meet mine. When they did, I went in for the kill. “I see it as win-win. Wenn Oil is an industry leader. So is Stavros Shipping. I recently read that you increased your fleet of ships substantially when you took over a significant portion of Anastassios Fondaras’ shipping company. I think you know the report I’m referring to.”

  “The one in the Journal?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Not all of that is true.”

  “Probably not—journalists always tend to get some details wrong. But if you do have several ships sitting empty due to the economy, here’s an option. And from where I stand, it’s a solid one. Wenn Oil has a steady supply of petroleum it must distribute. You have the means to make that happen. Come together on a fair price, and I think everyone will be pleased.” I paused for a moment, and then I smiled at him. “I think your father would be impressed that it was you who nailed this down. Alex could go to any number of industry people he knows—he has the world at his disposal—but he didn’t. He told me tonight that he wanted to work with you. He made that very clear. It’s why we came tonight.”

  “It was?”

  “It was. Alex said that was his goal. I assume the fact that it was he who came to you about the deal will remain private. Just between you two.”

  “It would,” Alex said. “As far as I’m concerned, this is your deal to propose, Cyrus. You’re the one who thought of it, not me.”

  “Wenn Oil is a catch,” I said. “Your father knows that. This could be a significant deal if negotiations go well, assuming they go forward at all. I guess that depends on you and your father, and on how you respond to the proposal.”

  “And here you thought you weren’t qualified to talk on the topic. You’re very bright, Jennifer. Looking the way you do, I wouldn’t have expected that.”

  Sexist motherfucker. “I hope I didn’t speak out of turn.”

  “Of course not. I asked your opinion. I just didn’t realize it would be so informed.”

  I was insulted, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I smiled. “Business is in my blood. It’s one of the reasons I’m with Alex. Finally, someone I can talk to who gets it.”

&nb
sp; “I wonder who else you could talk to who gets it?”

  He didn’t allow me a chance to respond.

  “I’m eager to see the proposal,” Cyrus said. “Will you email it directly to me, Alex? There’s no need to CC my father.”

  “Of course.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon?”

  “You’ll have it by noon.”

  “And I’ll be in touch, hopefully sooner than later. I appreciate that you thought of me first. Or was that Jennifer’s idea?”

  “It was Alex’s,” I answered.

  “Jennifer is right,” Alex said. “We’ve known each other for years, Cyrus. You were at the top of my list. Of course, I’d come to you first.”

  “Others would have gone to my father. We’ll work something out. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Thank you, Cyrus.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He turned to me. “And it was nice meeting you, Jennifer. A pleasure. Alex is a lucky man.”

  “I know I am, Cyrus,” Alex said. “Until tomorrow.” He reached for my hand, and we walked into the crowd.

  CHAP

  TER TWENTY

  With Alex’s hand firmly holding mine, we stepped away from Cyrus, past the bubbling pool, up a set of stairs, and down the hallway that led to the Grille Room—and the exit beyond.

  People tried to stop and talk to Alex along the way, but he only offered them a curt nod and a smile, which was unlike him.

  Given the briskness with which he walked, the night obviously was over. Our mission was accomplished. There was no question in my mind that Cyrus would respond positively to Alex’s proposal. But right now there was a clear undercurrent that Alex was unhappy with me.

  I glanced at him, and saw that his face was set. Expressionless. He looked like a different person to me. Whatever warmth and humor he had shown to me earlier was now gone.

  What did I do wrong? Did it really matter to him that I told him that I thought Cyrus was good looking? Was that it? Or that men ordered me drinks? Or that Cyrus wouldn’t stop coming on to me? It didn’t make sense to me. Why would that matter to him? I was an object to him. That’s what we agreed upon. Again, the only thing I could imagine is that by saying that I thought Cyrus was attractive, I’d broken the illusion that we were a couple. Nothing else that had happened was in my control. It seemed absurd to me that he’d react so strongly to my faux pas and to Cyrus’ advances when he had clearly noted that this was a business arrangement. I might be wrong, but my gut said differently.

  Ahead of us, an orchestra was playing in the Grille Room. When we arrived earlier, there was no orchestra or dancing. But now, far ahead of us, I could see people waltzing as their heads dipped and lifted to the music.

  Coming toward us was a server with flutes of champagne on a silver tray. I tried to slow our pace to take one of the glasses because I was thirsty, but Alex was having none of it. He urged me forward and we walked past the man. To our right were the stairs that would lead out of the building and down to the street. This night was over with an exclamation point. Somehow, I’d blown it. Apparently, for whatever reason, this was it for Wenn Enterprises and me.

  “Alex,” I said.

  He turned to me with steel in his eyes. “Would you like to dance with me?” he asked.

  I was startled by the question. I thought for certain we were leaving. When I didn’t immediately respond, he said, “Today, you said that it had been a long time since you danced. I’d like to dance with you. Would you consider that?”

  We stopped beside the staircase.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  “I’m asking if you’d like to dance. It was part of our agreement. You said that a dance was permissible. I’d like to have that dance.”

  “I haven’t danced in years. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

  “You’re quick on your feet. You just proved that. All you need to do is follow me.”

  He was looking at me with an intensity that burned. The offer to dance wasn’t a question. It was a deal breaker if I declined.

  “Of course. I’d love to dance with you,” I said.

  “Then let’s do it.”

  He led me to the dance floor where we moved into the swirling crowd. He put his right hand in the middle of my back, lifted my right hand with his left, pulled me close to him, and we began to waltz.

  Only this was no ordinary waltz.

  Alex took charge at once and began to aggressively twirl me to the point that it was dizzying. People cleared the way for us, and others along the sidelines gathered to watch as Alex led me across the dance floor in fluid steps that were so quick and precise, I needed to put my full trust in him in order to keep up, look elegant, and make certain that I didn’t make a fool of us.

  For whatever reason, he was challenging me. If I stumbled, he’d make a fool of me. I didn’t know why he was doing this, but he was, and I was damned if he was going to best me. When I was young and my mother was sober, she made sure I had years of dance lessons, which she herself enjoyed as a child.

  What I remembered about the waltz was that to fully succeed at it, I needed to give myself over to my partner, which I did now. I leaned into Alex, turned about the floor with him, and dropped my head back as he spun me around and around and around while the crowd began to engage with interest. I made two missteps, which I secretly cursed, but when he went for the throwaway, I was prepared for it. I stretched my left leg back as far as I could, and he reached his right leg behind him in a similar fashion. We paused for a dramatic, romantic moment with our faces turned away from each other, and then he scooped me into his arms again, and we completed the dance to a rush of applause.

  Alex took my hand. He bowed while I curtsied. I heard people call out his name, and then, with a pissed off look on his face, he started to leave the floor just as the orchestra started up again, this time to a slower waltz.

  I pulled him back to me.

  “We’re not finished yet,” I said to him.

  “Yes, we are.”

  I put my arms around him, and gave him no choice but to dance. Too many people were watching us for him to leave now. He saw it, and knew it. Our bodies again became one. We started to move. I looked up at him, and saw a mixture of emotions on his face that I couldn’t read.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  “I don’t have a problem.”

  “You just tried to make a fool of me, and you lost. I may have come from nothing, Alex, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to waltz. My mother made sure of that.”

  “Apparently, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He didn’t answer.”

  “Why would you want to sabotage me like that?” I asked.

  “Don’t be dramatic.”

  And then, without a trace of irony on his face, he looked me in the eyes and dipped me dramatically. The move was so aggressive and it hurt my arm so much, I nearly fell, but I was able to right myself before I went down. He lifted me back up.

  “What the hell was that?” I said in his ear. “You hurt me. What’s your problem? Be a man about it. What’s the issue?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Well, you did. You just hurt my arm.”

  “I thought we were together tonight.”

  “We have a business arrangement. By all accounts, we are together. A moment ago, everyone in this room thought we were the happiest couple on Earth.”

  “Including the ones who sent you drinks?”

  “And that’s my fault?”

  “And Cyrus, who obviously would take you home tonight if you let him?

  “That’s his issue, not mine. I never once engaged him. I deflected every compliment that came my way.”

  “If we were a couple, you never would have said that you found Cyrus attractive.”

  I tried to keep my voice low. “I’m sorry, but we are not a couple. You’re my employer. Today, we came to an agreeme
nt, which I have stuck to. And then there’s Blackwell. Blackwell told me to remove myself emotionally from you. She said I’d only ever be an object to you. She warned me against you.”

  “She did what?”

  “Ask her. And by the way, Alex, Cyrus is attractive, at least physically. Otherwise, I find him risible. I couldn’t stand his eyes on me. Good luck to him. He’s a fucking creep. And he sure as hell isn’t my type.”

  “What is your type?”

  “Why does it matter? Why don’t we just leave?”

  “Because we’re mid-song. You wanted this dance, so we finish it. What’s your type?”

  If I didn’t stay, I’d lose a day’s worth of pay that I couldn’t afford to lose. After buying the Prada suit and the shoes I wore to my interview with him, I needed that money more than ever, even if the pay was just under a thousand dollars. A thousand dollars was a lot to me. It would help keep my own wolves at bay. So, we danced.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Why are you being so hostile?”

  “I could ask the same of you. You wanted to make a laughingstock out of me on this floor, but you failed.”

  “The dance isn’t over yet.”

  “What the hell does that mean? If you try anything with me, I swear to God I’ll trip us both up. Both of us will go down. I’ll make certain of that, Alex.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  I leaned close to his ear. “Really? Because you don’t tell me what to do. What’s worse is that you knew exactly what you were doing to me during our last dance, but you came up empty. Sorry about that—someone had to lose, and that was you. And by the way, Alex, yes, I know you have a lot of money—obviously—but do you really think that means shit to me? Because if you do, I’m here to tell you it doesn’t. If you think it does, then you truly know nothing about Maine or its people, who you claim to know because you spent a few summers there and mingled with the commoners. You know—people like me. How nice for you. How humbling that must have been for you. Too bad you didn’t learn from it.”