Fatal Attraction

by Mia Ford

  “So, you’re worried that Price Bean & Whitlock may want to move manufacturing out of the country?” I asked. “To China or Mexico, maybe?”

  He gave me a slow nod. “Yes, that is a concern.”

  “And what did your in-house counsel say?” I asked. I looked around the conference room as if I’d just noticed we were alone. “I assume he negotiated this contract. In fact, why isn’t he here?”

  “Jeff has been pushing this deal hard,” he said, referring to Jeff Chase, his in-house attorney and oldest friend. “A little too hard for my taste. That’s why you’re here to offer a second set of eyes.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” I asked. “He’s been pushing the deal hard?”

  “He’s a shareholder, and the shareholders want to sell,” Uncle Allen said with a shrug. “And I don’t blame them. Especially Jeff. He’s been with me since day one and worked for peanuts a lot of those years. He owns a lot of stock. He’ll profit handsomely if we sell.”

  There was a red flag if I’d ever seen one. I leaned in and looked him in the eye. “Do you think he is letting his own potential for profit influence his fiduciary duties? I mean, if he is offering you legal advice based on his own best interest, that is so unethical that he could be disbarred.”

  “No, no, no,” he said, hands patting the air. “Jeff would never let personal greed sway his loyalty to me, or his professional duties as my in-house counsel.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “You’re here because you’re the best contracts attorney I know, and I trust you implicitly. Anyway, back to your original question about outsourcing, Jeff said that even if we added a clause prohibiting Price from moving those manufacturing jobs out of the states after the acquisition, their lawyers could get such a ban squashed after the fact if they could prove the company would benefit by moving things off shore.”

  “So why bother adding the clause?”

  “Exactly.”

  I studied his face for a moment. It pained me to see him so worried. “Have you had this conversation with Price? Who is your point of contact there?”

  “Reed Helstrom, the senior partner who I’ve known for years, and the young guy in charge of acquisitions, hot shot investment banker named Conner McGee. He’s probably your age or a little older. Ever heard of him?”

  “No, but if he’s in charge of acquisitions at Price Bean & Whitlock before age fifty he must be a shark.”

  “Oh, he’s a shark, all right,” Uncle Allen said. “You’ll get to meet them both tonight at dinner.”

  “So, when you talked to Helstrom and McGee about your concerns, what did they say?”

  “Reed assures me that nothing is going to change. Things will continue exactly as they have been, with me in charge and manufacturing staying here.”

  “And you believe them?”

  “I have no reason not to, not really.”

  “And that’s the only concern you have?” I asked. “That they will shut down the plant and outsource the jobs?”

  He thought about it for a moment, then began to nod. “I don’t trust the bastards, but yes, that’s my only fear. Price Bean & Whitlock has a reputation of buying businesses and parting them out to sell off the weaker pieces, but BD is strong across the board. There would be one reason I can think of to sell off the pieces when the whole pie is worth ten times more.”

  “Then it sounds like a great deal, dear uncle” I said with a smile, picking up the contract and tapping it on the table. “And I’ll be expecting a very expensive Christmas gift this year. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

  “I need you to sit down with these bastards and go over this contract line by line before I present it to the board for signatures,” he said, leaning in to tap a stiff finger to the table. “Get across the table from Conner McGee and make sure we’re not missing something. Make sure that me and my people don’t get double-crossed somehow.”

  “Three-hundred-million-dollars is a lot to spend just to double-cross someone,” I said. I sat back and thought things through for a moment. “How long will it take Price Bean & Whitlock to see a return on their investment if things continue as they are now?”

  He took a long breath and did the math in his head. “Probably five or six years, give or take changes to the industry and our ability to keep up. Why?”

  “You mentioned selling off the weaker pieces.”

  “There are none,” he said quickly.

  “If they did break up the company, would it increase the time it takes to see a return?”

  “I’ve thought about that, too,” he said. “I don’t see how they could speed up or increase return on investment by breaking the company up. The pieces aren’t worth the sum of the whole business.”

  “Well, then I guess we just sit down with them and see what they say,” I said. I pushed up my sleeve to look at the watch Uncle Allen had given me when I graduated law school. Instead of giving me a $10,000 Rolex, he’d given me a $50 Timex with a note that read: Time is money, don’t waste either one!

  I asked, “What time are we meeting them for dinner?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Eight o’clock, so three hours. At the Roxie downtown. It’s a little ritzy for my taste, but they do have a good porterhouse steak.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go back to my place to freshen up.” I gathered up the contract and tucked it inside my briefcase, then let him escort me out. He had a car waiting for me at the curb.

  “I don’t mind taking the subway,” I said.

  “The subway is a dangerous place,” he said. “You need a car.”

  “I wouldn’t even attempt to drive in New York City.”

  “Then you need to demand a car service the next time you negotiate your employment contract,” he said. “Or just come to work for me.”

  “I like my job and I don’t mind the subway,” I said before getting into the car. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’re playing fair.”

  “I knew you would, Katie O’Hara,” he said before closing the car door. “With you on my team, I know I can’t lose.”

  Chapter 12: Conner

  “I can’t believe you tried to ditch me,” Cassandra said as I held open the door to the limo for her. Just the sight of her made my mouth water. She looked stunning in a short, red-sequined dress that showed off her ample cleavage and long, tanned legs. She was wearing six-inch stilettos that made the muscles in her legs pop. Her hair and makeup were flawless, as always.

  I knew she wasn’t wearing panties.

  She never did.

  The thought made my cock hard.

  “I wasn’t trying to ditch you, my darling,” I said, climbing into the limo behind her and closing the door. “I just didn’t think you’d want to sit through another long, boring business dinner.”

  “A long, boring business dinner at the Roxie, which happens to be my favorite restaurant,” she huffed. “My feelings are terribly hurt.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said sheepishly. The air was filled with the sweet scent of her perfume. I inhaled deeply and sighed. “It won’t happen again.”

  “It better not,” she said playfully, tapping the tip of my nose with one of the long fingernails that would bring blood to my back later tonight.

  “To the Roxie, Sam,” I said, leaning toward the driver’s seat. “And take the long way.”

  Sam, who had been my driver long enough to know what was about to happen in the back of the limo, gave me a nod. Our eyes briefly met in the rearview mirror as I raised the privacy screen behind his seat, so Cass and I could be alone. He gave me a knowing smile and pulled from the curb. Sam was paid three times what most limo drivers earned. He was paid for his discretion, not his driving skills.

  “You know how business fascinates me,” Cass said. She had a small pocket book in her lap. She clicked it open and took out a compact, opened it up, and checked her lips in the mirror. They were pained deep
red. She ran her moist tongue across them as she spoke. She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “And you know how hot I get listening to you negotiate deals.”

  “Well, hopefully this dinner will go quickly,” I said, drawing circles on her thigh with the tip of my finger. “And we can get on to more pleasurable negotiations.”

  “Mmmm, that sounds promising,” she said as she put the compact away. She put her hand on mind to stop it from sliding between her legs. “Hang on there, Romeo.”

  I frowned. We always had sex in the limo. It was kind of our thing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Tell me who we’re meeting again?”

  I kept frowning. I tried to tug my hand free, but Cass was stronger than she looked. “Why do you care who we’re meeting?”

  “Because, my darling, I need to know if you need me to distract them with my tits or impress them with my brain,” she said seriously. “What’s the goal? And how can I help you obtain it.”

  My hand relaxed on her leg. “We’re meeting Allen Benson. He is the CEO of a company we’re trying to acquire.”

  “What kind of company?”

  “A computer parts manufacturer.”

  Cass was the one frowning now. “A computer parts manufacturer? Price Bean & Whitlock doesn’t play in the manufacturing space.” She cut me a sideways glance. “What’s the angle, McGee?”

  I should not have been, but I was always surprised when Cassandra talked about business. As she would say herself, she wasn’t all big tits and tight pussy.

  She had a BA from Harvard, and an MBA from the Wharton School of Business, and a brilliant business mind. Since joining her father’s company as the Senior Vice President of Global Strategy, she had increased profits threefold, making her daddy one of the richest men on the planet with her nipping at his heels.

  Men often misjudged her because of her looks, which she loved because it gave her the advantage. She could distract a man with her looks and pick his pockets—or corporate accounts—clean before he knew what he’d gotten himself into. They had no idea that inside that beautiful head of hers was one of the sharpest business minds on the planet. There was not a business deal that Cassandra Leone could not negotiate like a killer shark and come out the winner on the other side.

  “The angle is, Price Bean & Whitlock doesn’t give a shit about his manufacturing operation,” I said, my fingers gently massaging her thigh again, even though she was still holding my hand in place. “In fact, after the deal is closed we’ll part out the manufacturing and sell it off to the highest bidder.”

  “So, it’s a flip?” she said, narrowing her blue eyes at me. “Nope, I don’t buy it.”

  “What’s not to buy?” I asked innocently. Dammit, this woman knew me too well.

  “Price Bean & Whitlock does not flip businesses,” she said, shaking her head without taking her eyes off mine. “There’s not enough return on investment.”

  “Fine,” I said, pulling my hand back and pouting like a child. “We want his patents.”

  “His patents?” I could hear the change in her voice. She was salivating like the aforementioned shark anticipating a meal. “What kind of patents? Equipment? Processes? Intellectual property?”

  “Allen Benson designed a new type of computer chip that could possibly make all other chips obsolete within the next few years,” I said. “He was just granted a United States patent on the design, which alone could be worth billions of dollars. More if he chose to license it to other manufacturers.”

  She put a finger to her chin and pooched her lips. “I don’t understand. Why would Allen Benson sell you his company if this new chip patent promised such profits?”

  “Because he’s under the impression that Price Bean & Whitlock will buy the company and keep things just as they are.” I picked lint off my knee and flicked it away like I was bored with the conversation. “He believes the new chip technology will be used only for Benson Digital and not licensed to competitors.”

  “And I assume that impression is incorrect,” she said. “And that Mr. Benson is in for a surprise after the ink on the contract dries—if not before.”

  “That’s not my problem,” I said, shrugging. “He’s going to personally pocket a hundred-million-dollars, so, I don’t think he’ll have too much right to complain when we lay out our plans to the board after the deal is done.”

  A look of recognition slowly washed over her beautiful face. “And you expect him to be resistant.”

  “Yes. That is probably putting it mildly. He’ll fight us at every turn.”

  “Which will give you the ammunition you need to lobby against him with the board to get him ousted so you can do whatever you want with the company and the assets. And the patent.”

  “That will be his choice,” I said. “The agreement states that he keeps his CEO title and his seat on the board for three years unless he is outed for just cause. However, Price Bean & Whitlock gets three board seats and I already have several of the current board members on our side. They just had to do the math to realize the enormous return on licensing or selling the patent outright. It’ll be a simple process, really. The board vote will go our way. I’m sure of it. And Allen Benson can play ball, or he can take his hundred-million-bucks and go home. It will be totally up to him.”

  “Why not offer to buy the patents outright and let him keep the company?” she asked. “Why go to all this trouble?”

  “Because, my darling, Allen Benson is one of those goody-goody entrepreneurs who cares more about his legacy and the people who work for him than he does profits. If he had a clue what we had planned the deal would fall through. This dinner is to assure him that all is well, and he needs to sign the fucking agreement, so we can all move on.”

  “So, we’re meeting with Allen Benson,” she said, nodding. I could almost hear the gears in her pretty head turning. “Who’s he bringing with him?”

  “What makes you think he’s bringing anyone with him?” I asked.

  “Because he’d be a fool to come alone,” she said, one eyebrow arching. “Who’s he bringing?”

  “Some contracts attorney from Yates Hamilton & Booz,” I said, wincing like the words left a bad taste in my mouth. I hated Yates Hamilton & Booz. They were incorruptible. I had no respect for a lawyer who couldn’t be bought.

  “Yates Hamilton & Booz? They do mostly corporate litigation work, white collar crime type stuff.” She cupped two fingers to her chin and hummed a moment. “Why would Allen Benson have a firm like Yates review the deal? I assume it’s passed muster with his in-house counsel?”

  “Reed thinks Benson has lost faith in his in-house counsel,” I said. My hand went back to her thigh. I was like a little kid who was trying to keep his hand out of the cookie jar. I began drawing slow circles on her knee. She gave me a smile and ran her tongue across her top lip. I knew our conversation about business was ending. Now it was time to get down to my favorite kind of business. Finally!

  She sighed out the words. “So, Benson is bringing in a fresh set of eyes to review the deal before signing.”

  “Yes. It appears so.” My hand slid between her soft thighs. I nuzzled her neck with my lips.

  She leaned her head to the side, so that my tongue could get to her ear.

  She sighed again as my tongue circled the rim of her ear.

  She said, “And Reed is not too worried?”

  “Reed thinks Allen Benson can be pacified,” I said, nibbling my way down her jawline toward her chin. “The deal should close quickly if we can give him the warm and fuzzies at this dinner tonight.”

  “Like the warm and fuzzies you’re giving me right now?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Something like that.”

  She leaned back in the seat and gave me a dreamy look. “Would you like a little appetizer on the way to the restaurant?”

  I smiled. “I thought you would never ask.”

  Cassandra lifted her ass off the seat to hike up her dress. She lea
ned back again and spread her legs for me, revealing her beautiful, pink, shaved pussy to me. Her clit was pink and plump as my little finger. She ran her finger over it and sighed.

  “Are you happy now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

  “I’m very happy now,” I said, leaning down to kiss her lips. Her mouth was hot and wet. Her tongue darted out to meet mine. My hand slid up her inner thigh. Her pussy was wet and warm, inviting. My fingers slid easily inside her. My thumb rolled over her clit.

  “Mmmm, that feels good…” she said, putting her hands to my cheeks to kiss me again. “Use your tongue… you know I love it… when you use your tongue…”

  “Yes, your highness,” I said. “Whatever you desire.”

  “I desire your tongue… now…”

  The back of the limo was roomy enough that Cass could lean back with her legs spread and I could kneel in the floor between her legs. I took off my jacket and set it aside, then got into the floor and pushed her thighs apart. The scent of her pussy filled the air. I inhaled with a smile. Lavender and strawberry, my favorite.

  I lowered my lips to her clit and sucked on it gently. Cass gasped a quick breath and moaned. I glanced up at her while my lips worked hers. Her head was lolled to the side. Her eyes were closed. Her hands were on her breasts, squeezing. She was biting her bottom lip. And her juices were flowing like a warm mountain stream.