Conflict (The Wellingtons Book 3)

by Tessa Teevan

  Me: The competition is going down! You’re the best, by the way, for defying the boss to give me the good news. Drinks so you can fill me in as soon as we get home!

  Knowing Bryan usually has his phone attached to his hand, I’m not surprised when he replies immediately.

  Bryan: You got it. Now have fun and pretend I never said a word.

  I’m on cloud freaking nine hundred as I leave my condo and head down for another day of lounging on the beach. I’m hoping to run into Shane, giddy to share my news. At the same time, I don’t want to distract him, but a quick squealing session never hurt anyone, right?

  I try to be cool and walk across the lobby, slyly darting my gaze around the hotel to catch a sneak peek of him. I wouldn’t mind lounging by the pool and watching him work. With as good as he looked in the dark, I can’t imagine the sight of those muscles rippling in the warm sunshine. The image in my mind makes my mouth water.

  And then there he is. I stop at the sight of him standing just outside the front doors. But something’s off. Shane the pool boy last night looks nothing like the Shane I see now. If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve gotten to know the man intimately, I’d think it was some long-lost twin. But nope, my thighs squirm on sight, my vagina practically pulsating just from seeing his luscious backside.

  When he turns, I’m momentarily stunned. He’s wearing a dark suit with a gorgeous lime-green tie. The color highlights his tan and the blond of his hair, and a pair of expensive sunglasses covers his eyes. But I wonder why in the hell a pool boy would be dressed like this. And when I find the courage to walk towards him, a young woman dressed in a neat pencil skirt and a beige flowy top is nodding at him and writing on a notepad.

  “Yes, sir. Right away, Mr. Wellington. We’ll get everything set for you. I’m so sorry for your wait. Mr. Burns came in late last night and he always requests the Blue Orchid room to conduct his international business calls. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “It’s fine, Angela,” he tells the girl with a gruff tone. “I can work just as easily in my suite as I can in the Blue Orchid room. That’s not why I’m leaving.”

  Leaving?

  Before I can put thought to the words, Angela nods and then turns quickly, squeaking in surprise at my presence.

  “Oh, goodness. My apologies, ma’am.” She turns back to Shane. “Sir, I’ll get the Filiatrault file immediately.”

  The exchange causes Shane to face me. His mouth drops open, hanging wide, which makes him look stupid and entirely too punchable.

  He whips his glasses off, blue eyes meeting mine in earnest. But I’m not falling for it. Nope. I may have been hooked, but I’m reeling myself back in. I don’t actually know if I’m angrier he was going to leave so early, so abruptly, or if the shock of seeing the Filiatrault file in his hands just after learning I’ve been added to the team at Wellsley-Callahan. Okay, so Bryan said most likely, but I believe in positive thinking. It’s as good as my account.

  I raise an eyebrow and gesture towards his getup. “Interesting pool boy attire, Mr. Wellington.”

  He swallows, and I hate how attractive it is when his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. It’s so freaking masculine, that protrusion in a man’s neck, and even though I have no idea what Shane’s playing at, the sight of it makes me want to lick him.

  Sarah, the one who imparted all that penis wisdom in high school, was right all those years ago.

  Sex makes girls stupid.

  “Alyssa,” he starts, taking a step forward, but I hold my hand up and he stops immediately.

  I kind of hate the turmoil that’s tolling inside me at the sight of what I’d initially—and apparently correctly—assessed him to be. Bigwig professional, not errant pool boy. It’s humiliating, and I’m not even entirely sure why. All I know is as far as irrational women go, I’m currently taking the cake. I want him to chase. I want him to invade my space. Yet I don’t want him close at all.

  “Who are you? Is your name even Shane?” I ask, taking another step away from him.

  Good God, did I sleep with a man whose name I didn’t even know? Sure, I was bit hasty, jumping into bed with the man, but I thought I at least knew his name.

  My first instincts were correct. I knew, just from seeing him in the hot tub, that he didn’t fit the pool-boy role. That he came from money. I could not care less about that. Money doesn’t matter to me. It never has. What does matter is that he lied and I don’t understand why.

  “Alyssa, do you honestly think I’d let you call out some other guy’s name while I was fucking you two nights ago?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest.

  I throw my hands up into the air. “I don’t know! I don’t know what to even think.” I narrow my eyes. “So, you are Shane?”

  “Yes. I should’ve told you this the other night. It’s just… One thing led to another and then they moved so quickly. It’s not like I asked for your last name, either. You could be a Wellsley for all I know.”

  My chest tightens. “A Wellsley?” I ask, unsure if I actually want him to clarify.

  He sighs. “It’s a long story.”

  It’s my turn to fold my arms across my chest.

  “Fine. Long story short, Archibald Wellsley is my father’s nemesis from his fraternity days, and they’ve been business rivals ever since. If I came home with a Wellsley girl, Pop would probably blow a gasket.”

  I wonder if that extends to girls who work for Wellsley. Sure, I’m actually operating under the Callahan umbrella of the company, but decades-long rivalries can get messy.

  “None of that matters, Alyssa. I’m Shane. Shane Wellington, and I’m the same guy I was yesterday. The same guy you took to bed and woke up with the past two mornings. The same man who took your innocence and drove you to orgasm more than once.”

  My cheeks flush with heat at the memory, and a cocky grin spreads over Shane’s face. My glare, however, has it quickly dissipating.

  “I’m also the owner of this resort and CFO of Wellington Enterprises in the Atlanta division,” he continues. “This is the first property that’s truly mine and doesn’t belong to Wellington or anyone in my family. I’m here to see how it’s running. That doesn’t just mean by crunching numbers. I want experience in every department in this place, including the pool. You just happened to catch me on the day I decided to learn those ropes.”

  “Atlanta?” I ask, disbelieving.

  My heart flutters at the idea that he lives in the same city I do. That this could continue after the week’s end. But I shake the thought out of my head. That doesn’t matter now. None of it does. I’m feeling foolish, stupid, and before he can discover that I work for his father’s nemesis, as he called him, I may as well end it now before my heart gets any more tangled up in this man who nearly brought me to my knees in just two days.

  He takes a step forward. “Yes, sunshine. Atlanta. I don’t know about you, but this with you is the start of something—”

  “You lied to me,” I spit out, shocked at the angry tears welling in my eyes.

  It’s so stupid. Irrational. Way off base. I’ve known the man for less than forty-eight hours. Tears should definitely not be shed in this situation. Yet here they are.

  “I agree that I could’ve been more forthcoming, but when I told you I worked here, I wasn’t lying. I do. I just have a few more zeroes in my bank account that I didn’t mention. Does that matter?”

  The question is both enraging and insulting. “No!” I protest. “Of course not. I don’t care what your position is or how much money you have. Like I informed you last night, I’m an independent woman, not a gold digger.” I close the distance between us and poke him in the chest. “You brought it up. You pretended to be someone you weren’t. And then…then I slept with you!”

  He grabs my wrist and draws me closer to his chest. My heart hammers when I look up and see his jaw set tight, his nostrils flared, and his dark-blue eyes hot on mine.

  “I may have misled you, but you wer
e in that bed with me. You felt our connection. You know how good it was. How good it can still be. I was wrong, and I apologize. I swear I didn’t mean any harm, and I would’ve told you today the truth today. That’s what my note was about. God, Alyssa, these past two days have been two of the best of my life. Please, if you don’t believe in me, at least believe in that. You gave me something precious. I’ll never forget that.”

  Gazing up at him, I want to believe his words. Part of me knows he’s right. Our connection was so intense and immediate that it took me off guard. After just a few short hours, I was already wondering how I was going to leave this man at the end of the week. And, now, it turns out I don’t have to.

  But I can’t stop thinking about how he lied. From the very beginning. What kind of foundation for a relationship is that?

  Then again, what kind of foundation for a relationship is banging a guy I’ve known for an hour?

  I realize that I can’t be a hypocrite. He has to understand why this is such a big deal, and even though I never lied, I also never supplied details about my job. “Shane, it’s not just that you inadvertently misled me. If it was just that… I could… it’d be fine.” He steps forward but stops when I give a slight shake of my head. My eyes lift to meet his, and I hate the hope I see. “I’m an accountant at a huge conglomerate in Atlanta, a firm whose probably only second to Wellington Enterprises. Right before I came down here, I heard from my boss that I might be added to the support team for the Filiatrault account.”

  His eyes widen, his lips forming a silent “oh.”

  “So you see why this won’t work. It’s my first big break with the company, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize my position on the team. This was fun, Shane, it really was. But it’s just too much of a conflict. Especially since I’m what you so affectionately called a Wellsley girl.”

  Before he can respond, a sleek sedan pulls up to the curb. A neatly dressed man exits the driver’s side, rounds the car, and holds the rear passenger’s door open. “Sir,” he greets, nodding to Shane.

  “A moment.” Then he turns back to me and takes a deep breath. My heart constricts as he steps closer to me and takes my hands in his. “Forget everything I said about Wellsley. It doesn’t matter. It’s two old men bickering. And as for the Filiatrault account, that does throw a wrench in things, but we can work past that.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, my nose burning with a sting of tears. When I reopen them, his eyes implore me. “That’s easy for the CFO to say,” I whisper.

  Shane’s fingers squeeze my own. “It’s easy for me to say because it’s true.” He pauses, looking from the driver to me. “I wouldn’t leave if I could help it. My cousin Branson needs me in Atlanta. He’s…not well, and there’s a long history, but I have to go. I can’t let him down.”

  Part of me is tugged at the heartstrings that he seems to have such strong familial loyalty. That part of me is an asshole because she’ll be the little devil on my shoulder reminding me of all the reasons Shane and I could be a good idea.

  Unfortunately for me, there’s no combatting angel to shoot her down. Yet.

  Shane leans in close, his lips brushing against mine in a final kiss. “I will be back. As soon as I can, Alyssa.” His eyes search mine, and when he frowns, I wonder what he sees. “Please. Be here when I get back. I’ll show you there’s no conflict.”

  When he pulls away, the scrutiny in his gaze causes me to squirm. I want to promise I’ll be here. I want to promise I’ll wait for him. I want to throw my arms around his neck and tell him I’ll just come to Atlanta with him so we can continue to explore whatever this is. I want to do so many things, yet I do nothing.

  With a heavy sigh, Shane ducks into the car, and as it pulls away, I’m left alone to stare after him.

  “Miss, is there anything I can help you with?”

  I turn toward Angela, who’s watching me, her face impassive, as if her boss hadn’t just kissed me. I hope the smile I plaster on isn’t as fake as it feels and nod.

  “As a matter of fact, there is.” I swallow, unable to stop the impulse of what I’m about to do. “Something’s come up. I’d like to discuss an early checkout.”

  It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. In reality, all he did was conceal a few significant details about his life, and it’s not like he owed me anything. I just…felt like our connection was now tainted by his omissions. He labeled me as a pretty princess from the very beginning, thinking I was a snob, and then made up some false identity. I feel like an idiot, and even worse, my pride has been damaged. I gave him something special and I didn’t know the simplest thing about him.

  I snort. It wasn’t that special if I was willing to give it up less than an hour after meeting him, but still. I set my shoulders and glance around my room, darting my gaze to the rumpled sheets that only remind me of what we did. I pull my suitcase out and begin packing.

  When Shane returns, if he even will, I am going to be long gone. Unfortunately, I have a feeling a slightly broken heart is coming along with for the ride.

  CFO of Wellington Enterprises.

  Filiatrault account.

  The single most important account Wellsley-Callahan is pursuing, and the one I’m hoping can jumpstart what I hope will be a long, fruitful career.

  If I didn’t think Shane Wellington and I had no future before, I sure as hell know we don’t now.

  Life’s a funny bitch. I’ve finally met the one man who, in two days, changed everything for me. And he’s the one man I can’t have.

  MY THUMBS drum along the steering wheel with increased anticipation the closer I get to Atlanta. Every hour—hell, every second—spent away from Alyssa heightens my anxiety. I left her with a kiss, a promise, and a hope that she’ll still be there when I return. From the hurt expression in her beautiful eyes, I’m not sure she’ll comply.

  I could’ve stayed at the resort, spent the rest of the week with her as planned. Still planned, once I get my cousin sorted. It’s just, when Branson needs me, I’m there. We are the closest in age of all the Wellingtons, and both us have probably been the most misunderstood. You could say we’re more like brothers, even though he has two. It’s a long story, but the fact remains: When he needs me, I don’t hesitate.

  With the click of a button, I command my car to repeat his voice message over my speakers, listening to it for about the fifteenth time and wondering what the hell he got into last night.

  “Shane. Brother,” he slurs, then chuckles. “Ha, brother. You might be my cousin, but you’re the closest thing I have to a brother since I fucked my brother’s girl.” Another pause. Then slurring continues. “Do you know I didn’t even know Knox was still with her? I didn’t even know what happened until I woke up the next day and there she was. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. Megan signed the divorce papers, thank fuck. Knox is in love with some banging chick who put me in a headlock. A HEADLOCK. Do you know how fuckin’ awesome that is? Don’t get me started on Cohen. Anyways. I’m calling because something happened last night and I dunno what or who or what… But oh my God, Shane. I met my future wife. She just doesn’t know. And I kinda don’t know who she is. I also might still kinda be a little drunk. Do you think the hotel will give me their footage so I can find her? I’m tellin’ you, man. This woman will save my life.”

  Branson’s rambling goes on so long that the voicemail finally cut him off. The last sentence gives me pause, and while I’ve never feared Branson hurting himself, I won’t rest easy until I see with my own two eyes that he’s okay.

  And once I do, my ass is back on the road, racing towards Alyssa, and hoping like hell she’s still there.

  If she’s not… I’m not worried. I’m a Wellington and I’m up for the chase.

  “Pick up the fucking phone, Branson,” I say, leaving him a fourth voicemail.

  It’s not like it matters. I know where Branson stays when he’s in town and I’m just pulling up now. Tossing my keys to the valet, I rush into the hotel lobby to
wards the reception desk in quick strides. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see a friendly, familiar face, though I can’t quite remember her name. We’ve been in this same situation though, and when—I look down at her name tag—Tabitha sees me, she gives me a sympathetic smile.

  “Mr. Wellington had to be carried to his room last night,” she informs me with a slight shake of her head. “That woman did a number on him, didn’t she?”

  I nod then start to walk away, taking two steps when her words set in. I turn back. “What do you mean, that woman?” I ask. If Megan’s involved, I’m ready to tear her a new one. She’s done enough to this family.

  “If I’m not workin’ the desk, I sometimes like to take shifts in the bar. Two nights ago was one of those nights, because there was a big event in the ballroom that took our regular bartenders, so I filled in. Mr. Wellington came in, declared he would rather drink his dinner, and proceeded to make quite good friends with Mr. Walker.”

  I sigh. “Which color?” I ask, because even though Bran has the money, I can only imagine the pretty penny he spent.

  She grins. “He asked for blue, but fortunately for his wallet, the party in the ballroom had already commandeered all of that color. He decided to settle for green.”

  I blow out a breath. “Well, that’s a bit of a relief. So, the woman?”