Bad Behavior

by Kristin Hardy

  Not what he wanted to see when he had an 8:00 a.m. meeting.

  Shave, shower, dress, pack. Whipping through it all at light speed while his brain was only half-awake left him feeling disjointed. But he and Eric had managed to arrive in time for their meeting, the first of five that day. Five times to walk through the presentation that had by now begun popping up in his nightmares. Five times to press the flesh, then the rush to the airport to catch yet another flight, this one, mercifully, headed home.

  But the payoff at the other end was Delaney, all soft and silky and laughing.

  Yeah, time to get moving, Dom thought. Except that he had one problem—the conference room projector refused to work with his computer.

  Eric shook his head and rose. “You’ve got me.”

  “I’ll call in one of our tech guys.” Dale Proctor, manager of Craig’s small cap fund, headed out of the room.

  And Dom sat, resisting the urge to drum his fingers. He’d started the day behind. The last thing he wanted to do was sit here wasting time. He pulled out his BlackBerry. At least he could check his e-mail.

  An instant later, he wished he hadn’t. Too much to do, too much left undone the night before. It wasn’t as if he could do a heck of a lot with it all now.

  Then he saw Delaney’s name pop up and a smile spread over his face. Here was a choice: start out with work and save the best for last, or start with Delaney.

  No contest.

  “Just in case you need some inspiration,” the message read. Inspiration, he could use, he thought and clicked on the attachment just as Proctor came back into the room with one of his computer specialists.

  “I brought some coffee, too,” Proctor said, setting down the cups and making a pile of cream and sugar packets.

  Dom grabbed a cup black. “Thanks,” he said, taking a grateful gulp as he watched the image file open up on the tiny screen of his PDA.

  A red circle in the middle of pale cream, a rising mound. A central peak. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing.

  Delaney’s breast.

  Naked.

  The air left his lungs. He stared, hard, the image ricocheting around his synapses.

  Proctor had spoken, Dom realized, and he glanced up. “Huh?”

  “Where were you before this?” Proctor repeated, sitting down and stirring his coffee.

  Delaney’s breast. Hastily, Dom shut the file and deleted the message, muttering, “St. Louis with Wheels Up.” The image still burned on his retina, bounced around his brain.

  Next to him, Eric stiffened.

  “Wheels Up?” Proctor asked, staring at him with special attention.

  And with the force of a blow, Dom realized what he’d done. Adrenaline whipped through him. “Oh, you know, trying to stay plugged in.” Casual, he thought, taking care to continue glancing down at his BlackBerry. Don’t give it any importance.

  Delaney’s breast, naked.

  “You talking about some kind of a deal with them? I hadn’t read anything about that.”

  “Nothing to read,” Dom said calmly. “We’re always looking around and talking.” He tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut. You didn’t let something slip to a fund manager without suffering the consequences. “Right now, though, the big news is the IPO.”

  “Got it!” The technician said triumphantly and Dom gave silent thanks.

  The presentation was a blur, the Q and A a tightrope walk between avoiding handing out more information and avoiding giving the impression they’d let something slip.

  Outside, Eric pulled Dom aside.

  “I’m sorry,” Dom said before Eric could start. “I blew it. I got distracted.”

  “You jumped all over me before for something that was barely a hint. Hell, you gave them the name.”

  “I know. Look, it was an accident. I was thinking about something else.”

  Delaney’s breast. Delaney.

  “You’ve got to get it together, buddy. You’re slipping in all kinds of ways and none of it is doing us any good.”

  “So where does it put us?”

  Eric stepped to the curb to flag a passing cab. “Depends on whether the SEC finds out. If they do, we’ll be in deep. I suppose one thing we can argue is that there’s no deal inked withWheels Up. You said more than you should have, but it was a general statement of possibilities rather than expectation.”

  “Would it make a difference?” Dom asked as they got in.

  “Maybe. Hopefully.”

  “What would they do?”

  Eric gave the cab driver the address. “If they decide it’s minor, slap our hands, maybe fine us. If they think it’s a true violation of the silent period, they could push back the IPO.”

  Dom stared out the window. “The underwriters…”

  “I’d worry more about the investors who’ve pledged to buy stock,” Eric said grimly. “They might evaporate if they feel as if we’ve been playing favorites, or we don’t have our act together.”

  Dom’s jaw tightened. All the work, all the hours, all the years of planning and building, to possibly get screwed up by a careless slip of the tongue.

  “Look,” Eric said, “I think you did a good job covering with Proctor. Maybe we’ll luck out.”

  Dom was shaking his head even before Eric finished. “And if the SEC finds out by accident, we’ll be history.”

  “They won’t find out.”

  “They always find out. We’d be better off telling them what happened.”

  “But then we—”

  “I’m not a fan of nasty surprises,” Dom reminded him. “Let’s just deal with it. I am such a goddamned idiot.” He slammed a fist into the seat, furious. And no one to blame but himself. After five weeks of vigilance, he’d been the one to shoot his mouth off. And all he had worked for, all his father had worked for, what would take care of his mother and family for the rest of their lives, all perhaps undone by a moment’s carelessness. The weight of it all descended on him, threatened to crush him. He’d let himself get distracted.

  He glanced at his BlackBerry.

  It wouldn’t happen again.

  DELANEY STOOD IN BAGGAGE claim, waiting restlessly for Dom. All day, she’d been buzzing with impatience, knowing he was coming home. Now that he was here, it was even worse. Soon, though, soon she’d be with him, holding him, kissing him.

  Jumping him.

  When he appeared at the bottom of the escalator, she took a moment to stare. Forget that he hadn’t called back the night before. There were times real life took over. But now he was here and as he walked toward her, all the uncertainty ebbed and she just let herself feel. She just let herself love. Such a beautiful man. It didn’t matter if he was exhausted and travel worn, he was all she could have wanted to see.

  “Hey, big boy, want a ride?” she asked as he walked up. Without waiting for an answer, she slid her arms around him and took his mouth with hers. And the need rose as sharp and strong as ever. “I think we need to get you home and get your clothes off,” she murmured. When Dom broke the kiss and shifted away, though, she saw the lines of fatigue. “Everything okay? You look a little rough around the edges.”

  “It’s fine. But I have to get home.”

  “We can do that,” she said. She gave him quiet on the ride to his house, understanding that he maybe needed the space. When they got there, he shrugged off his jacket and sat back on the couch with a sigh. Delaney settled beside him and took his hand. “You look wiped.”

  He sighed. “I am.”

  “We have ways of dealing with that.” She shifted to straddle him. “How about a bath?” She dropped a kiss on his forehead as she loosened his tie. “Or a massage. You look like you could use one.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “There are always other ways to relax.” She reached for his belt.

  And blinked when he put his hands on her hips and moved her away. “Look, I can’t do this right now.” He rose to retrieve his computer.

 
“You’re going to work?” She stared after him. “You had meetings all day and you’ve got off a four-hour flight. Give yourself a break.”

  He sat back down. “Something’s come up.”

  “Dom, it’s seven o’clock on a Friday night. What can it possibly matter at this point? Do it tomorrow. Take tonight off.”

  “No, okay?” His voice sharpened. “I told you, I don’t have time for this.”

  She felt a chill. Where was the guy who couldn’t keep his hands off her? “Did something happen with the IPO?” she asked.

  Dom rubbed his temples. “Yeah, something happened. I screwed up. I may have violated the SEC quiet period in a meeting today.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I got distracted and said something I shouldn’t have about an acquisition we’re working on. Something that’s not a part of the official record. You’re not allowed to do that.”

  “Kind of like insider trading information? So what happens now?” she asked when he nodded.

  “Funny, that’s the question Eric and I have been asking ourselves. I don’t know. It’s part of what I have to decide. We can play it safe and ’fess up or we can gamble and see if the SEC gets wind of it. Neither one is a great option.” He was silent for a second or two then cursed violently and stalked to the windows to stare out. “I am such an idiot. It should never have happened.”

  “You’re not an idiot.” She came up to slide her arms around him from behind, feeling the tension. “You’ve been working like a dog, not sleeping, stressing out. Sooner or later it stands to reason it would catch up to you. Stop making yourself crazy. Tonight, let’s go to bed or go out. Or take the GTO down to the beach and find a dark spot under the pier to fool around. Come on, Jake,” she nuzzled him, “I dare you.”

  He pulled her arms from around him. “Enough, okay?” he said shortly. “Enough of the dares, enough of the cute stuff. Enough of sending goddamned pictures. Or picture,” he bit off.

  Suddenly, she felt as though she were standing in a draft. “The picture?” she repeated carefully, heart thudding. “You mean the one I sent last night?”

  “I didn’t get it last night. I didn’t get around to checking my messages until I was in a conference room this morning. And presto, there you were, in living color. Or part of you.” He threw open the slider and walked out on the deck. “And while I was processing that, I let it slip about Wheels Up.”

  “But I sent it to your home address,” she protested weakly.

  “All my addresses come to my BlackBerry.”

  Good Lord. “I never meant…Dom, I’m sorry.” It was supposed to have been a turn-on, something flirty and fun. Not this. Never this.

  “You may not have intended anything to happen but it did, Delaney. Don’t you see? I can’t have you doing that kind of stuff,” he said flatly. “There’s no room for that in my life, the wild stuff, taking crazy chances, blowing off work. Not when I’m in the middle of the most important project of my life. Enough, okay?”

  “Wait a minute,” she rounded on him. “I like the crazy chances. I like the dares. That’s part of who I am. And you like it, too.”

  “But I can’t have it going on right now.”

  And she felt the first prickles of dread. She swallowed. “What does that mean?”

  She could see the tightness in his jaw. He let out a breath. “Okay, look, understand, I’m ticked at myself, not you. I should never have made that mistake.”

  “Nobody intends to make mistakes,” she said in exasperation. “That’s why they’re called mistakes.”

  “No, but it happened because I was distracted. The IPO’s at a crucial point. I cannot afford to screw up. And that means I’ve got to minimize my distractions so that they don’t cause any more problems.”

  And she felt something crack and splinter inside her. A distraction. She was in love with him, he thought her a distraction. Of the worst possible kind. “Minimize your distractions?” she repeated aridly. “I take it that means me.”

  “Delaney, I care about you. You mean more to me than anyone else ever has. But I’m spinning a lot of plates at the moment. The IPO. G.A.C. My family. You. And I can’t keep up.”

  He had his priorities and she wasn’t one of them. “I’m not a plate, Dom,” she said, an edge in her voice. She’d given him her heart, foolishly, rashly. The best he could say was that he cared about her.

  When she wasn’t being a distraction.

  “I know you’re not.” He took a few steps away and turned back to her. “I just can’t do this right now. There’s too much riding on the IPO.”

  And all that was riding on the two of them was her heart. “So what are you saying?” Some perverse part of her was going to make him speak the words.

  “I’m saying…” He let out a long breath. “I’m saying I need some time off from you and I. For a month or so. When the IPO’s over—”

  “Something else will come up,” she interrupted. “That’s how it works, Dom.” That was how it worked with people like him, the ones who could separate their lives into neat compartments. Now it was her turn to pace.

  “Dammit, Delaney, I’m trying to do the best I can here. I’m trying to watch out for everyone and I do not have the bandwidth for this right now.”

  As though she were a burden, a hassle. An irritation.

  Her lips felt cold. “You’re walking away.” She turned blindly and went inside. This couldn’t be happening again. How stupid could she be? She’d blundered back together with him, thinking it would be different and the same thing was happening all over again.

  Only this time, she wasn’t fourteen. This time, it wasn’t about holding hands. This time, she was in love with him. And it was going to take more than a few weeks of playing Sinead O’Connor to get over that.

  “Delaney, wait.” He followed her.

  “No,” she said, crossing to his front door, her voice sounding a long way away from her. Anger, frustration, betrayal rushed through her. And pain.

  And pain.

  “I didn’t mean it to sound that way,” he protested.

  She whirled to him. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter how you say it, it all comes down to the same thing. You don’t have time for this? You don’t want to hassle with it? You don’t want me right now but maybe later? It doesn’t work that way, Dom,” she said hotly. “You don’t get to be the one to walk away again.” She trembled as she picked up her purse, her hands like ice. “This time, it’s my turn.”

  And she opened the door and she went.

  16

  A GUY COULD GROW TO HATE hotel rooms, especially at night. During the days, Dom was focused, on the move, racing against the clock to get things done. At night, there was too much time to think, about Delaney, about the future, about what he’d given up. The worst part was after he’d switched out the lights, when the rat wheel in his brain began turning and squeaking as the regrets circled over and over.

  And he kept hearing the sound of the door as it closed behind her.

  He’d done the only thing he could, Dom told himself, staring out the window at the parking structure across the street. Considering what was at stake, it had been the only choice. He’d made one hell of a mess of it, though. What he’d asked for was time, what she’d heard was rejection and it had all spiraled out of his control.

  And he’d hurt her. That was the part he found impossible to forgive himself for.

  The irony was that he’d thought that breaking things off with her—taking a break—would remove pressure, make life easier. Things would return to being clear, simple. Instead, he felt like ten kinds of hell. He missed her. He needed her. He—

  Dom made an impatient noise. He was doing it again. He was supposed to be working and once again he was thinking about Delaney, trying to forget how soft her skin could be, trying to forget her delighted giggle when she was teasing him, trying to forget how every day with her had been like a box of Cracker Jack, with a hidden prize.


  He cursed and tried to focus on the file showing on his computer, a list of G.A.C. sales figures for California and Oregon. The last thing he needed to do was sit around feeling sorry for himself, obsessing, asking the same questions over and over.

  Like why the hell he’d broken up with Delaney in the first place if it was only to wind up thinking about her more than ever.

  THE TOP OF THE BAR GLOWED with light. Music pulsed. She had a fresh Bellini in her hand.

  And Delaney wanted nothing more than to go home.

  Sure, the room crackled with that special of-the-moment aura and she was pretty sure that was an Oscar-nominated actor over at the corner of the bar holding court. It only made her tired.

  “Well, here’s to our girl’s success story,” Cilla said in an overly hearty tone of voice.

  “To the new promotion,” Sabrina said.

  “And getting out from under Janet the witch,” Paige added.

  Trish leaned in. “Plus all the wonderful things you’re going to buy with your fabulous new raise.”

  Glasses clinked and they all drank.

  And watched her just a little too closely.

  There was a law of conservation of happiness, Delaney supposed, striving to keep a smile plastered on her face. Happiness could be neither created nor destroyed, merely redistributed. If she’d still been in bliss with Dom, getting Janet out of her hair would have given her joy enough to violate natural limits. Instead, the promotion merely served in some measure to counterbalance the aching, ever-present loss that was now a part of her world.

  Except that it wasn’t even close to a fair trade-off. Yes, it had been a welcome surprise when Carter Price dropped into her office earlier that day to give her the news. But he’d found her as she’d reached one of those moments when it all became too much and the misery had pushed her to tears.

  She wasn’t built for despair. She had no real idea how to cope with it. It might have been easier if she’d been through heartbreak before. Sure, she’d hurt over Dom the first time around, but she’d been not much more than a child. Since then, she’d taken care to always maintain the upper hand in her involvements. The ends could be ugly or uncomfortable. Sometimes, she’d felt regret.