by Kira Archer
“How’d you find out her real name?”
Cole held up his tablet. “Had HR send over her file.”
“Anything interesting in there?”
“Yes. Now go away.”
“Why? Do you have a hot date showing up?”
“I don’t have time to date.”
Brooks scoffed at that. “You need to start making the time. Maybe it would loosen you up a bit.”
Cole ignored that. He had no trouble getting a date when he needed one for whatever function he might need to attend. But he rarely let his associations get too involved. It worked great. He had the company of a beautiful woman when he wanted it and his life to himself the rest of the time. No fuss, no future.
He’d yet to meet a woman who inspired any hint of desire to change his MO. The sudden vision of big brown eyes blinking at him sprang up. And wouldn’t leave. He shook his head in irritation and did his best to shove Kiersten’s image to the back of his mind.
“Dating makes women clingy,” he said. “I don’t do clingy. I do work.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Brooks said, his voice thick with an implied eye roll. “What about that woman…Betsy or Becky or…”
“Rebecca.”
“Yes, her. You dated her for a while.”
Cole frowned, irritated at the reminder of his last girlfriend. She hadn’t worked out any more than the others had. “She objected to the prenup.”
Brooks raised an eyebrow. “There was talk of a prenup? I didn’t realize it had been that serious.”
“It wasn’t. But she started hinting around, so I showed her the prenup. That’s usually enough to get them to lay off the wedding nonsense.”
“Why? Prenups are fairly standard procedure for someone in your position.”
Cole sighed. “Because my prenup isn’t standard. We both agree to leave the union with what we had when we entered it and with what was individually made during.”
Brooks’s eyes widened. “In other words, they’d get nothing.”
“Correct.”
“No matter the reason for the breakup? Even if you cheat?”
“Correct.”
“And if you die?”
“Then our union would be very decisively over.”
“Well, obviously, but—”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
Brooks blew out a long breath. “Well, no wonder they don’t stick around.”
Cole frowned again. He knew his prenup was a bit unorthodox, but he had his reasons. He’d had it drawn up after he’d made his first hundred million…and had his heart broken by the first woman who’d been more interested in money than matrimony. It had taken several million to keep her from writing a tell-all book and selling it to the highest bidder. Now, his girlfriends signed non-disclosure agreements and anyone even hoping to be more than a girlfriend was going to get the prenup. So far, none had stuck around long enough to actually use it.
“I don’t see why it’s such an issue,” Cole said.
Brooks laughed. “Really?”
“The woman would be marrying me, not my money. She’d get to enjoy a certain lifestyle during the marriage, of course, but if the marriage ends, I don’t see why she should continue to enjoy what I worked hard to make, especially since the women I date typically make a better-than-average living on their own.”
“You’re never going to find someone who will agree to that.”
“Someone who loved me more than my money would.”
It was always the same. They all wanted to be Mrs. Harrington. Not because they loved him, but because, as his wife, they’d have better access to his fortune. A hefty settlement if it didn’t work out. Widow money if they could stick it out for the long haul. Bonus money if kids were ever a part of the picture.
Hence the prenup. He’d probably never follow through with it, not that he’d admit that to Brooks. But it didn’t matter, since so far no one had ever loved him enough to try it out. A document stating they got nothing was enough to make them all run.
“Well, good luck with that,” Brooks said.
He finished the last swallow of wine in his glass and wiped his mouth. “I don’t need luck. I just need to focus on work.”
Brooks shook his head and gave him that motherly look that made Cole cringe. He glared and Brooks laughed, holding his hands up in defeat.
“All right, all right. I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got a few late-night plans to get to anyway.”
Cole couldn’t hold back an indulgent smile. “What a shock.”
“You’re just jealous,” he said. He drained the last of his wine and stood to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cole watched him leave and then turned back to his files, doing his best to ignore the now familiar twinge of regret that poked at him. His life was what it was. He occasionally wished he had someone, but they all wanted one thing, and it wasn’t him. Sometimes he didn’t know why he bothered. But hell, even moguls got lonely.
He sighed, gathered his things and shoved a few hundreds into the restaurant’s billfold, and walked out into the night. Alone. He was better off that way. At least alone he couldn’t get hurt, used.
He grimaced and pulled out his phone. He might as well get some work done. He dialed Kiersten and asked her to meet him at the office. If she was surprised that he was calling her in to work at nine p.m., she didn’t say anything. Just agreed to meet him in his office. She was working out perfectly, so far.
He headed back toward his office with an extra spring in his step, reenergized and ready to work.
Chapter Three
Cole picked up his coffee cup to take a drink, but his lips met nothing but air.
He stared into the empty mug. Okay, the day had been long when he couldn’t remember drinking a single sip of coffee, let alone draining it dry. He put the cup down with a thump and turned back to the files in front of him with a scowl. The paperwork that wallpapered his life never seemed to go away.
Ten minutes later, he was reaching for his cup again, only this time he found it refilled. He hadn’t heard Kiersten come in, but then he rarely did when he was focused on work. Plus, the woman moved like a cat. She’d scared the hell out of him more times than he cared to admit in the six months since she’d been promoted. He was tempted to put a bell on her just so he’d know when she was about.
She removed a stack of files from his desk to return them to the filing cabinet in the corner of the office, and the gentle scent of her perfume floated over him. Something subtly floral that reminded him of the magnolia tree in his grandmother’s front yard. He’d always loved that scent. It was home to him. Kiersten had only recently started wearing it, and he wasn’t sure he approved of the new development. He needed to concentrate, not sniff the air like a schnauzer every time the woman walked by.
“New perfume?” he asked.
She looked up from the folders she was filing, her mahogany-colored eyes widening slightly. Yeah, so he didn’t often ask her personal questions. First time for everything.
“Lotion, actually. It was part of a bath set.”
“A gift?”
Her lips twitched, and she turned back to her filing. “Yes. From you. Last Christmas.”
“Ah. Of course.” Which meant she’d either purchased it for herself or one of the other assistants had. They took care of all the shopping for that kind of stuff for him.
Well, as long as she’d ended up with something she liked.
The phone rang, and she hurried back to her adjacent office to answer it. A moment later the intercom beeped.
“Your mother, sir.”
“Take a message,” he said. Blowing his mother off was going to bite him in the ass later, but he didn’t have time to deal with her at the moment. He needed to get back to work. It seemed like he’d been on an eternal carousel of contracts, conferences, mergers, and board meetings since he’d sold his first app back in college. The money had enabled him to start a development company,
which had quickly gone lucrative. It had been a ceaseless parade of projects ever since. Though, as far as problems go, steady, profitable work wasn’t so bad.
Kiersten came back in, carrying another stack of files. It would probably be easier and save a ton of trees to keep everything digital, but being on the computer 24/7 was killing his eyes. Paper didn’t bother him nearly as much.
He reached for his mug. One sip and he held the cup back out. Already cold. Again.
Kiersten took the cup without a word and marched back out. He returned to the paperwork in front of him, until she came back with his newly filled cup. This time, the sweetened liquid pleasantly burned down his throat, the bitterness hidden under two creams and four sugars.
“I don’t know why you bother giving him the coffee,” a male voice said.
Cole looked up to see Brooks waltz in and drop into a chair in front of his desk.
“You should just stick a straw in the sugar dispenser and call it good.”
“It’s not that sweet,” Cole said.
“Ah, don’t get too offended. Something about you should be sweet.”
A snort that quickly turned into a gentle cough came from Kiersten, and Cole raised his eyebrows. He’d never heard such a sound come from her before. Then again, he’d only been working face-to-face with her for half a year, and she’d been nothing but strictly professional. Not that that had made those months any less distracting. Oh, she was an amazing assistant. Anticipated his needs before he knew what they were himself half the time. She had a quick intellect and ran a tight ship. His office was a well-oiled machine that she kept running so smoothly he never had to worry about anything.
She was no-nonsense. Dressed almost exclusively in pencil skirts and buttoned shirts, her blond hair usually slicked back into a bun or ponytail. But the more prim and proper she behaved, the more Cole was tempted to break his anti office romance rule and rile her up just to see if she had any passion in her for anything other than spreadsheets and color-coded files. The woman was wound so tightly he was afraid that one of these days she’d come apart at the seams.
“Can I get anything for you, Mr. Larson?” she asked Brooks.
He shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m good for now.” He winked at Kiersten, and she smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. Cole frowned as she went back to her office.
“Quit flirting with my assistant,” Cole said.
“Why? Someone should. That woman is like a champagne bottle someone shook up.”
“And you will not be popping any corks.”
“You calling dibs?”
Cole’s frown deepened. “You are so juvenile.”
Brooks shrugged, completely unfazed by Cole’s bad mood. “Someone needs to be around here. You are more than uptight enough for the both of us.”
“Just because I prefer working to fucking every female that crosses my path doesn’t mean I’m uptight.”
Brooks slapped a hand to his chest in mock offense. “You make me sound like such a nympho.”
“You are a nympho. What are you doing here anyway? You’re”—Cole glanced at his watch—“an hour and a half early.”
“I’m starving. And since Kiersten has to practically force food down your throat, I know you haven’t eaten. I thought maybe we could grab something before the game tonight.”
Cole glanced at his watch again. He, Brooks, and two buddies they’d met through their various ventures had a regular poker game every Thursday night. Brooks claimed it helped them practice their poker faces for business meetings. Cole was fairly sure it was an excuse to drink his best scotch and legally take money from all his friends. If Brooks wasn’t a genuine card shark, he was damn close.
“I’ve got a few more files I need to go over first. I can have Kiersten order something up.”
Brooks groaned. “Come on, Cole. Get your ass out of the office for once.”
Cole sighed and pushed away from his desk. Brooks wasn’t going to leave him alone until he agreed to go. And he had a point. Cole hadn’t left the office all day. It would be nice to get out for a minute.
“Fine. Let me just…” Before he could call Kiersten in, she poked her head back in the door.
“I’m going to head out, Mr. Harrington. Is there anything else you need before I go?”
He’d given up on getting her to call him Cole after the first week. Stubborn woman. “Yes.” A slight tightening of her lips was the only indication she gave that he might have shattered her hopes for the night. He pointed to a stack of about fifteen thick file folders. “Take those home and have a quick look over them.”
She gathered them up, jaw clenched, and he found himself waiting to see if she’d argue. Refuse to do it. Yell at him for ruining her weekend even more than he already had. Stick her tongue out at him when she thought he wasn’t watching. Something.
Instead, she quickly flipped through them. “Certainly, sir. What are they?” she asked.
“Background information for a new project. I need you to tell me if anything in there is useful.”
“Are you looking for something specific?”
He sighed and sat back in his chair. “I don’t know what I’m looking for as I haven’t gone through them yet. That’s what you are here for.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice tight, but still controlled. He had no doubt she was seething, but she hid it well. “I’ll see if I can find anything useful.”
“Thank you, Crustin. That’ll be all.”
Kiersten’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, Cole thought the moment had finally come. He could practically see the ass-chewing trembling on her lips.
“Anytime, sir,” she said, her tone cool. Impressive restraint, he had to admit. Had their roles been reversed, he’d have definitely lost his temper by now.
He barely held in his exasperated sigh. Her expression warmed slightly when she bid Brooks good night, and Cole once again had to keep himself from complaining. Neither one of them had done anything remotely inappropriate. It was none of his business even if they had, except for the inconvenience it would be to him.
As soon as she’d left, Brooks turned to him. “Crustin? Really?”
Cole shrugged. “I’m running out of things to call her. It never occurred to me she’d let me go on calling her the wrong name this long. I’ve had to start getting creative.”
Brooks chuckled and shook his head. “I’m surprised she hasn’t dumped your coffee on your head or something else equally painful that you totally deserve.”
“I think she’s come close a time or two. I’d prefer it to the ice queen routine she usually has going on.”
“If she annoys you so much, why don’t you fire her and get someone else?”
Cole frowned again. “I never said she annoyed me. Besides, she’s an excellent assistant and those are hard to find. So keep your hands off her,” he added, a little more vehemently than he’d intended.
Brooks held his hands up. “Hey, I know the rules. Poker club etiquette. No dipping dicks in anyone’s company ink. Isn’t that the saying?”
Cole snorted. “Close enough.”
“No wives or girlfriends, no sisters, and no assistants. I got it.”
“Or mothers.”
“Oh, one time.”
Cole laughed. “Let’s go eat.”
“Finally.” Brooks pushed himself out of the chair and followed Cole out of the office. They were just in time to see the elevator door closing on Kiersten’s pert little ass.
Brooks let out a low whistle. “Don’t know how you do it, man, but more power to you. I’d have to fire her so I could date her.”
Cole glared at him. “You don’t date.”
“For her, I’d make an exception.”
Cole kept his mouth shut in the interest of maintaining his friendship. Brooks was just being Brooks. So why the hell did it bother him so bad that all that testosterone was directed at Kiersten?
Chapter Four
Kiersten hurried out of
the little convenience store, lotto ticket tucked safely in her bag. Hopefully, the little slip of paper or one like it would pay off one of these days. Probably not a great retirement plan, but hell, nothing short of winning the lotto was going to give her enough freedom to ditch her miserable job for good and do something amazing with her life. Not that she’d quite figured out what that was yet, either.
She hurried up the block to Cole’s apartment building and nodded at the doorman, giving him a grateful smile when he held the door open for her. Many days, she’d stay and chat, but she was already running late for her night with the girls. She headed straight through the lobby to the elevator, using her key card to gain access to Cole’s floor. If she took care of things here quickly, she should be able to get home with enough time to get some food in her before they drew the lotto numbers.
The doors opened onto the huge loft space that was a tasteful mix of old world elegance and modern lines, with every smart device known to man tucked away in some corner or another. The place was totally wired, but hidden cleverly enough you’d never know it.
Kiersten marched through the entryway and into the kitchen area where Linda Rosnizikov, Cole’s housekeeper, was straightening up.
“Good evening, Mrs. Ros,” Kiersten said, giving the woman a warm smile.
“Hello, dear. I’ll be finished up in a bit.”
“No rush. I’ll be a few minutes.”
Mrs. Ros nodded and went back to her work. Kiersten made her way upstairs to Cole’s bedroom, her eyes straying as they always did to his bed. Yes, the man was aggravating to the thousandth degree. But he was pretty to look at, and he’d be sexy as hell laid out on that bed. Of course, the fact that she was there to lay out his clothes for the week kind of killed the image.
She went into his giant closet and took out her phone, pulling up his schedule. She made sure all this week’s clothes were in the pile for dry cleaning and went to work pulling outfits for the coming week. The closet had a long cubby for each day. She selected seven suits, shirts, and ties for each day and hung them in their respective cubbies, adding socks, shoes, and underwear to the shelf above each rack. Cole always went to the office, no matter the day.
