Devil's Deal

by Michele Arris

  Chapter Eight

  “What are your plans today, Faith?” Bailey bit into her toast and sipped her cranberry juice as she eyed Faith over the rim of her glass.

  “Nothing much—catch up with some friends, I guess.” Standing at the stove, Faith flipped the pancake and turned the Canadian bacon in the skillet.

  “Good morning. Yum! That smells wonderful!” Sienna entered the kitchen dressed in her docent white button-down blouse and black skirt suit. She took the plate Faith handed her and sat at the island across from Bailey.

  “We had a good time last night didn’t we, Faith?” She stuck a piece of bacon in her mouth and gave a look over her shoulder. “You and Diego seemed to hit it off.”

  “Yeah, Diego is a cutie. He’s an awesome drummer.” Faith turned off the stove, brought her plate to the island, and took a seat on the empty stool next to Sienna. “Now Kevin on the other hand ... hot. Bailey, Kevin expected you to show up.” She smothered her pancakes in maple syrup, adding, “He’s really sexy, and I’m digging the blond dreads.”

  Bailey eyed Faith over her juice glass. The girl always had to size up every man she met.

  “Kev did keep an eye on his watch until I told him that you’d texted and were gonna be a no show,” Sienna told her. “We missed you, but I’m glad you finally got a design project. That’s awesome, girlfriend.” She reached across the narrow Formica countertop and gave Bailey a hug.

  “I know I’d promised Kevin that I’d be there, but Lu ... my client is very demanding.” Bailey had intentionally left out of her text to Sienna that her first assignment was none other than Lucas Marx’s home. “I didn’t leave his home until after ten. He—” she started.

  “He!” Sienna and Faith burst out loudly in unison, and Sienna smirked, asking, “Is he hot? Will he make it difficult for you to keep your mind on your duties, Miss Walters?” she teased and Faith laughed.

  Remembering the feel of Lucas’s soft lips against hers, the sweet glide of his warm tongue, and his big, strong hand between her thighs, Bailey’s core pulsed with unquenched need. Add to it the dream she’d had of Lucas’s face burrowed between her thighs, if Sienna only knew how right on the mark she was with that one. That reminded Bailey. “I may have sold one of your art pieces.”

  Sienna jumped up. “Oh my God! Seriously?”

  “Do you still have the one you painted in college? That large abstract oil painting of dark and light browns, with tan, burnt orange, and red splashes on black canvas?”

  “I remember that one. It’s beautiful,” Faith said.

  “I have all my work in storage. Does he really want it?”

  Sienna’s voice was skeptical. She’d sold a piece here and there over the years, but nothing to really speak of. To have someone even consider her piece was big, Bailey understood. “I have to show it to him first, but I’m sure I can convince him. It would work well with his decor.”

  “Yes! That’s awesome!” Sienna did a happy tap dance, spun around, and then quickly sobered, hugging her again. “Bails, girl, thanks for looking out.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. He has to sign off on it.” As Bailey finished off her juice, she contemplated whether she should reveal the name of her client. Why not? He’s just a client, an assignment, nothing more. “Here’s the thing. My client is Lucas Marx.”

  “No way!” Sienna gasped around her mouthful of pancake. “How?”

  “Why does that name sounds so familiar?” Faith asked.

  Bailey got up and went to the sink to wash her plate and juice glass. “Apparently, the man is involved with my boss.” She smirked at Sienna’s trail of curse words. “He says their history is just that, history, but it’s whatever.” A shrug. “He’s still trying to hook up with me, but I’m not jeopardizing my job by sleeping with him.” Kissing the man like a starved-craving addict doesn’t count.

  “Wait.” Faith left the kitchen and ran to Sienna’s bedroom.

  Sienna dropped back down on the stool. “Does he think you’re gonna spread your legs if he gives you the work on his home? The bastard.” She stuck a piece of bacon in her mouth, chewed, and wagged her fork between them. “I don’t want him to have my painting. It’s good you turned his ass down, too. Who does he think he is? You keep that shit strictly business. Don’t go there with him and end up losing your job.”

  Bailey dried her dishes and utensils and put them away, then went over to the island. “Lucas was just as surprised to see me working at Callaghan’s as I was to see him standing there. It wasn’t his idea to put me on the project. It was the lead designer, Brian. Sandra wasn’t thrilled about it, but since Lucas gave the okay, Sandra wasn’t about to go against his decision. As for your art, you’re not passing up this opportunity. Your work is spectacular. Who knows, some of his rich friends could see it and want a Sienna original.” Bailey and Sienna looked over as Faith returned carrying Sienna’s laptop.

  “Look.” Faith set the computer on the island between them. “I knew his name was familiar. It was the case my dad was involved in—Marx Venture Capital, MVC, almost ten years ago. It was Logan Marx that I remembered. He’s Lucas Marx’s father ... or was. He’s dead now. The case had something to do with unfair business practices by MVC. My dad was caught up in that mess involving this guy.” Faith pointed to the picture on the screen.

  “Yes, I remember.” Sienna looked at Bailey. “You don’t know about the case?”

  Bailey shook her head. “No, what happened?”

  “In a nutshell, MVC was essentially strong-arming companies, stripping desperate owners of their business by acquiring them at low cost with an understanding to keep them on, but then they’d turn around and sell, leaving the former owners with nothing—something along those lines. It was alleged that Faith’s father got bought off, which resulted in Logan Marx and MVC being absolved of all charges.”

  Faith frowned. “It wasn’t true. My dad didn’t break the law.”

  Sienna lightly touched her forearm. “Sweetie, I didn’t say he did. I was merely explaining to Bailey what happened.” At Faith’s nod, Sienna tapped Logan Marx’s image on the screen. “Anyway, that was this guy’s deal, not Lucas’s. He shouldn’t be blamed for what his father did. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to suffer for the sins of my mother, that’s for damn sure.”

  Thinking of Sienna’s drug-addicted mother and all that she’d endured because of it, Bailey took her friend’s hand, and gave it a light supportive squeeze.

  Sienna clicked a link and read the article. “It says here that at twenty-eight, Fortune and Forbes named Lucas Marx the fourth youngest millionaire CEO.” She clicked a Vanity Fair link next that pictured him in an article with a crown hovering just above his head. The title read, “Multi-millionaire Playboy Heir Lucas Marx May Soon Wear the Crown Billionaire ... Stay Tuned.”

  “Look, it says, ‘Following Logan Marx’s heart attack and subsequent death, the son took the reins of Marx Venture Capital (MVC) and restored the family name to its former glory in a short span of three years.”

  “Yes, but see this.” Bailey directed their attention farther down the article. “It also says, ‘It would seem the powerhouse, Lucas Marx, is a force to be reckoned with, both in the boardroom ... and the boudoir.’ Typical,” she scoffed.

  Faith clicked on another article headline showing Lucas’s picture in an inset shot on the cover of Fortune with the title “Man on a Mission.” “That’s your client? Damn, Bails, he’s super smoking hot. You get to decorate his home?”

  Bailey clicked back to the previous article and stared at a younger Lucas. The image showed him leaving the courthouse in step with his father and a third man, Logan Marx’s attorney, it read. She then clicked another link that had Lucas’s name highlighted following the words HIV/AIDS Awareness Celebrity Fundraiser. It showed Lucas speaking to a reporter with his arm around the waist of a tall redhead. The article stated he was a big contributor to the HIV/AIDS Foundation, along with a host of other charities. All of his busin
ess achievements and philanthropic endeavors were nice to know, but Bailey was more interested in the redhead standing beside him. Like Sandra, she was your typical tall, slender, beautiful armpiece, exactly how Bailey pictured Lucas’s type to be.

  The Internet showed him with several different women, all having attributes similar to Sandra and the redhead. It had Bailey wondering why he was interested in her. She wasn’t unattractive, but she surely didn’t fit the mold Lucas apparently liked.

  “Hey, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

  Bailey’s head shot up to Faith with eyelids instantly narrowing to slits. She didn’t just say that! After everything with Andrew, the girl should know better.

  She closed the laptop, grabbed her salad from the refrigerator, and gathered her things to leave. It was either that or she’d slap Faith hard where she stood.

  “Really, Faith?” Sienna shook her head.

  “I was joking, Bails.” Faith trailed behind her. “I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known you were interested.”

  Fuming, Bailey spun to face her. “I never said I was interested! I’m working for the man!” she shouted. “This opportunity is very important to me. I don’t need to be concerned that you’ll somehow mess it up by trying to fuck him.” She was angrier over the fact that she felt territorial of Lucas than Faith’s stupid-ass comment, but she wasn’t about to tell her that.

  “Sorry, Bailey, I didn’t mean it. I swear.” Her arms stretched open for a hug. “We’re okay? Bails, it was stupid. I’m really sorry.”

  She stared at the peace offering. The girl always knew how to push her hot button.

  Sienna stepped in between them. “She didn’t mean anything by it. It was a joke. Given the history with you two, a bad one.” She shook her head at Faith again. “But no harm intended.”

  Bailey took a breath, letting the irritation wane, then nodded, and stepped into the embrace. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Well, now that that’s settled, we have to get to work. You know that hunk o’ junk of yours needs to warm up even in summer,” Sienna teased in her usual way to lighten the atmosphere on her way out the door.

  Bailey watched Faith bounce about the kitchen, tidying up. “The spare key is in the drawer to your left. Be sure to lock up.”

  “Will do.” Faith’s straight white teeth gleamed. “Hope your day goes well.”

  “Same to you.” Bailey headed out wondering if this was the calm before the Faith storm. And when the tide hit, would she need a life jacket?

  Chapter Nine

  “What do you mean they want to negotiate the offer?” Lucas shifted his eyes to his assistant standing beside him and bit out firmly, “Negotiation is not an option.” The elevator doors opened. He stalked down the hall to his office.

  “I reiterated your terms and your intent to not lay off Paxton-Caldwell Laboratories’ key researchers once the deal goes through.” Kara rushed ahead to open the door, his stride not missing a beat.

  Lucas sat down behind his desk and grabbed the two contracts sitting in his inbox, which she’d placed in it days ago, still waiting for second reviews.

  “Then what’s the problem?” he half barked.

  “Among other things, Mr. Caldwell said the terms don’t guarantee that he and his partner will remain following the transition of ownership. They want you to nearly double your offer if you want to hold the majority. Both partners have highlighted the changes they’re proposing.” She handed him the document across his desk. “I’ve sent you an electronic copy of it as usual.”

  Lucas knew why Caldwell questioned his motives. Among other issues, under his father’s tenure, MVC had developed a reputation for investing in companies that had great ideas, and some had patented technology, but lacked adequate funding to produce. Logan Marx would set the terms with him, taking majority ownership, and once the company prospered, he would sell high without any negotiation of job security for the staff and top managers.

  Lucas had worked hard at erasing MVC’s negative image. Now that he was running the company, he ensured fair terms in all his acquisitions. Nevertheless, some companies tried to gouge him, using MVC’s past transgressions as leverage, knowing he would want to keep the company image favorable in the public eye.

  Thumbing through the yellow tabbed pages, he stood and turned toward the windows. This cat-and-mouse game was nothing new. It didn’t normally get under his skin. It was that damn green-eyed vixen dancing around in his head that had him riled. He’d lost sleep thinking about their kiss and the warm feel of her silky soft lips, the taste of her tongue. Her breasts would be a handful ... and mouthful for that matter. He could capture her tiny waist in one hand. And he’d love to run his hands up and down those smooth, toned legs of hers. Picturing her firm, plump ass, he bit back a groan.

  Last night, beating off to that mental image he had of her bent over that desk was the only way he could clear his head to fall asleep.

  What is Kevin really to her?

  When Bailey had mentioned that she had plans to see her ex-boyfriend/friend, Kevin, Lucas made a point to keep her at his home for as long as he could. He didn’t give two shits about the color of that damn garage. He’d asked her mundane question after question about the interior design specs, anything that would detain her long enough that she would be too worn out to visit and perhaps end up in bed with Kevin. Her fighting not to yawn in front of him was the only reason he’d let up.

  She likely went to Kevin last night anyway. Not wishing to go there in his head, he looked out over the cityscape to the Washington Monument off in the distance, thinking over his next move regarding the woman. Like Paxton-Caldwell Laboratories, and so many other acquisitions before it where he’d come out the victor, Bailey Walters would be no different.

  “I want you to get me info on a Sienna Keller. Start with Nuagé Café and Lounge where she waitresses.” Lucas knew what he had to do.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He turned around and met Kara’s quizzical stare. “I want to know where she is at this precise moment. Find as much info on her as you can. Try LinkedIn, Facebook, whatever you can.”

  “Understood. What about the Paxton-Caldwell proposal?”

  Lucas frowned. “I’m doing them a favor as it is with the amount I’m shelling out on the damn company. If it weren’t for the guarantee of tripling my investment, I’d just as soon pull my funding, and then all their asses would be looking for a job. You make it clear to Caldwell that I’m his company’s only chance for survival. Either they agree to the terms or I walk. And where the hell is my general manager? Gavin’s plane was due in last night. These proposals are piling up. Have him—”

  “Good morning to you, too.” Gavin ambled into the office still wearing his blackout sunglasses. “Damn, man, I could hear you howling through the walls.” He ambled over to the bar, poured a glass of water, and spread out his long frame comfortably on the leather couch. “I took an earlier flight last night and went downtown. My brain is still in stasis, so if you don’t mind.” Lowering his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, he gave Kara a glance. “Miss Kennedy, you’re looking beautiful as ever.”

  Lucas looked between them. Kara’s earth-brown hair was pulled into its usual neat bun atop her head. Not a hair was out of place as her russet-brown eyes homed in on her work.

  “Good morning, Mr. Crane,” she said without looking up from her iPad.

  Gavin tipped his water glass to her, and then set his sunglasses on the side table. “Who knew, D.C. has some pretty good hang spots.”

  Lucas shot him a narrowed glare. They’d been best friends since the age of six. Even back then, if there was mischief to be had, Gavin would be at the center of it. His Irish roots were forever front and center whenever he saw an opportunity for a good time.

  “You’re not in the city a minute and you find a bar?”

  The man shrugged as he insouciantly sipped his water. “I would’ve phoned to see if you wanted to join me, but
I met this smoking hot Brazilian on the flight. She was in town for some sort of photo shoot and wanted to blow off some steam beforehand.” Grinning, he blew out a breath and shook his head. “Man, she was ...” He gave a glimpse at Kara, who was frowning back at him.

  “Give us a minute,” Lucas told her.

  Kara stood up. “Here’s the list of companies and the artists participating in the event on Friday. I’ve checked off the few who are still unsponsored and will pick from the list on your behalf later today.” She set the paper on his desk and left the room.

  When the door closed, Lucas said, “You should’ve been reviewing these instead of out scouting pussy.” He rounded his desk, went over, and tossed the two thick proposals onto Gavin’s stomach.

  “Hey!” Gavin jumped up, spilling his water on his suit coat. He placed the glass on the coffee table in front of him and brushed at the water splotches on his tie. “Damn, Lucas, was that really necessary? Maybe I should’ve called you last night. Haven’t fed the snake lately, brother?” he teased.

  “Fuck you.” Bailey’s tantalizing body bent over the desk and her spread out on his closet floor: the images danced around on a reel in Lucas’s head.

  Gavin chuckled. “I’ll pass on the offer. I only do females.”

  Lucas’s glare narrowed more as he took a seat in the leather armchair. “Gavin, I want updates.”

  “As for these,” Gavin picked up the documents and fanned the pages, “I reviewed the copies Kara sent over, and I’ve sent back your counter offer to each company. The Cali office is effectively functioning smoothly. The management team I’ve set in place is well suited to keep things running efficiently. As we discussed, I will bounce between here and California every other month or so to check in. Now, about getting your dick wet. The woman I met last night has a friend. She—” There was a knock at the door and both looked over as Kara stepped inside.