Made for Me (Danielle Grant Book 1)

by Sarah Gerdes

  “So are you in love?”

  Danielle laughed. “The only surprise about the question is that it took you so long to ask it.”

  “Are you going to answer or shall I assume the best?”

  If she had a list for the ideal man, Andre possessed everything she’d put on it. Intelligent with a good career, athletic and a risk-taker. And like her, they both loved music and going out. “What I do know is that I’m incredibly happy and content. I’d rather be with him than anyone else—no offense to you and Stephen.”

  Lani gave a hearty laugh. “None taken. You’ve now been here two and a half months and with him the entire time. That’s a record for you, girlfriend.”

  It was, thought Danielle.

  The jazz bar was crowded but Benny had reserved a table for them at the front of the club. The Moroccan-born pianist and singer knew of Andre’s friend and had developed a soft spot for Danielle the first night he heard her hum. He’d been trying to get her to sing with him for weeks, and tonight, she was finally ready. She’d been cajoled to sit next to him on the bench as Andre watched, his face expressing an emotion that increased her gratitude for the dimly-lit jazz den.

  “I’m thinking Crazy,” Benny said under his breath. Danielle cleared her throat, wondering how her voice would sound after months of dormancy.

  “Lani told me you sang in college,” he remarked as he played the refrain, the signal for the room to be quiet.

  “Music was my major, along with finance.”

  Benny shook his head. “More money in finance,” he said, his voice low and appreciative.

  “Maybe, but a lot more love and passion in music.”

  Benny began and she followed, her voice clear and emotive, her breath control sustaining the low notes to the high. She glanced over at the one man in the room the message was meant for. She was crazy for him all right.

  Sunday night, she called her father before she turned out the lights and gave him one message: If Zurich was heaven, she was among the angels.

  The following Friday, Lars knocked on her office door.

  “What happened to you?” Danielle asked, noting the patch over his right eyebrow and another on his left hand. “You get in a fight?”

  “Rock climbing in the Italian Alps,” he informed her.

  “Isn’t that a bit out of your risk profile as the managing director?” She noted his pale green suit with slim cut legs. A good color, she thought, and a deep blue tie. She’d wondered before now why it was that he favored blue ties, indigo, azure, sapphire, and always with some print, texture or callout.

  His smile grew. “I’m usually a bit more adept at assessing the situation, loose rocks notwithstanding. But,” he said, his tone of voice changing, “the reason I’m interrupting you is because I have something for you. Season tickets to the opera.”

  “What for?”

  “Ulrich and I believe you have earned it.”

  She glanced down. “That’s awesome.” She wondered how they knew she liked music, wondering if this was a good guess on their part. When she looked up, she caught an amused expression on his face.

  Lars’ face was all-knowing, like the wizard of Oz. “We had something called your college transcripts and made certain assumptions.”

  “Oh, right.” It would have identified her double major.

  “The back pass is for the first ballet of the year, Anna Karenina. Also, I notice you haven’t rsvp’d to the first company event in a few weeks.”

  Danielle shook her head. “Sorry about that. I completely forgot. We didn’t have a lot of company events in the States outside of the annual Christmas party. I’m not obligated to bring a guest to these things am I?” The date was a Friday night and Andre would more than likely be unavailable.

  Lars gave her a strictly professional look. “It’s considered good form to do so.”

  “Well, no guarantees.”

  “You might find someone around here willing to go with you.”

  Don’t drop your eyes to his lips, she coached herself. Ignore the intonation in his voice that was completely at odds with his expression, one that told her at least one man in the office would accompany her.

  “If given a choice, would you rather not have me attend if I have to come alone?”

  Lars’ lips pressed forward in thought and she couldn’t help herself from looking at his mouth. He did say she could date people in the company, but she had no desire. Well, not enough desire to stop dating Andre.

  Oh man. I just used the word dating. I’m dating Andre. I’m in a relationship with Andre.

  “Are you okay?” Lars asked. “I’m not purposefully trying to overstep my bounds,” he said, his objective, professional voice returning. “I am doing my job in trying to encourage you to have an existence outside these four walls, which, according to your numbers, I’m not sure is happening.”

  “It’s all for the best. You don’t want me to be distracted, remember?”

  His eyes betrayed no humor, only strength. “Some distractions are actually beneficial.”

  It took a few minutes for Danielle’s pulse to slow down after Lars left. She put her headset back on and opened the company invite. Sure enough, an outdoor client-company boating excursion was scheduled. Also noted on the schedule was a trip to St. Moritz and three weeks off in August for vacation.

  She turned the music up, trying to get the visual of Lars out of her mind. For all that she felt for Andre, their shared interests in biking and music and their physical compatibility and desire, she was still drawn to the managing director. She was sure it was her imagination, but every now and then, she wondered if he felt the same towards her.

  CHAPTER 19

  Nearly four weeks later, Danielle kept looking at the clock. Andre had asked her to help remove his new downtown apartment. She’d readily agreed, the anticipation of having pizza and a sleepover at his house a thrilling concept. He’d driven her by it once, slowing down to point out the massive stone and marble structure. It resembled the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, its u-shape entrance and portico staffed with black-suited doormen and security. As he turned in the entrance, the marble floor of the lobby glistened, and the gleaming steel and glass elevators looked brand new.

  The thought of an evening with Andre was still in her head when the phone rang. “Georgy’s arrived,” Glenda informed her.

  Danielle applied a fresh layer of lipstick and for good measure, a small dab of perfume on her wrist and neck, grateful the weekly update session would take up the final hour in the day. With the latest print-out in hand, she walked towards the conference room. The internal blinds of the long conference room were drawn, a sure sign of a confidential presentation had occurred prior to her meeting.

  When she entered, Georgy stood, blocking her view of the man next to him who was leaning away, looking for something in his briefcase.

  “Georgy, so nice to see you,” she said sincerely. She’d come to view him more as a gruff, giant of a man who she suspected had a big heart but was used to dealing with a lot of assholes who only wanted his money. Georgy greeted her the same way he had the last two months; a handshake, a hug and a kiss on both cheeks. Almost five hundred million in profits meant that she was a part of his inner circle now, and she relished the status.

  “Danielle, I want to introduce you to my son, Andre.” Andre blinked and his mouth curled into a smile of satisfaction. Danielle automatically shook his hand. “I’ve asked him to help manage the account,” Georgy continued, oblivious to Andre’s reaction. “Not that you need managing, but I want him to play a more active role in the business.”

  “Son?” she asked stupidly.

  Danielle watched as Georgy’s eyes took in her facial expression, his darkening look mirroring her own emotional state. “You know each other?”

  “I’ve known Danielle since day two of her arrival,” Andre continued, the smile on his face carrying over to his words. Danielle heard the words through a growing, insistent ringing in h
er ears like the sound of an approaching tornado. “She’s the one I’ve been telling you about,” he added.

  Georgy reassessed her, as though he was seeing her for the first time. It would have made her smile if she hadn’t been in such a state of shock. “The restaurant investor? The girlfriend?” Andre continued smiling, patting his father’s back good-naturedly, like he’d won the ultimate prize.

  Danielle was becoming lightheaded.

  “Excuse me,” she said abruptly, not waiting for a response as she turned and shut the conference room door. She asked them to sit down, facing them, her back to the glass wall. She said a silent prayer of thanks the blinds were down.

  “Danielle, what’s wrong?” Andre asked, his eyes searching hers. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure no one was going to walk into the room.

  As she gazed at Andre, it was like looking through broken glass; fractured pieces of a formerly beautiful image. “Just give me a minute,” she asked, breathing shallow. For a fleeting second, the thought occurred to her to address the situation with Georgy and Andre, then immediately come clean to Ulrich and Lars, taking an offensive approach to a complete, unanticipated and accidental dating situation. As the men waited for her to speak, she envisioned another scenario. One where she proactively ended her relationship with Andre, thereby never having to reveal the affair to her management. Both paths were options, but she couldn’t decide now. She needed more time to think.

  “I can’t explain, but it’s imperative that you not discuss with anyone that we have been out—dating.”

  Both men reacted differently. Georgy’s face still displayed a swollen pride that accompanies his son’s choice of company. A part of Danielle was immensely gratified Andre had told his father about her; it was as close to meeting the parents without it actually happening. Andre’s earlier elation and was rapidly moving from confusion to hurt.

  Danielle swallowed, the action forcing more air than saliva down her throat. She didn’t want to say the words, but she’d read, affirmed, sworn and signed pages of documents and had no other choice. This wasn’t just about this job, but about her ability to attain and keep any other job in her field, here or in the United States. News traveled, reputations made and bad decisions lingered.

  “Why can’t you say we know each other, or that we’re dating, as if it would be anyone’s business?” Andre asked quietly.

  “Because I’ll get fired.”

  The men across from her digested the information. “For dating my son?” Georgy asked, his voice rising.

  “No, not Andre. Anyone who is a client of the firm.” She touched her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after nearly three months full of wonderful, glorious, time together. Not after dancing and clubbing and days spent in his warm arms, and hours laughing in bed over her blunt comments and his modest, subtle manner.

  She glanced up at Andre’s face, wanting him so badly it hurt.

  “Then you change employers and as the manager on the account, I’ll transfer to the new firm,” Andre said.

  “Then I’ll get sued,” she replied, her words almost inaudible. She took a breath and told them of the pages of documentation she signed and an abbreviated version of Lars’ warning on her first day. “Had you not been here today, I never would have known…we could have gone on…” Her voice cracked and she concentrated on breathing. Lars or Ulrich might walk through the door any moment and she had to be functioning normally.

  “It never occurred to me that the new trader Dad referred to was you,” Andre said flatly. “You even told me you worked at MRD, but I didn’t put it together. I’m sorry, I just didn’t think…”

  Danielle didn’t even attempt a smile. “Don’t apologize. Neither of us knew.”

  Georgy had remained quiet, assessing her and then his son. “Lars is shrewd,” he said with grudging respect. “I agree with him in principle. If a trader has a relationship with one client, the trader might favor that client over another. And Andre, so we’re clear, it is because of Danielle, and Danielle alone, that we are up hundreds of millions of dollars. No one else even comes close to those numbers across any investment categories. This week another ninety-four, just in gold. What’s the currency?”

  Danielle didn’t bother to look down. “Seventy-six million francs.”

  Georgy grimaced. “I don’t want her attention going to someone else.”

  A burst of air erupted from Danielle, along with an uncomfortable laugh. “He gets all my attention,” she said, looking directly at Andre. In that moment, she acknowledged all that he’d become in her life.

  Andre’s grim lines went soft at her comment. “Thanks for all the money you’ve made us but…are you serious? You can’t see me anymore?”

  “No dating clients,” she said, feeling as though her heart was going to rip in two. She closed her eyes in an effort to stop the heartache from worsening.

  “You’re in love,” Georgy said, and Danielle quickly opened her eyes.

  “Yes, I am.” Danielle looked at Andre. He’d spoken before she had a chance to. The words were said firmly, matching the determination on his face. A slow smile tugged at her lips as she gazed at her handsome boyfriend—a word she’d refused to say before but now seemed so obvious.

  Georgy was still evaluating herself when the door opened behind her, preventing further discussion. Georgy’s facial expression changed instantly, to one of interest. “Lars,” greeted Georgy. “You might remember Andre, my son.”

  Andre’s intense look of emotion lasted a split second before he broke eye contact and stood to greet Lars. “Yes, from St. Moritz,” Lars said, shaking his hand and taking his customary position at the end of the table. “Georgy, you said you wanted to bring Andre in on the account?” Lars looked at Danielle, waiting for her to comment. When she didn’t, he tilted his head, then turned back to Georgy to allow him to take over the discussion.

  Georgy told Lars Andre would be responsible for working with Danielle. The family would be making another deposit of three hundred million, all under her management.

  “It will post this evening,” Georgy stated, looking at his watch. Lars looked pleased, but in his typical managing director-type of way. What was another couple hundred million when the client already had almost two billion on deposit?

  “Almost all of it under Danielle,” Georgy reminded Lars. She gave Georgy a small, smile of gratitude, and he caught it. Georgy was reinforcing his family’s investment in the company and the associated entities which had billions more.

  As he spoke, Danielle forced herself to stare at Georgy, periodically looking at Andre as she would any new client. She felt Lars’ eyes on hers, the inquisitive gaze she’d become so familiar with now accompanied by a new and uncomfortable intensity.

  She didn’t dare look at her managing director unless she was sure his attention was on Georgy. When the discussion ended, Georgy put his hands on the table. “Now, I know Danielle is always watching the clock during trading hours, so we can end this meeting. I just want to reiterate how pleased my family and the organization is with the returns.” Georgy gave her a goodbye handshake then turned to Andre. “I’ll let you take it from here.”

  “Sure thing,” Andre said, putting his hand out to Danielle. “See you next week.”

  Danielle was the first to leave, heading straight to the bathroom. She sat on the toilette, holding her stomach to quell the ache of her loss.

  I will not cry until I get home. She didn’t want to be tortured with the knowledge of what she’d never experience again—or at least until she was unemployed. When she emerged, she walked quickly to her office, grabbed her things and made it to the elevator without seeing a soul.

  “Hello Danielle.”

  Her gaze at been at the floor. Johanne was there, his smile neutral, his long, center-parted, wavy hair and square glasses all that was modern and hip.

  “Hi Johanne,” she said as pleasantly as she could. She felt cold a
nd stiff, just like how her voice sounded. The elevator quietly descended, her low blood sugar and the horrible turn of events causing her to sway. Johanne cupped her elbow firmly, steadying her.

  “You okay?”

  She righted herself and smiled faintly. “Yes, thanks. I could do without crashing into the glass mirror.”

  Johanne laughed easily. “You can take some time and have a life, you know.”

  Danielle smiled, repeating her same line about old habits being hard to break. Johanne shrugged, adjusting his glasses, looking down at her legs in an objective way.

  “Well, just so you know, there’s no competition from me. I don’t really need the stress of another billion. I just hope we can keep you a year.”

  “I’m hoping it will be longer than that,” she said. “I’m enjoying it here.” Or I was, right up until fifteen minutes ago.

  He gave her a genuine smile of encouragement. “I’m glad. Women just don’t seem to last.”

  The doors opened and Johanne told her to have a great weekend then strode in the other direction, phone already to his ear. She made it to the metro, found a seat and closed her eyes, not opening them again until the train announced her stop.

  CHAPTER 20

  When she walked up the path to her apartment, Andre was already there, pacing. He searched her face, focusing on her eyes. Danielle was sure he noticed they were red. Without a word, he followed her into the elevator, and they stood apart, silent, the energy between them growing.

  He waited behind her as she unlocked her front door, the shaking of her hand increasing with each click. She had barely closed the door when he drew her against him. Danielle involuntarily exhaled when his arms tightened around her, leaving only her toes resting on the floor. He smothered her face, cheekbones and eyes with kisses, his mouth moving down her neckline, his warm breath coating her skin.

  “Andre,” she breathed. “I love you, too.”

  They fell against the wall, his hips against hers.