The Very Rich Man (The Very Manly Series Book 3)

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The Very Rich Man (The Very Manly Series Book 3) Page 4

by Laura Stapleton


  “Okay, we’re safe now.” He grinned. “You can go back to talking.”

  “Oh?”

  “No walls around us, no people too close. Your hands can roam wherever your conversation takes them.”

  “Oh.” Now he’d given permission, Chloe had nothing to say. Plus, he’d let her hands roam free? She chuckled and breathed in deep before realizing hunger hit her on two levels, his everything and the café’s fresh coffee. “I may be done talking for a while.”

  “That’s too bad. I wanted to hear more about how much better looking I am than your former boss.”

  She turned to him, enough to catch the gleam in his eye. “What? Do I sense a competitive nature? Heaven forbid! And you need to hear this from me? Don’t you have a harem of adoring women stashed somewhere around here for that?”

  “Can’t find them. I hid them too well and they don’t call me anymore.” He grinned at the cashier. “An Americana, a plain daily brew, and a cappuccino, all larges.” Darian held out a credit card, black, and the girl took it before her supervisor nudged her to give it back. She handed it to him and returned Darian’s grin when he said, “Sorry, it’s a habit.” He moved down to the end of the counter. “In all seriousness, I’m focused on work too much to hunt down every woman who wants me.”

  “That sounds like the beginning of an interesting story.” She crossed her arms. “I’d love to hear about the hurdles you face over being a wanted man.”

  “It’s tough being me.” He gave her a wink as his fingers tapped out a silent song on the smooth granite countertop. “We can talk about my appeal later. Right now, we should be going over the Harrison debacle? I’ll need the caffeine, first.”

  “Me, too. Harrison’s been, well, interesting.” Her word choice had been deliberately mild and she liked the humor echoing in his eyes at her admission.

  “Here you are, sir.” The barista held the coffees out to him.

  Chloe stifled a snicker as the girl tilted her head in a flirty manner and Darian didn’t notice. She’d have to corner him in the elevator and asked if he’d ignored the attempt. He’d been kidding around earlier, but seriously? No way could he be that obtuse about the effect he had on the fairer sex.

  She took the Americana slid toward her, giving him the cappuccino and plain coffee. “Thank you. I’ve broken up rocks and dug ditches with less effort than pinning that guy down on a start date.”

  “I didn’t see that on your resume.” He strolled over to the utensils counter and grabbed two lids, giving her one.

  “No, because I was afraid you’d have me do those things here.” She glanced at him, wanting to laugh at his frown. “I’m kidding. You know that. I don’t even think prisoners bust up rocks anymore.”

  He chuckled. “Some of the work you’ve done, your admitting to manual labor wouldn’t surprise me.”

  She carefully put the lid on her cup, concentrating. Spilling this now? Chloe didn’t need the disruption or the mess. “Small town life made me versatile.”

  “Big city life made me soft.”

  She snorted before thinking. “I doubt that! I mean, don’t you go to the gym every day?”

  “Not every day.” He punched the up button, walking in when the doors opened.

  “Right, because men who are built as well as you are do nothing to keep in shape.” She stopped, realizing she’d been talking about him a little too casually. “I mean, generally speaking. And, if you were a guy out in the street, I’d think you worked out a lot. Not, you know, you’re any guy or in the street. You’re in the building. Heck, you own the building.” Chloe stared ahead, not meeting his eyes in the mirrored wall. “I’m going to be quiet for a while.”

  Darian laughed before taking a drink. “I’m getting to like you, Ms. Anders. You’re good for my ego.”

  “I don’t think….” She wanted to tell him without rancor, but needed the right words. “Well, your ego would be fine without my help, I’m sure.”

  “You’d be surprised.” He paused at Marjorie’s desk, leaving the coffee she’d requested. “One thing, Ms. Anders. I’ll need the teleconference moved to today, preferably before seven. The west coast office closes at six.”

  She trailed behind, saying, “Very well, I’ll make it happen.” She watched as he went into his office and eased the door shut. Chloe sank into her chair, powering on her monitor. She liked him as a person, more so every day. He was no Hayden, but was still a great guy. Like her former boss, Darian tolerated her chatter almost too well. She stared at her screensaver. Both men seemed more amused than aghast at her verbal gaffes. Thank goodness, because she liked that whole steady paycheck thing.

  Chloe dialed up the office he’d mentioned, talking to her counterpart there. The meeting set for five their time meant another late night here. This time of year meant even getting home early had her arriving after dark. She sent an email to Darian with the new time and received an instant response.

  Tapping her fingers on her keys, she realized she’d picked up a bad habit from her boss and took her hands off the keyboard. The flashing notification opened to a reminder from him. He wanted her to use instant messaging instead of email. She tried to remember, but it made her feel pushy, intrusive. She might as well use a phone call to interrupt whatever train of thought happened to be chugging through his mind at the moment.

  She glanced up to see Marjorie hovering outside. He must have seen something in her Chloe missed. With a cool smile, she stood and went out. “Hello, did you need anything?”

  “The restroom, if that’s all right with you.”

  The woman’s tone dripped sarcasm, instantly getting Chloe’s back up like an angry cat. “Whatever you need to do is fine.”

  “So you’ll answer the phone if I’m absent for a few minutes? Mr. Lawrence doesn’t like his line to ring more than once. You’ll be able to be fast at picking up?”

  “Of course I can.” She wondered at this sudden trust issue. They’d been in a truce of some sort for over a month, now. The woman didn’t seem to be wearing adult diapers. Chloe shrugged. “You should be able to take breaks once in a while.”

  “All right. Thank you for permission.” Marjorie smirked and left, headed to the restrooms.

  She shook her head at how odd the woman acted. Betty hadn’t said anything about watching the outside desk, but Chloe didn’t see how helping a little could hurt. She sat at the woman’s desk until hearing a soft chime from her Instant messenger. Chloe hopped up to grab her company cell phone. Halfway into her office, the outer telephone rang. She looked at her own desk unit, wondering if she could save time and answer the line in her office. Another light started flashing and both began ringing. She hurried to the outer desk and reached for the larger reception system.

  Marjorie stormed over to her. “What the hell is going on? I thought you said you could handle this!”

  “I can, I am…”

  “Get out of my chair.”

  Chloe hurried off, standing to the side as Marjorie answered the line. “Oh hello, sweetheart. Yes, mommy will pick you up tonight.” She waved Chloe away like a pesky mosquito. “Yes, I’m here. I know, the mean lady wouldn’t answer for you.”

  She ignored the scathing insult, instead turning on her heel and going back to her own desk. When seeing several emails and an IM from Darian, she picked the instant message first. He wanted her in his office, and had taken the time to italicize the word now. In the back of her throat, the fear tasted like metal shavings smelled. She’d not had this reaction to a boss’s irritation since high school. Chloe stood and marched to his office, feeling every bit a condemned woman.

  “Good to see you so promptly,” said Darian as she entered the room. “Close the door behind you, please.” He waited until she sat, momentarily distracted by her nervousness. “What was that mess out there? Tell me you weren’t fighting with Marjorie.”

  “I wasn’t. She was a little frustrated by my missing the phone on its first ring, that’s all.”


  “So was I, to be honest.” He narrowed his eyes at her. Now would be a good time to let her go and find a less attractive replacement. Darian glanced at his computer screen before turning back to her.

  She lifted her chin at his examination. “I know you must be and I’m sorry.”

  “Do you know how to work the main lines? How to pick up, transfer, put calls on hold?” He leaned back, watching her closely for a potential lie. Darian wanted the excuse to transfer her to another department. “I assumed Betty trained you. Did you forget?”

  “She did a fine job of training me. The reception phone is different and I didn’t had a chance to learn everything.”

  “Answering a call on it is different? Really?” He wanted her to admit Marjorie had set her up. A long minute stretched between them.

  “No.”

  He waited for a few seconds. Those turned into several more as he mulled over her misplaced loyalty to his receptionist. “Look. I’ll expect you to at least be able to answer every phone in the building, even if you’re panicked or bullied by someone else.” He saw the mulish expression on her face and held up a hand. “You may not agree and that’s fine. I don’t care. What I do care about is being quick and efficient.”

  He opened up a document on his computer. “Besides, we have bigger things to talk about than this. The one ring rule doesn’t apply to you. I’d invented it back when Marjorie spent more time away from her desk than at it.” Darian glanced up to see her try to stop a smile. “Now. Back to something far less trivial. Have you opened the Brantley document, yet?”

  “No.”

  Of course she hadn’t, thanks to Marjorie’s fuss out there. He pushed his keyboard in under the desk to get it out of the way. “I sent it ten minutes ago. I assume you’re ready to travel with me?”

  “Will we be in the States? My passport hasn’t arrived.”

  “Yes, though New York City might feel international at times.” He grinned at the surprise on her face. “Never been, huh? You’ll like it. Beautiful city, not as much as Denver. Your email tells you everything. The flight leaves tomorrow morning at 4 am and I recommend getting there before then.”

  “Of course. Security being what it is.”

  Darian laughed at the idea of his waiting in line. “At one time, certainly. Then, owning my own plane became more cost effective.” He shrugged. “Except overseas. I charter those.”

  “But, no more frequent flyer miles?”

  He laughed, enjoying her wry grin. “I’m fine with missing out. So, you have two immediate missions this hour. One, call IT and chew on them about their email server times. Second, read what’s happening tomorrow and be ready.”

  “Of course. Anything else?”

  “The meeting at five.”

  She stood. “Right. Take out delivered at 4:30, or will we be home before tomorrow?”

  That’s what had been buzzing in the back of his mind. Tonight’s plans. “For you, yes to both. Order whatever, put it on the company’s tab.”

  “And you?”

  “I have a dinner date.”

  “With an understanding person who’ll wait until tomorrow to eat, I assume.” Chloe held up a hand. “Nope, I’m joking. I don’t need to know or be told to mind my own business.”

  Darian also got to his feet. “Reading my mind. Close the door on the way out, in case Marjorie starts another fight with you.” He laughed at the face she made at him and waited until she secured the door. He took the chance to stretch and refresh his tea. After he pulled up Angelica from his contacts list, he paused.

  She would understand his reason for cancelling. Always did. He sipped, unable to deny how a less wealthy man might not have a girlfriend after this. The word tasted like the middle of a walnut’s shell in his mind. Girlfriend felt wrong when applied to Angelica. Not until a third date, at least. His fingertip hovered over her entry on his cell. One more full night out and she’d be spending the night at his place.

  The hesitation to call, cancel, and not reschedule puzzled him. They had an unspoken agreement. A few dates, he spends money, and soon, but not too much so, she’d provide sex. He let the call begin, disgusted with his indecision. “Hey, gorgeous, how are you?”

  “Don’t tell me. You need to work late again?” She sighed, making a wind noise on the tiny microphone. “I was so looking forward to seeing you tonight.”

  He opened his mouth to agree before his brain stopped him. Did he agree? Really? “I’m sorry, Ange. It’s impossible tonight.”

  “I could always have dinner ready for you here, whenever you’re done.”

  Unable to resist, he teased, “Said the spider to the fly.”

  “I can’t help wanting to accommodate you, Darian. You’re worth it.”

  He rolled his eyes at the sentiment. “Thank you, but it’s a no go for tonight.”

  “Tomorrow, then?”

  “I’m out of town for a while, sweetheart.” He shrugged before realizing she’d not see him. “You don’t want to wait on me.”

  “Oh. I see. This is a “It’s not you, it’s me,” speech.”

  “No, not really, I’m just busy.” He heard the lie but couldn’t grab it back.

  Her silence stretched for a few seconds. “Right. So am I. Tonight, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life. Goodbye, Darian.”

  After the click, he stared at his phone. “That went well,” he muttered, pausing before deleting the number. Given some time to cool off, she might be open to a more casual relationship. One where he could live and work without explaining everything to her. He smirked, settling into his chair. Every woman he’d dated after making his fortune sang the same song. No commitments, no expectations until both were ready. Trouble was, the gals didn’t get to the second date before talking marriage.

  He woke his computer to IM Chloe about dinner, asking to add his usual to the ticket. She replied and he opened the file to focus on the upcoming meeting. The alert tones with emails and messages from his vice presidents distracted too much. Darian turned off the notifications, enjoying the silence while he reviewed costs for the prior quarter. He trusted his accounting team, but still. No one loved his money as much as he did.

  A light knock at his door got his attention. He focused his eyes at the computer clock and saw a couple of hours had passed. “Yes?”

  Chloe peeked in. “Sir? Dinner is here.”

  He resumed messages and saw she’d informed him there too, and stood. “Great. Come in and bring the food. I’m starving.” She held a white paper bag out to him, so he took it. “Did you order something?”

  “Yes, it’s on my desk.”

  “Bring it and we’ll go over a few things while we eat.”

  “Sure.” She reappeared with her own meal. “I called your housekeeper, letting her know you were dining here this evening.”

  “Thank you. Did you tell her about tomorrow, too?”

  “Yes. I mentioned you being in New York. She asked about later, but I didn’t know when you planned on returning.”

  He paused in mid lift of salad to his mouth. “I’d planned on being back that day, but it’s Friday, isn’t it?”

  Chloe nodded, chewing her sandwich. She swallowed, adding, “The Rockefeller tree is already up.”

  Darian grinned. “Been looking at the sights already, huh?”

  “A little.”

  Her face flushed a charming shade of pink, he decided. “Why don’t we make a weekend of it? If you don’t have plans, we can come back Sunday afternoon.” He chuckled at the cagy expression on her face. “Two rooms, of course. No, let’s make that a suite. So your innocence is retained. I’ll have you home in time for a Saturday date, assuming you have one.”

  “That’s amazing. You’d do that?” She paused. “Wait, we? Together?”

  “I hope so. It would be fun to see everything anew.” He shrugged. “Although, I don’t have to stay. I could take my plane home and have etickets sent to you for La Guardia.”

  “Together is fi
ne. I’d rather not be here alone after dark. Just wonder how, well, what…”

  “How together, you mean?”

  She nodded “Yes, because I’m every female cliché in one person. Drying pantyhose decorating the bathroom, hogging all the blankets, wanting the room to be ice cold.”

  “In that case, you’re getting your own hotel,” he retorted and enjoyed her laugh. Darian covertly studied her as she ate. Chloe seemed a lot more confident now than in the first week and he enjoyed her playful side. Most days, she kept her hair pinned back in a ponytail tight enough to double as a facelift. He went back to finishing up his dinner. Not that she needed the stretch, of course. She had a good couple of decades before worrying about her looks fading. Loose fly aways of blond hair framed her face and he wondered about her slight disarray. “Is it windy outside?” She gave him a questioning look of her own and he explained, “Your hair. It’s messier than usual, which is not at all, ever.”

  “Ah,” she wiped her mouth. “I don’t know about outside. Marjorie and I had a huge fight out front. All we needed was the mud for wrestling. I almost broke a nail.”

  The idea of both women in bikinis and covered in mud sounded great to him. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Because it didn’t happen. You’re right, it’s really windy out today.”

  He laughed. “That’s a shame. I’d pay real money to see you and Marj fight it out.”

  “You don’t have enough in any account to pay me for that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Now, don’t we have real issues to discuss?”

  Darian handed her his trash as she cleaned up. “Touche’ boss. I sent you a list of things to do next month, before year end.”

  “Yes, you did. I’ve already incorporated them into my calendar.” She left the room, returning with her tablet.

  “Good.” His email dinged with a message from Murphy. “We should be getting the conference call any minute now.”

 

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