by Fifi Flowers
“What the hell happened to you, old man?” Trey was still in party mode.
“He met his dream woman.” Rex rolled his eyes.
I groaned and took a swig of ale. “I have a lot going on right now. I didn’t think relocating and starting this new adventure would kick my butt. Last time we went out, I almost shared a cardboard box with some homeless guy.” I laughed, but I was telling the truth. “I can’t drink like the old days.”
“I still say it’s that woman. Ask and I shall deliver,” said Rex before downing a shot of something that had just been place in front of him, compliments of some chicks sitting nearby, and looked at me, intently. He often posed that offer; I always refused as he dangled it in my face. “Maybe she’s it—your soulmate—the one!” I swatted his words away, shaking my head no.
“Romeo, give up. You’re getting too mushy with all that romance shit you’re writing.” Trey jumped in to save me and turned the conversation around to focus on our finally-out-of-the-author-closet friend. “You hook up with that Tommy-girl yet?”
“No. We’re just writing sex, not doing it.” Rex didn’t seem thrilled about that.
Afraid that they would keep me out too late, I made a play to take off. Besides, I wanted to steer clear of Rex’s loose lips after his consumption of too many drinks. I had a feeling something was going on with him and Thumbelina, and I wanted no part. Not to mention, I didn’t want to hear him say anything about Willow. Fate would either step in or it wouldn’t.
Chapter Seventeen
Willow
The day had finally arrived; the merger was complete. Building walls had been torn down and new ones erected to take over the entire fifteenth floor. New executive offices had been decorated and new assistants graced extra added cubicles. On the day of our first bi-monthly meeting since the expansion, we were finally going to get a glimpse at the new partner. I would get to see who was questioning some of my proposals and requests. So far, we had been able to make compromises, though we had never spoken or communicated. Suze was our go between, which was fine by me. It kept me from arguing with authority. Not to mention, it was probably allowing me to keep my position within the company.
Nervous about the meeting, I was in my office a whole hour earlier than I needed to be. Looking for a distraction, I answered some personal emails. Well, most of them. The last email I read, I had no clue how to answer. Of course, it was another puzzling admission from my mother going back over our family history as if I hadn’t already lived it.
From: Marian Dane
To: Willow Dane
You’re the strong one!
Today at 4:00 AM
Hello Dear,
Thanks for the e-reader, Willow. And the gift cards. Sylvia is helping me load it later today. She said they were a great way of hiding romance novel covers. LMAO! She taught me that one. She said you’d know what it meant. I learned the smiling face thing too :) You could probably teach me more than she has been. I wish I could say I taught you something useful. I didn’t teach the boys anything, either. The boys needed the business. You didn’t and your father knew it. The boys needed him. I think he saw your drive and maybe he did it the wrong way, but he pushed you. He never wanted you to take over his business. He wanted you to find something you loved. Not like something he stepped into. He never wanted to own car dealerships. He wanted to be in car racing. The closest he got was sponsoring cars later in life. Kids came along. Money became the objective. The business got big fast. He expanded to several cities. Commercials. He was a household name, Dane Motors. Sure the boys went to college. There’s no denying they’re smart. Mark dropped out and went to work with your father. Besides, Carol was pregnant with their first one. Once Shawn graduated he came straight into the business. He met Shannon and well, you know the rest. What you don’t know is that your trust fund is not from your grandfather. It’s your share of the car business. That’s why it keeps growing, not due to investments or to interest. He didn’t completely take the company away from you.
Love,
Your Mother
Baffled by my mother’s words, I sought an escape. I wasn’t ready to make peace with my father. It sounded like she was trying to justify him, his words, and his actions. One distraction needed another; I went to wait for the next possible shock of the day.
Seated in my usual spot before anyone arrived for our meeting, I sipped my coffee and went over key points to be reported. Chairs filled around the table and along one of the conference room walls. As an opener, Suze threw out one of her typical words of the day. “Fraudulent.”
Before I could give my usual interjection, a familiar voice chimed in. “Something we want to avoid at all costs. Even if our clients supply us with the misinformation…”
Turning in my seat toward the orator, I looked straight into the eyes that bore into me just a few weeks ago, intimately. “Like portraying himself as something else?”
“Your rules.” He held my gaze.
Everyone ceased to exist. “Disclosure to unethical practice could be necessary at some point. Maybe best right up front.”
“Your rules.”
I couldn’t just remain silent. I couldn’t just sit quietly, ignoring his presence. No, of course not. I had absolutely no control over the accusing words that began to spill forth from my mouth, rapidly. “Devious. Dirty. Underhanded. Crafty. Unscrupulous. Deceitful. Lyin…”
He cut me off, once again, with simple repetitive words. “Your rules.”
Frustrated, I stood abruptly, slamming my hands on the table to steady my quick movement. “Stop. Stop. Stop saying your rules.” I probably looked like a crazy person. I’m sure I sounded like one. His eyes challenged me. The smirk on his mouth made me want to lunge at him. Him and his damn lips! I could’ve easily swiped that look right off his cocky, beautiful fucking face!
“Excuse me!” Suze pulled up to her feet. “You two, we do have a meeting going on. There are many issues that need to be discussed, besides your lovers’ quarrel.” Pushing her chair in, she walked to the conference room door and stopped to address the room before exiting. “Dash, you continue.” Pointing in my direction, curling her finger. “You! Come with me.”
Slowly gathering my things, I followed her out. On my way, I heard someone snicker under their breath amongst other whispered voices. “Looks like things are about to get interesting around here.”
I trailed behind her with my head down and my shoulders slumped, ashamed. I knew I was about to be disciplined for the childish behavior I had exhibited in front the entire staff. I was wrong. I behaved abominably. I should’ve known better. Once behind the closed doors of Suze’s office, I stood stiffly. She moved around her desk and sat. “Have a seat, Willow.”
Seated directly in front of her, I took a couple deep, calming breaths before I spoke, not waiting for her to reprimand me. “Why the merger?”
She leaned forward, her chin resting on her steepled fingers, she began to speak. “It’s what the associates wanted. It was out of my hand.”
I tilted my head to the side, like a dog hearing something his master said that he didn’t quite understand. “I’m confused. Associates? I thought that title just lumped your employees into the mix.”
Shaking her head. “There are board members behind that word.”
“I thought you owned the company?”
“Yes, I do. But when I started this company, I needed backers. Silent ones, for the most part. They tend to be opinionated at times. When one of them caught wind of a certain hot shot New York PR exec going out on his own—taking his clients with him—they wanted in on his success. Not just any cliental, a phenomenal list of heavy hitters: celebrities and international product lines.” Settled back in her chair, she watched me as I processed all of the information she fed me.
“Dash?”
Nodding. “Yes. He is Oliver Enterprise.”
“Holy shit!” He was such an amazing commodity, the firm he worked for allowed him his own di
vision title. Resigned to the fact, softly I added, “So, he’s not a rockstar-yoga-guru?”
“Well, I wouldn’t discredit that. He’s in hot demand. But, no, that is not his main racket.” I guess he was a bit like her. I had recently spied DJSuze in action; another person in my life with an alter-ego.
“Is he taking over?” I wondered if, at any point, while I was twisted around his body recently, he was actually my boss. “Has he already?”
“No, the same deal I received when I started this firm, will apply. He and I will be equals. Separate, but incorporated. Woodland, Oliver and Associates. I will still be in charge of the same people as before, including you. Everyone will maintain their existing clients.”
“That’s good. I would hate to lose control of my campaigns.” I blew out a long breath. I worked too hard to get where I was within the company.
“What was yours before the merge will remain yours.” Moving forward in her chair, again, looking me in the eye. “However, you will have to play nice. And soon. Pinard Vineyard; he represents them, if you hadn’t figured that out already. I know Skylar’s fashion showroom wants them as a sponsor.”
Things just kept getting better the more I thought about my current situation. Knowing schmoozing him was in the near future. “Yes, I understand.” But I didn’t like it.
“Oh, and…” She paused, changing her expression to something I couldn’t quite define. “Next time we have a staff meeting, please keep your personal life out of the conference room. Seems you both have a love for words. Maybe you could decide beforehand who will be injecting… interjecting.” Suze laughed. I did not see the humor, but managed a phony smile as I exited her office.
Briskly, I moved through the main floor, avoiding eye contact with everyone present. Storming through my office door, I closed and locked it. Hands on my hips, facing out the large glass window, I screamed as low and as loud as I could without anyone hearing me. “Ughhhhh!”
“Are you okay?” A voice questioned me from the left.
Turning my body, I looked at the liar, smiling on my sofa. “What are you doing in here… in my office? I’ve been told it’s still mine,” I challenged him.
He didn’t seem fazed by my stern stance. He remained seated, relaxing into the leather, and crossing his right ankle over his left knee. “I wanted to make sure we were alright?”
My body stiffed more. “We? We? There is no we.”
“We will be working together.” A slight smile was still resting on his handsome face. Damn! Those lips were insane.
“While we may work at the same company—your company—there is no we together.”
I stood firm. He spread his arms out wide along the back of my couch. He appeared to be enjoying himself. “I beg to differ.” The beginnings of a weak grin appeared on his chiseled face. “You need one of my clients; Pinard Vineyard.”
“So. You did know who I was!” I nearly pointed a finger at him, but instead, I folded my hands together in front of me.
“No. I knew of a W. Dane working with a client interested in having my wine company sponsor their event.”
I had to think about what documents he could’ve received. I had not contacted his company. I had sent a few brief notes to a representative at the vineyard in the South of France. How were my business emails addressed?
I changed my line of questioning as I swayed from one leg to the other. Standing with confidence, in high heels, was uncomfortable. “The merger was before the retreat. Surely, you didn’t buy into a company without knowledge of their business dealings, their operation?”
He titled his head, exhibiting a certain smugness. It felt like he was toying with me. I was seeing whole different side of him. “I had no idea about the employees, if that’s what you’re implying,” his answer was evasive.
“You would’ve been given specifics on your new staff: how many, what accounts they handled…” He shook his head and I stopped my sentence.
“I didn’t know about you.” His tone stirred up a mixture of emotion within me.
Deciding to continue my interrogation of him, rather than climb onto his lap, I addressed his lying issue. “You said you were a fucking rockstar-yoga-guru.” The expression on his beautiful face suddenly changed and he looked as if he was about to laugh at me, or lash out. Simmering to a smirk, it was getting to me even more than his voice, but in a whole other direction. Instantly, I felt fired up. It felt like someone had upped the thermostat. “You fucking lied to me.” I didn’t want to lose my cool, but with the additional “fucking” to my sentences, it was evident.
He lowered his foot along with his arms and sat up straighter. “I am a yoga instructor. I never claimed that other title.”
“And I suppose you still had no clue, at the book convention, about me while you were, and I quote, ‘supporting a friend.’ No knowledge?” I lowered my quoting fingers from the air and crossed my arms under my breasts.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a minute. He didn’t look at me. “I was supporting a friend. He happens to be a client now, also. We were checking out the book signing event.” With his head erect again, he turned toward me and rubbed his stubbled chin. “You never mentioned work.”
“I was supporting a friend. She asked me to come along for my opinion about the right target market.”
“And?” his questioning was different. He genuinely sounded interested in hearing my reply.
A bit shaken, baffled, I answered his question with a question. “And what?”
In the same tone as before, what I would call a business tone, he asked, “Was it right for Jewels by Tomasina, our newest signed client? Correction—your newest client.”
“Ha! You did know! And you kept me in the dark… came on to me?”
Suddenly, he was off the sofa. “Let’s get something straight, sweetheart,” his voice changed dramatically, and I had the overwhelming urge to slap his sexy face, but his next words struck me. “You came on to me first.”
“No. I. Did. Not!” I stomped my foot like a child.
He grinned and moved into my personal space. “Let me remind you.” He pulled me close by the hand, wrapped it around his tie, leaned into my neck and licked me. “Ask Thumbelina,” he whispered roughly before removing his breath from my tingling skin.
Drawn back, he looked me in the eye, once again. I was stunned. “What? That was…”
“Me.” He moved out of my reach completely. I missed the closeness. “I couldn’t get you off my mind.”
“You knew me at the resort,” my words were quiet, not frantic as when we began our conversation.
“I had seen you. At the bar that one night. Touched you. Smelled you…” his quiet words matched mine and were affecting my nipples… my panties. “I didn’t know who you were. I wasn’t even sure you were the same woman until I rescued you on the beach. And even then, I didn’t know what you did.”
“You lied. You lead me to believe you were someone else.” I looked straight into the denim-blue eyes that I loved.
He stared back at me. “You made the rules. No details were your two favorite words. I respected your wishes. I wanted you.” His fingers caressed the side of my face. “I did what I needed to do.”
“You’re not my boss,” my voice softened. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
He shook his head. “No.” He took me into his arms. “You did everything right.” Capturing my mouth with his amazingly dark rose, full lips, I surrendered willingly to everything he had to give.
Chapter Eighteen
Dash
I left Willow’s office after bending her over her desk, when I received a page through her intercom. “Mr. Olive, you have a client. A Mr. Holder is waiting in your office.” I thanked her, informing her I would be right there. I also made a mental note to contact our human resources department about replacing that wacky receptionist. She never got my name right no matter how many times I corrected her since I had arrived
. And forget about her getting my clients’ names right. Always on top of my game, I knew all of my clients, so I had no chance of addressing them by the name she gave them. However, new people were being added to my clientele database. I couldn’t afford to look foolish or unprofessional to them.
Unprofessional. What I had just done to Willow in the office was exactly that. Once again, I had lost all of my control with her. Breaking my mouth from hers, I removed my jacket, tossed it on the couch, loosen my tie a bit, and rolled up my sleeves. Back in front of her, I listened to her breathing, watched the rise and fall of her full breasts. Then, I spun her around, folded her body over, lifted her skirt, and slid her sexy, red lace panties to the side. Red. Like her lush lips. I moaned as I plunged into her tight wetness forcefully with my sheathed cock. Over and over, in and out I moved as she pushed back grinding into me. Our rhythm, as always, synchronized. As one, our breaths mingled as our climaxes played out in unison.
We were undeniably a great connection and then we weren’t. Though she may not answer to me directly, she was a subordinate. I was a co-owner of the PR firm. Woodland, Oliver and Associates. My name, my reputation; it could possibly be at stake. How could we work together and play together? I was getting ahead of myself. We had not talked about us. We had just responded to each other physically. We needed to discuss our new development. First, I had a client to attend to. Ha!–Mr. Holder.
In my teakwood accented office, sat Rex on my couch with his computer open on his lap. I closed the door, plopped down next to him, and kicked my feet up onto my coffee table. Leaning my head back, I shut my eyes.
“What’s got you in a funk?” My friend elbowed me in the side of my ribcage.
