Abducted by the Mountain Man

by Ambrielle Kirk

  She finally turned to address him. “Who's to say you won’t up and leave after a year like you’ve done all those other companies and go somewhere else?”

  “Who’s to say I won’t?” Trent retorted, his eyes darkening in challenge and his lips coming together, silent and waiting for her response.

  She couldn’t give any. Her tongue wouldn’t move and her lips wouldn’t obey. The man had some kind of powerful edge on her. How? And why?

  “Every day in the business world, top level management changes constantly,” her dad spoke. “Many times this is for the good of the company. Times change for the better and so should techniques and strategies that aren’t working.” Her dad sat back in his chair. “I’m embarrassed that you challenge my decision and that you act out like this in front of my R.R. brothers. I have no sons. You won’t step up. The men you see in this room are the men who will take my place when I am gone, Zaira. I could be gone tomorrow. I could be gone in twenty years. Do you have anything else to say, young lady?”

  Zaira swallowed.

  “I trust Trent to do this job and he’s said he will and he’s already accepted.” Her dad picked up a pen and began writing on his pad. “What I need you to do is hand the reins over to him.”

  “Fine. I’ll gladly do it.”

  “But first…mentor him in the position and assist him as it is beneficial to the company. You will share your knowledge about this company before your assignment is over with Svelte. I looked at your contract with Thompson and Theago and you have about a month left. That should be adequate time to show Trent the business and financial model. If we need to extend the contract to get you paid correctly, we will.”

  “Dad, you’ve got to be kidding me?”

  Dad looked up from his pad. “I’m scheduled to be in Italy for an extended period of time. Do I need to cancel this business trip because you can’t act like a business professional?”

  “No, you don’t, but what about Marcus?”

  Marcus coughed on the other end.

  “We’ve already discussed this. Marcus volunteered, but I’ve handed my duties down to him while I’m away. He’ll have his hands full.”

  She shrugged. “Well, then…everything has been decided without me. Why did you need me in here today anyway?”

  “You failed to check your voicemail. I called you twice inviting you to attend our first meeting. There was no answer.” Her dad said, and then turned his attention back to the notepad.

  This time it was Trent who cleared his throat.

  “I had a long night,” she said, deciding to accept her defeat here today. “I apologize for the way I’ve acted here.”

  “Maybe you should get a good night’s sleep tonight,” her dad suggested. “Let’s call this meeting adjourned. Everyone take a break if you need it and I’ll see you in the morning before my flight leaves.”

  Before anyone could address her, she scurried out of the office without even looking back. Her fate had already been decided, but no matter how calm and nonchalant Trent appeared, she couldn’t even manage to look him in the eye.

  She’d acted like a complete fool twice in less than twelve hours in front of him. She didn’t bother checking out at the receptionist desk as she swiped a vacant elevator just as another person walked off of it.

  Grabbing her phone, she immediately used the speed dial feature. She tapped her heels waiting for her best friend, Tanya to pick up.

  “Hi Zaira!” Tanya was always cheerful these days.

  “Girl, you will not believe! Ugh!” Zaira squeezed the phone tightly in her palm.

  There was a pause. “I think I know what you’re talking about,” Tanya said softly on the other end.

  “What? You do?”

  “Doesn’t this have something to do with Trent and the CFO position? Because Marcus and I talked last night.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I wish I had known before I walked up in there like a dimwit.” Zaira ran her fingers through her hair. “And why didn’t you come to the party? We missed you.”

  “We got caught up at his house…and the next thing we knew pizza and a few movies sounded way better than getting smashed at an R.R. party especially with my classes the next day.”

  Zaira released an exaggerated sigh. “Are you free tonight, anyway?”

  “Yeah, girl. Let’s do dinner. We need to catch up.”

  “See you then.” Zaira stuffed her cell in her purse and exited the elevator as it reached the parking garage level.

  Chapter Three

  The lunch hour rolled around fast the very next day. Before Zaira knew it, she had spent the whole morning finalizing reports for one of the partners at her firm. She procrastinated about going to Svelte to discuss the state of the company with Trent, but it was either sooner or later.

  Dad had called her this morning before taking his flight out to Italy. And once again, he expressed his aggravation over the way she acted at the meeting. Not even her mother, who usually understood her, agreed with Zaira. Now it was time to face Trent, the man whom she both adored and hated.

  It only took about thirty minutes to get to Svelte’s headquarters from her midtown condo. Living in the city had its advantages and disadvantages. Being a hop, skip, and a jump away from several of the companies she did business with was an obvious plus.

  When she reached the office that now belonged to Trent Stone, there was no one inside. She walked in anyway, placing her briefcase on the edge of the desk.

  Zaira could tell that he’d been working here today because several objects were moved since the last time she’d sat in the big black comfy leather chair which faced a window that looked out over the bustling freeway. The desk was clear except for his laptop, monitor, and a desk phone. The daily calendar she referred to whenever she was there was already turned to the current date with hand scribbled notes written across it.

  She looked toward the door again thinking that he would barge in at any moment and find her standing over his desk. The lights had been turned down and she wondered if he had called it a day and gone home even though they’d agreed to meet here at this hour.

  Zaira walked behind the desk and pulled out the desk drawer. That bastard had even rearranged her pens and notepads to his liking. She bit the inside corner of her lip and pulled out his chair.

  That’s when she saw the sticky note on the corner of the monitor with her name on it.

  Zaira, it read. Meet me at Cafe Gusto.

  It was as if he’d known she’d not only come straight here looking for him, but also come close enough to his desk to see the personal note.

  Zaira could have caused more problems by declining and going back home, but she decided she’d take her Dad’s advice and exclude her personal views from the business union between he and Trent Stone.

  She made her way to the cafe and found no problems spotting Trent at a small table near the back corner. His attention was on the tablet in front of him. There was a water glass and an espresso mug on the table too. He must have heard her approach because he rose immediately just as she neared him.

  “Zaira.” He smiled and a dimple appeared on his right cheek. There was a light dusting of five o’ clock shadow along his jawline. His hair was trimmed short and pulled back away from his face. His six foot four frame towered over her as he pressed his palm against the middle of her back, helping her into her chair.

  “Hi Trent.”

  “Had a great day so far?” he asked, his dark eyes searching her face.

  “Time flew by actually, but no major hiccups just yet.” She fiddled with the menu, trying to think of numerous ways to explain her actions from yesterday. Who was she fooling? The memory of acting out yesterday was something she wanted to forget. “How was your first official day on the job?”

  “Not bad. The company and financials are in pretty good shape. I went over some of the reports and you’ve done an amazing job of keeping things in order.”

  She blushed. “The last CFO
kind of just up and left, so I tried.”

  “Zaira, I’m going to cut to the chase.” He scooted his chair close to hers and touched her forearm where it lay next the menu. His fingers felt like warm velvet against her skin. “We have some personal issues to solve before we talk business.”

  “What personal issue is there to solve?” she asked.

  He quirked one thick, dark eyebrow. “Why do you hate me so much now?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t really hate you.”

  “Then why are you giving me a difficult time?”

  She shrugged. “I was shocked at the news. My Dad interviewed dozens of candidates but he never mentioned you.”

  “That’s because he never interviewed me. We talked over dinner about a month ago and he offered me the position outright. I couldn’t accept it at the time.”

  “You were working as the controller at another company last I heard.”

  Trent nodded. “I resigned to take the role at Svelte. One thing I didn’t expect was your disagreement to me working for your father.”

  “I like looking out for my family.”

  “And that means…?”

  “You know very well what it means. Your reputation is well known.”

  “Your father has no problems with my reputation.”

  “He doesn’t know the half it,” she retorted.

  “We’re R.R. brothers. He knows me much better than you think.” He sat back in his chair, studying her intently. “Are you talking about my past business ventures?”

  “You mean your past as a professional gambler?”

  He chuckled. “You’ve given it a name. I like that. So I made my money as a gambler when I could do nothing else. Why does that scorn you?”

  “My dad can’t question what he doesn’t know about. You still gamble. You’re a womanizer. You’ve destroyed not one, but two marriages. Doesn’t that say something about your ethics and character?”

  Trent’s eyebrows slanted downward and his lips parted. Before he could reply, the waitress approached them.

  “Sir, I see your guest has arrived. Are you two ready to order now?”

  “Water and an espresso shot, please,” Zaira replied.

  “Anything else for you, sir?”

  “No, thanks.” Trent’s tone was dismissive.

  The waitress jotted something down on her pad and left them alone again.

  “You’ve been misinformed, Zaira.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve never cheated?”

  “I make legit money now.”

  “Do you find joy in dating married women?”

  Trent leaned forward. He was so close that she could smell his aftershave and breath in his husky-scented cologne. “Do you really want an answer to that question?”

  “Just answer the question,” she whispered back.

  “My answers are little more complicated than you think. A yes or no won’t suffice.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I have a few more hours before quitting time.” She glanced at her wristwatch, and then folded her arms across her chest. “Would you like to spend it talking about personal issues that cannot be resolved or about Svelte’s financial reports which can be resolved?”

  “I multi-task pretty well, but this arrangement would be a little one-sided if we continued this way, don’t you think?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s make deal.” He sat upright in his chair, throwing a challenging glance her way. “I will answer any question you want…any questions at all…”

  Zaira’s chest tightened and her head swirled with curiosity. He must have known that her interest was piqued by his character and impetuous ways. In the past, their level of bonding had never breached the intimate surface—even though she had wanted it to. They hung out with the same crew for the most part. She was the daughter of an R.R. leader. He was an influential R.R. member…

  Despite those ties, they kept their relationship friendly. Of course Trent Stone was hot, attractive beyond reasonable measures, and his body was an instant chick magnet, but so were hundreds of other men in this city. He succeeded at a lot of things and she’d never witnessed him breaking under pressure.

  She smiled sweetly. “Any questions…?”

  “Any.”

  “I guess you have conditions.”

  “I’m an open book. You ask, I answer. I give you an assignment, you do it.”

  “What?”

  The waitress chose that time to bring back her espresso and water. With a devilish grin, Trent sat back in his chair and watched her hold her response.

  “What do you mean?” she asked when the waitress was out of earshot.

  “For the next few weeks or for however long your dad has extended your contract, you will work at my discretion. Is that clear?”

  “Ugh, you—”

  “You made yourself clear in the meeting yesterday. I will demonstrate for you how a man without a degree can lead a successful accounting department. And I will solicit your help as needed.”

  Zaira’s temper was growing hotter by the second. “That’s not what my Dad hired me to do. I’ve been in that position for months—”

  “—and you declined your dad’s offer to take the job permanently,” he interjected.

  “I’m supposed to show you how it’s done,” she said, sternly.

  His smile had widened and he showed off his pearly white teeth. “Change of plans. You are to assist me as beneficial to the company. I will lead. You will assist.”

  She exhaled deeply. “What are you trying to prove, Trent?”

  “I’m only trying to sweeten the deal, Zaira. Agreeing to answer whatever questions you have about me makes this arrangement both fair and equal. So, do we have a deal or not?”

  Feeling a bit defeated at the moment, Zaira sat back in her chair and crossed her legs.

  Sometimes men thought they had the world in the palm of their hands and could control any woman to do their bidding. Men were quite simple, and that was a fact. They needed their egos stroked and a sense that they were always in charge. Trent was no different. He loved being in charge. She could see this in the way he sat with a quiet strength in his chair. She could detect this in the way most every woman around their table stole glances at him. Her dad would’ve never hired a weak link, even if he were the most loyal and accomplished R.R. brother around. Loyd Wright didn’t make foolish decisions; her dad saw something in Trent Stone. Something he obviously kept from her.

  Nonetheless, Trent had offered her something in return for her assistance. A chance to learn him both inside and out. What she saw now and in the past was the Trent on the surface. She longed to understand him and how a boy that grew up in a homeless shelter could rise to become a well-lived, successful man. There was no doubt a lesson to be learned about life…

  “Deal,” was her reply.

  Chapter Four

  “You’re twenty minutes late.”

  Those were the first words that came out of Trent’s mouth as Zaira opened the office door and sauntered inside the next day. The time had advanced well past four o’ clock and almost everyone was gone or preparing to go home.

  “You get bonus points for knowing how to tell time.” Zaira placed her suitcase on a table near the door, shrugged out of her cardigan, and hung it on the coat rack next to his jacket. “I was stuck in a traffic jam on the freeway. A tractor-trailer jack-knifed and then overturned. They were in the middle of clear out when I reached midtown. My apologies.”

  Trent was seated behind his desk with two piles of paperwork in front of him. There was a black fountain pen behind his ear and binder clips spread across his working surface. His thick mane of dark hair looked tousled as if he’d been excessively running his fingers through it during the day. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone and his tie was loosened around his neck revealing the gold chain she’d always known him to wear.

  Zaira could tell he’d shaved this morning. There
was no dusting of a five o’ clock shadow as there’d been the day before. Not that it would have been an issue if he hadn’t shaved. She’d seen what he looked like after going a few days without over grooming. He was drop dead gorgeous regardless and he didn’t even have to try to be.

  She looked up just in time to discover his gaze roaming over her. His grey eyes darkened as he assessed her. The dress code here was business dress so after working out of her home office most of the day wearing pajamas, she’d shred her rags for the whole nine yards. Black pencil skirt, a jade-colored silk blouse, and black plumps. The weather wasn’t cold enough for panty hose, but she never liked to wear them anyway so she’d gone without today.

  “No apologies needed.” His gaze sauntered away from hers. “Close the door so the janitor knows that we’re still working.”

  She pulled the door closed.

  He stood up and dragged a chair next to his behind the desk. “Have a seat.”

  “There’s a seat right here.” She motioned toward the chair on the opposite end of the desk.

  “I want you right next to me,” he said. “Then if I need you to show me something, you’re right there.”

  “Fine.” She sat down in the chair, crossing her legs.

  “Plus, I have an assignment for you,” he said.

  “You’re going to need a secretary,” she replied.

  “You’re right.” He turned and smiled. “But right now, I have you.”

  He slid a stack of mail toward her. “It seems that some of the mail wasn’t being delivered to us during the transition. The mail clerk found these in the back room. I need you to open each one and make two piles. Junk mail and mail that requires immediate attention.”

  Zaira scoffed, but caught herself before protesting. Remembering their bargain, she accepted the stack of envelopes. “What about the letters that require future attention?”

  “Make a third stack.”

  She picked up the envelope opener and got to work. “Do you realize how much Svelte is paying me to open your mail?”