The Last Affair--A Hot Billionaire Workplace Romance

by A. C. Arthur

  “All right,” Maurice began, “I don’t know what we’re doing. There, I said it.” Admitting the problem was the first step to recovery, or so people said. But what was he trying to recover from? He liked being with Des. He liked it a lot. There shouldn’t be any problems with that, nor should there be any other questions or concerns. And yet, he was full of questions and concerns right now.

  “That’s usually how it starts,” Ron said with a nod before sticking his cigar between his teeth.

  “He’s right,” Major added. “I started out thinking Nina and I were just working for the company, and the next thing I knew I was buying her a ring.”

  “Your mother had me going to concerts where men sang nothing but love songs. She smelled like fresh-picked flowers and, man, I couldn’t get that scent out of my mind to save my life.” Hearing his father talk about falling in love with his mother made Maurice respect his parents and their marriage even more. Once upon a time, when he was very young and mostly stupid, he’d thought that was what his adult life would look like.

  It was a good thing he’d grown up.

  Almost getting India killed in that accident had been a sobering and maturing experience. While hooking up with Des online was something akin to fate, if he were prone to believe in that type of thing. All he knew for certain was that this thing with Des was unexpected and tempting as hell. What if it continued? What if they ended up in love or engaged, or...could he even allow himself to think like that?

  No, he couldn’t.

  No matter how good it felt to be with Des, he knew he couldn’t risk it. After all he’d been through, he couldn’t get entangled like that again.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. Standing, he pulled it out and read the message. He felt a boiling rage at seeing the message for the tenth time this week. It must’ve showed on his face, because Major noticed.

  “What is it? One of your exes trying to come back for seconds?” his twin asked.

  “Now, that’s gonna be his biggest issue. Turning down all those women he still had waiting in line for their chance with him.” At that, RJ laughed.

  “Maurice, man, you all right?” Chaz asked.

  “Is there a problem at the office, son?” Ron chimed in when it seemed like something serious was going on.

  Maurice heard all their questions, but it sounded like they were traveling through a tunnel. His ears had begun to ring, and he clenched his teeth as he read each word again. Now was not the time for this. His sister was getting married, his brother had just celebrated his first holiday with his new wife, and his mother was elated about him and Des.

  Des.

  How would she react if she found out about this?

  When his father called his name again, Maurice looked around the room, noting all the people he was closest to in life. If there was nobody else in the world he could trust with this, he could trust these men, and he knew that unequivocally.

  “I’m being blackmailed,” he said solemnly. “Twenty million dollars or they go to the press with a paternity scandal that could derail the entire plan we’re putting in place for Riley’s wedding.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ON TUESDAY, DESTA sat at her desk looking at the digital ads her team had composed using pictures of Riley and Chaz. She had until four this afternoon to decide on one to send to Infinity magazine in time for their special holiday edition. She’d reviewed all five designs at least twenty times in the last hour.

  “Knock, knock.” Not moving her hands from the keyboard, she glanced up at the open door to her office to see Nina walking in. “Hey. You ready?”

  Dressed in black jeans, knee-high boots and a leather jacket, Nina looked more like a classy biker than the co-owner of a multi-million-dollar tech company.

  “Hi. Ready for what?”

  With a sigh and half smile, Nina came to the edge of Desta’s desk. “Lunch. We scheduled a lunch date Sunday before you left the house. Today’s the day, and I’m just about on time.” Nina checked her watch. “With five minutes to spare.”

  “Oh crap!” She’d totally forgotten about that, even though she’d seen it on her calendar this morning. The slipup was slightly embarrassing, and she shook her head. “I’ll be ready in five minutes. Just let me shut this down and grab my purse.”

  Nina laughed. “Girl, no rush. I’m free for the rest of the afternoon so I can get some of my Christmas shopping done.”

  Groaning, Desta shook her head and minimized the open tabs on her screen before locking her computer. “Don’t even talk about it. I haven’t done any shopping yet. Well, that’s not totally true. I got a few seasons of Murder, She Wrote for my grandmother. She loves that show.”

  When Desta stood, Nina was shaking her head. “I was going to ask what that was.”

  “Oh yeah, a television show from the eighties and nineties. I grew up watching it with her.” Desta grabbed her coat from the chair she’d tossed it on this morning, and they headed to the elevator.

  Twenty minutes later they were seated in a Manhattan restaurant with two mountain-size steak salads in front of them.

  “So, we’ve talked about work, Christmas shopping or lack thereof and the wedding.” Nina used a napkin to wipe her hands before taking a drink from the glass of soda she’d ordered. “Now, let’s talk about you and Maurice.”

  Desta knew she couldn’t have been lucky enough to get through this entire outing without Nina broaching that subject. There’d been a few questions while she, Nina, Marva and Riley had sat in the living room after Sunday dinner, but mostly that conversation had revolved around Riley and the details of her destination wedding. Now, she figured Nina thought it was time for her and Maurice to be in the spotlight.

  Throughout her life, Desta had never had a lot of girlfriends, so this should’ve seemed odd. She and Riley were coworkers and friendly, but like Desta—at least before earlier this year—Riley hadn’t been the girlfriend type, either. Nina, on the other hand, had sisters and so was more inclined to close female friendships. Besides that, Nina wasn’t a blood member of the Gold family, so Desta felt a certain kinship to her. And to be honest, she needed to talk. So much had been going through her mind in the days since that dinner, having a sounding board would be a blessing.

  “We’re seeing each other,” she said as if that had to be announced.

  Nina laughed. “I think I got that much. How long have you been seeing each other? Major really did guess that you two were involved, but I swear I never saw it coming. Was it really just the run-in at the ski resort?”

  “No.” It was the truth, and she needed to say it out loud. “I’m starting to think it’s been brewing for a long time. As I look back over my time here at the company, I’ve been around Maurice the most, and whenever I was at the Gold mansion we were always together. I guess I never paid much attention to that at first.” She hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind in the past few days. “The ski resort was a shock to both of us, but then things just sort of clicked.” With the help of three months’ worth of very graphic emails, but still, Desta knew there was much more to it than that. There was no way she would’ve done the things she did with Maurice in the Finger Lakes with a guy she’d just met face-to-face for the first time. Sex, sure, but being so open in those sessions, sharing those private parts of herself and then giving herself the way she had each night... No, that was all because she’d known Maurice for so long.

  “Like a real-life friends-to-lovers story. Oh, this is so sweet. You know, you usually only see this stuff in movies.” Nina had started poking her fork into her salad again.

  “I guess.” Desta wasn’t hungry now. She was conflicted or confused, not sure which.

  Nina paused before taking another bite. “You don’t sound so sure. Are you in love with him?”

  That word rendered her still. Her mind was freezing as it wrapped around the sound
of those four letters together. She couldn’t be in love with Maurice. It was too soon, and Desta had never been a believer in insta-love. But hadn’t she just recalled how close they’d been for the last five years? What if her true feelings for him were just manifesting? “I wasn’t looking to fall in love.” Then, what had she been looking for? To reclaim control of her life? Well, she’d done that by being successful in her job. What else was there to claim? Her heart, she thought with a gasp. All this time, harboring the anger and resentment toward Gordon was like letting him keep her heart.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think Maurice was, either.” Nina chewed the forkful of salad she’d put into her mouth and then shrugged. “Neither were Major and I. And from the stories she’s told me, I’m positive love was the last thing on Riley’s mind when she and Chaz hooked up.”

  “What are you saying?” Desta played with her food while Nina took another drink from her glass.

  “I’m saying that nobody ever plans love. That’s not how it works.”

  No plan meant no control. Desta had experience with love, and she hadn’t liked it. How was this situation any different?

  An hour later she was back in her office, trying her best to stop thinking about the conversation with Nina and all its implications. The new Mrs. Gold was quite smug in her assessment of Desta and Maurice’s relationship, and if she weren’t so close to the truth—at least where Desta was concerned—Desta might’ve had the nerve to be pissed off at Nina’s presumptiveness.

  It was close to four, and she still hadn’t made a decision on the mock-ups, so Desta was extra irritated when her cell phone rang.

  Taking a deep breath before answering, she pushed the button and said, “Hey, Ma.”

  “Hey, Dessie.” Once upon a time this had been the only nickname Desta answered to. Now, her heart warmed each time Maurice called her Des. “Didn’t get a chance to talk to you over the Thanksgiving weekend so I thought I’d call now. Mama said she talked to you and that you’d had dinner with your boss’s family.”

  “Yeah. I worked right up until it was time for their annual dinner, so I just joined them, and then I went away for a weekend.” She knew that was a mistake as soon as she’d said it.

  “You went away, but you didn’t come home?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that.

  Sheryl moved on just fine without a response. “I want you to come home for Christmas. No excuses, Dessie. It’s been too long.”

  What was it, Slap Desta in the Face with All Her Truths Day? It was time for her to go home. Truthfully, she’d been foolish to stay away for so long. Her family loved her; they wouldn’t have judged her. But she’d judged and blamed herself for something she knew hadn’t been her fault.

  “Yeah, Ma. I’ll come home for Christmas.” Saying the words lifted a weight from her she hadn’t known she’d been carrying. Desta wondered about those other words she and Nina had discussed. She considered the possibility that she might be falling in love with a guy who’d been her friend for the last five years. More importantly, she wondered how that guy was feeling about her.

  * * *

  “Thought you’d still be here.” She hadn’t heard his voice all day. Not since they’d stepped off the elevators this morning and walked in different directions to their offices.

  Glancing down at her watch, she sighed. Once she’d finally decided on the picture and sent it off, she’d jumped right into the next project to be completed. She sat back in her chair and looked at him. “Lost track of time.”

  “I see, back to your usual pace.” Pushing away from the doorframe where he’d been leaning, Maurice closed the door behind him and made his way into her office.

  She recalled watching him dress in the heather-gray suit, light blue shirt and tie this morning. When he’d gone to his place and grabbed a change of clothes yesterday, she’d had no idea. But after last night’s dinner meeting with Parker Donovan to discuss the exclusive articles on Riley and Chaz to be printed in Infinity over the next six months, they’d gone directly to her apartment. And straight to bed like an old married couple, because they’d both been working nonstop since seven that morning. Now he walked his sexy self across the floor of her office as if he totally belonged here.

  “You’ve got nerve. You’re still here at seven thirty at night, too,” she pointed out.

  Normally, when he came to her office, he’d sit in one of the guest chairs positioned across from her desk. Tonight, he came around the side and perched a hip on the corner by the sleek speakers she’d purchased last year during a Black Friday sale. “We’re both workaholics. There’s a remedy for that, though.”

  She rested her hands on the arms of the chair, settling into the comfortable ease they’d had around each other for years. “Yeah? What’s the remedy?”

  “I’d say another one of those massages we had at the resort. But for tonight, a hot bath. Order-in dinner. Football game on TV, or in your case one of those sappy holiday movies you bribed me into watching the other night.” Even taking a deliberate jab at her, he was charming. From the even tone of his voice to the sexy grin that punctuated his words and the casual way he lounged his toned body on her desk as if that were the only place in her office for him to sit, his allure was incomparable.

  “I’ve got a better suggestion,” she said, and he raised a brow in question. “I’ll pick the takeout, and you pick what we watch on TV.”

  His nod of agreement came quickly. “Your place or mine?”

  Maurice had a very nice and spacious apartment in the NoHo neighborhood of Manhattan. She’d been there twice—once to drop off files from work and another time to pick up a painting she’d won from him in one of their monthly poker games. He hadn’t invited her there since they’d returned from the Finger Lakes, and she hadn’t minded. Her place was her comfort zone. It offered her complete control over when the date would end. Or at least, that was how it’d worked on the past few dates she’d had.

  “Don’t overthink this. It’s not that big a deal,” he said, tapping the lines she knew appeared on her forehead when she was deep in thought. “We’ll go to your place. Did you drive today?”

  “No.” She rarely ever drove her car to work. The subway was easier than fighting traffic.

  “Then, gather your things, and we’ll get ready to leave.” While the Golds all used the company car service for transportation to and from work, Maurice always drove his car. He called it an extension of his daily routine and noted he’d be lost without Sweet Sally—the name he’d given his black Porsche 718 Boxster.

  She didn’t move when he eased off the edge of her desk and started walking toward the door. She couldn’t—the sense that something was crawling just beneath her skin had started again, and she clenched her teeth in an effort to ease the discomfort.

  “You okay?” She heard him ask through the haze of emotion swirling around her.

  “No.” A lie would’ve been easier, and then she could’ve pushed past the occurrence and told herself she was making progress. She had been, at least during the past week. Between work and spending her evenings with Maurice, she hadn’t thought about her past, until today during her conversation with Nina about falling in love.

  “Hey.” He was back, circling around her desk this time, grabbing the back of her chair and turning it so she faced him when he knelt in front of her. “What’s going on? You were drifting away like this on and off at the resort. Is it about your ex?” A muscle twitched in his jaw.

  There was concern in his tone and sincerity in his eyes. She knew those eyes, had known them for a long time. They’d never made her feel the way she was feeling right now, though. The change was a bit discomforting.

  “It’s this. Us. What we’ve been doing since the trip.” There, she’d said it. The thing that was stopping her from fully grasping all that Nina had talked about earlier. He was right: it h
ad been right there between them from the moment she’d spotted him at the resort.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He wouldn’t, and not because he didn’t have the capacity to. That would be leaning on that reputation he’d carefully constructed. She knew him better than that, especially now after he’d told her about the accident with his first girlfriend.

  She flattened her palms on her thighs, rubbing them back and forth. He gently placed his hands on top of hers, ceasing their movement and turning them over so that he could lace his fingers through hers. “This is me, Des. Not Dear Lover, not the guy in the tabloids, it’s just me. Tell me what’s on your mind. Please.”

  “I’m not comfortable taking commands from men. Being controlled to suit their needs, directed to do only the things that please them. It just doesn’t work for me.” A flush went through her body, and she shivered against it. “It probably sounds silly to you, but it’s a very real thing for me.”

  “What do you need me to do, or stop doing?” That was it? All it took was for her to tell him what not to do. Why hadn’t that worked before?

  “It’s so natural for you to lead and control. It’s the way you were brought up, and you don’t use it in an aggressive way. I’ve always known that about you.” So why couldn’t she stop this foolishness? “You think I’m controlling, bossy, and that might be true on some level, but it’s because I’ve had to be. Like Riley, I have very domineering brothers, so I always had to stand my ground.” She’d also had Gordon, but she didn’t want to bring that up again. Telling him about that very dark time in her life had been a huge step for her, but what she’d told him hadn’t been everything.

  It didn’t matter whether she said it or not, the sorrowful look in his eyes said he was thinking it, anyway.

  “I won’t ever try to make you do anything you don’t want to do. You know that. If you don’t want to have dinner tonight, that’s fine. Just tell me what you want.”