by AM Hartnett
‘Oh, fuck you, Reeve,’ she spat at him. ‘This has nothing to do with me. Can you imagine turning on the news one day and seeing a report about the lonely billionaire’s body found in his country mansion after he’d been dead for weeks? You were the one who said I might be the catalyst to get him out of there, but why do I have to be passive about it? Why can’t I light a fucking fire under him?’
The stinging forced water from her eyes, and Grace was shocked. After all this time and all this frustration, she’d not once cried, yet here it came in front of a man it would make no difference to.
She dropped her face into her hands and tried to keep the tears in: teeth gritted, eyelids squeezed shut, and shoulders knotted until she ached all over. She breathed heavily through her nose, as if she were a balloon trying to inflate itself after being pricked.
‘He showed me the tape,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘He showed me that horrible tape. Why not just throw me out? Why not just dismiss me?’
Reeve leaned back and took a deep breath. ‘You’re asking why he took the most drastic measure he possibly could to push you away? You do realise we’re talking about a man who sent me to fuck you when you broke it off with him the first time, right?’
‘Don’t be a smart-ass right now.’ She kept her chin on her chest and rubbed her hands together. ‘Have you seen it?’
‘When it was played in court.’
‘Ah, I’d forgotten that you were there … then. I guess that’s part of why he showed me. I wasn’t there so I could never understand.’
Reeve gave a snort, and when Grace lifted her gaze she found him smiling. ‘He’s very good, isn’t he? He always has been. All he had to do was drop a bomb on you and you make your own fallout. He doesn’t justify anything because he knows you’ll do it for him.’
Grace felt a stab between her shoulder blades, and then a curious numbness crept into her. She never could stomach the suggestion that she was weak, and that’s what Reeve’s criticism of Taureau was: she had somehow fallen for the callous boy Taureau had been before the attack, not the complex creature who had captivated her.
‘You didn’t do anything wrong,’ Reeve went on, more softly. ‘You don’t dwell on things like he does. You let things go and you don’t simmer. That intimidates him. I think –’ He paused, puckered his mouth and frowned, then leaned forward. ‘He had this reputation, but no matter how many people he had in bed there was only ever Bette, so I guess you could say that he’s inexperienced when it comes to women. On a scale of one to drama queen, you’re about a two, while she was off the chart altogether.’
‘I’m not asking for an analysis of the last few months,’ she replied bitterly and looked at the flash drive. ‘I’m asking for one thing, and that’s it.’
Reeve raised his hands in surrender. ‘I’ll take it to him, but don’t get your hopes up and don’t email me with another scheme if it doesn’t work. I’m off duty once I do this. I’m taking another job next month.’
‘Doing what?’
He gave her a filthy look. Her tone must have betrayed her thoughts: where else will you work where you get to fuck unsuspecting women for a living?
‘Politics,’ he said. ‘Apparently my reputation as an unscrupulous bastard has gotten out.’
‘Like how you exposed Dominic Taureau?’
‘Damn shame about that, don’t you think? All those women coming out of the woodwork all at once. Who would have thought?’
‘So you’ll be slinging mud behind the scenes in a more public arena?’
‘And getting paid damn well to do it.’ He drained his cup and stood. ‘On that note, I’ll give you a heads-up that there are changes coming to Taureau-Werner over the next few months, so be prepared.’
He held out his hand and Grace passed over the flash drive, which he pocketed. At the door, Reeve paused, then pushed past her to the bedroom. On his return, he met her startled expression with a grin and held up the copy of Burnout that hadn’t moved from its place on her night table since she first read it.
‘Promise that if this doesn’t do a damn thing, you’ll forget about him? Forget about this and everything that goes with it?’
‘Not possible, but I’ll manage.’ she said, and opened the door. ‘Do you think I’ll be sorry?’
He tapped the book against his chest and regarded her through narrowed eyes. ‘I don’t think you’ll be the one who’s sorry.’
Chapter Eighteen
The first snow of the year came as a surprise dusting of fat white flakes over the city streets at the end of October.
It was a small boost for Grace. Putting on those new winter boots, sliding the zipper from the heel to just below her knee, made her feel sexy. She’d been missing that feeling for the last few months, and, as she ran her hand along the taut leather that bound her calf, the dormant urge came back and turned her into a demon.
It’s been long enough, she decided as she stepped into the lobby of the Taureau-Werner building and shook the snow from her hair. Somewhere in this building was one lucky man who would be on the receiving end of three months of nothing more inspiring than her vibrator. She wouldn’t take him here – never again – but there was always the parking garage across the street. The guard who gave her a long look when she got on the elevator? The rumpled creature with the dark-rimmed glasses who shared the car with her between floors seven and ten?
He glanced back as he stepped off, and a delicious tremor went through her. She always did love those intellectual types, even if they did have a whiff of poseur.
A good hard fuck would do wonders to fill that remaining crack in her heart, but once the doors closed she felt a swelling in her chest. It was all so meaningless now. She could have a man between her legs and he could make her scream, but would she have the strength to keep the tears trapped inside afterwards?
It was always the same now. She’d find herself loading the dishwasher and humming along to the music app on her phone, and then she’d be swollen and throbbing in a fever. She’d grab her vibe or just use her finger. She’d make it last as long as she could. She’d grind and buck, pant and moan. When she couldn’t stand it any longer she’d close her legs around her hand and the vibrator, but in the midst of the raging red haze came a memory that left her raw and sobbing in the aftermath. She’d cry until her pillow was soaked, and then she’d start her life all over again.
‘Christ, I can’t tell you how happy I am you made it on time today,’ Caroway said when she got to her desk. ‘Of all the fucking days for it to snow in this city.’
‘It’s snow, not acid,’ she remarked as she shrugged out of her coat. ‘What’s the fire today?’
He went perfectly still, like she’d suddenly shouted ‘red light’, and for a moment she wondered if he was having an anxiety attack or something. He placed both hands over his mouth and heaved, then threaded them through his thinning hair.
‘Can you keep a secret?’
She almost laughed out loud as she unzipped her boots and tucked her feet into her pumps. If he only knew.
‘From who?’
‘Everyone, for the next forty minutes.’ He leaned on both hands at the edge of her desk and his nostrils flared as he took three deep breaths through them. ‘You tell no one, you understand me? I know you won’t, but I need you to say it.’
‘Mr Caroway –’
‘Jacques Taureau is scheduled to arrive at ten o’clock.’
Grace turned to ice on the inside and caught fire on the outside, and yet she managed to smooth out her skirt like always, take her seat and say coolly. ‘That’s the last thing I expected to hear this morning. I should have stopped for a second cup of coffee on the way.’
He said something in reply, but she didn’t hear it as she booted up her computer. It was like a small city had sprung up in her brain and devolved into civil war.
How can this be?
As the weeks and then months passed since she sent Reeve off with the transcript of Led
ger’s meeting with Bette Laurin, she’d waited for something, anything to indicate that she’d done the right thing, but in the end she accepted that giving him the answer he had posed that day had nothing to do with her. She’d been in the bathtub when the feeling came upon her. She closed her eyes and slipped beneath the surface, and told herself that she’d never see him again.
Why here?
She tapped her keyboard to open her email and sat with her elbows on her desk and hands folded in front of her. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘Contact every department head and make sure they’re in that boardroom by nine fifty-five on the nose, then get those who are out of town on the conference phone. Don’t bother with setting up the room. I’ve been told this won’t take long.’
Within thirty minutes Grace made her calls and had her people on standby, just in time for a wave of nausea to rush through her. She held it at bay long enough to get to her desk and grab her toothbrush, then rushed into Caroway’s empty office and hurled herself at the toilet.
Once she was empty of her breakfast, she scrubbed her mouth out and wiped the smudged mascara from around her eyes. One deep breath in front of the mirror and she saw that impenetrable facade take over. She glanced at her watch and fought back a second urge to hurl herself at the mouth of the toilet.
‘This won’t take long,’ she assured herself.
She stepped into Caroway’s office, then back as Taureau’s enormous frame blocked her way.
He had a glass in his hand, and Grace dumbly stared at it when he held it out to her.
‘Here,’ he murmured. ‘It’s ginger ale.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t stand the taste.’
He persisted, thrusting the glass at her. ‘It’ll settle your stomach.’
Grace met his gaze, and her heart crawled into her throat. She marvelled at the steadiness of her hands as she took the glass from him, but as he looked away she started to tremble.
She took a gulp, disgusted with herself for losing her composure. He turned, back straight and gait stiff. His hand came up, and though his gesture was hidden from view she knew it automatically, fingers tracing the lines of his scars.
She wanted to tell him to keep his hands at his side or in his pockets when he spoke to this roomful of curious hyenas he was about to face. She wanted him to keep his gaze level and his voice steady when he spoke to them, to own them with every word and every look.
But when she opened her mouth, the only words she managed to get out were ‘Why are –’ before he cut her off.
‘I’ll be there in ten minutes, and then I’ll be leaving. I’ve sent you an email to be forwarded to the entire company on my behalf.’
The dismissal in his tone cut deep. Her eyes and nose prickled as she said, ‘Yes, Mr Taureau,’ and left him.
He hates me. I made a mistake and now he hates me.
She couldn’t get rid of the thought as she went into the conference room. Almost everyone had already assembled and was chatting, some on the phone. She stood near the head of the table in her own miserable world until Caroway entered.
He clapped his hands together as he strode towards the front. ‘All right, folks, take a seat. This won’t take long. The reason you’ve been brought here today is because we have a major announcement this morning. In one hour’s time, a press release will be going out to all major networks, and it’s the same old story: no one speaks to the media. All requests go to our PR department.’ He stood at Grace’s side and faced the room. ‘I’ll hand the floor over to Mr Taureau now.’
As all heads turned, Grace lowered her gaze. Even when he passed in front of her, she kept her eyes averted and fought to keep her chin held high.
‘I could have done this another way, but after almost fifteen years I thought I at least owed it to you all to tell you this to your faces,’ he said.
Grace glanced aside and saw the hand at his side curled into a fist, his thumb twitching against his index finger betraying the nervousness that wasn’t present in his tone.
‘It’s been longer for some of you,’ he went on. ‘Some have been here since my grandfather was at the helm. It’s always been a family business and I tried to run this company that way, even if my methods were a little unorthodox.’
He paused, and she looked around the room. Everyone looked awestruck. Most openly gawked at him like he had just materialised out of thin air. It must have been killing him to be under such scrutiny, and she longed to reach out and take his hand.
‘I won’t take up much more of your time. I know you all work very hard and I don’t want to make those long days any longer.’ His voice went husky at the end. He brought his fist to his mouth and coughed into it. He looked towards her but not at her. ‘Would you mind …’
‘Of course.’
She slipped away, quickly unscrewed a bottle of water from the credenza just behind him, then poured it into a glass. Even when their fingers touched as she passed it over and electricity shot up her arm, he didn’t afford her a single glance.
He drained the glass and set it on the table in front of him, then continued.
‘As of this moment, I’m stepping down as Chief Executive Officer of Taureau-Werner to pursue other interests. I’ll remain on as the majority shareholder, but operations are now entirely in the hands of Hugh Caroway. Once he leaves this room, he assumes the responsibility of acting CEO, and I anticipate that he’ll ultimately be appointed to the position on a permanent basis.’
A smattering of applause made its way around the table, though Grace wondered if anyone had actually heard a word that had come out of Taureau’s mouth. He raised his hand but caught himself and tucked it behind him.
‘Speaking of which, I’ll give Hugh the floor now. Thank you again, everyone, for all your hard work over the years.’
He stepped back and Caroway came forward. Though she watched her boss deliver his spiel, she gave Taureau her attention out of the corner of her eye. His taut pose deflated a little in relief and he tilted his head just slightly in her direction.
Her stomach flopping, she looked at him. At the same moment he looked at her. It lasted no longer than a second, but it was long enough for her to discern the slight scowl.
Reeve had been right. Taureau was sorry, but not to lose her. It was plain as day on his face.
He was sorry he had ever laid eyes on her.
* * *
Caroway closed his door behind him and tucked himself deeper into his coat. ‘Not tonight, Grace. Go home.’
‘I am,’ she said, and moved her screen enough to show him the bubble-popping game she was playing on the computer. ‘I’m just waiting for traffic to thin out a little so I can get a cab home. The snow’s started again.’
‘Can I give you a ride?’
‘No, go home. I’ll only be a few minutes longer.’
He pulled a stocking cap from inside his coat and regarded her as he stretched it over his balding head. ‘You’re going to stick with me during this transition, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Taureau isn’t spiriting you off for his new venture?’
An ache bloomed in her chest, and she was too damn tired to put all of herself into a smile, and so she just shook her head.
‘It didn’t work out,’ she said, and gave a cynical laugh. ‘I need a bit more structure and stability. I’m better off here, slaving for you.’
‘His loss,’ Caroway said, and gave the desk a little tap. ‘Don’t stay too late.’
‘Good night.’
Grace waited for the whir of the elevator before shutting down her game. Leaving her shoes next to her desk, she strode in her stockinged feet between the rows of cubicles to the break room in search of takeout menus. Greasy food chased with a couple of sleeping pills would go a long way to making this day a memory and getting her back on track with the life she’d had before meeting Jacques Taureau.
She pulled the butterfly clip from the stash of menus ke
pt in the utility drawer and held it between her teeth as she headed back, leafing through the wrinkled rosters of burgers and egg rolls and pizza. Midway to her desk, she veered into the boardroom to check out the strength of the storm through the big windows overlooking downtown.
Taureau was silhouetted against the panorama.
‘Jesus,’ she hissed as her eyes adjusted to the shape at the head of the conference table. ‘You’re like a movie monster that keeps popping up.’
The chair creaked as he got out of it and moved to the window. ‘I wasn’t waiting for you.’
‘I appreciate you pointing that out,’ she snapped, and picked up the clip from where it had landed. ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’
‘I don’t like hotel rooms, and I can’t fly out until this passes.’
‘What about your condo?’
‘There’s still people above and below you and on all sides.’ He leaned against the pane and looked to her. ‘Why are you here?’
‘I was just leaving,’ she told him, and a sickening rush went through her as she forced herself to stick to her words by turning to leave.
‘Why did you do what you did?’
Grace flinched at his sharp words, and that single show of weakness infuriated her. She spun around and glared at his silhouette.
‘Do what? There’s so much to choose from, according to you.’
‘Settle down,’ he murmured, and her temper gushed from deep within. She tossed the menus onto the credenza and slapped her hand over the light switch.
‘All right, so maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, going to Ledger, but I knew you wouldn’t and you’d hide behind that question as long as you could get away with it. And –’ she held on to her words until she was sure she wanted to say them ‘– and I did it for myself. I wanted to know the reason, not why you brought me into your lonely world to begin with, but why you pushed me out of it so easily.’
‘You think it was easy?’ He growled, squinting in the fluorescent lights above his head. ‘It wasn’t. I haven’t been the same since you left.’
