Tightwad (Caldwell Brothers Book 2)

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Tightwad (Caldwell Brothers Book 2) Page 22

by Colleen Charles

The makeup refreshed my face, but I was still standing in front of the mirror trying to convince my feet to take me out of the bathroom. My mind raced. If I were successful in negotiations, I would snag a huge bonus and possibly a promotion. Of course, I could always fail. There was always a real possibility I could lose the deal and cost my company millions of dollars of potential lost revenue. That thought made my stomach turn. Nope, not going to throw up.

  Tough. As. Nails.

  I chided myself for even thinking like that. I was not going to fail. I could practically manipulate the actions of the people on the other side of the table. Ten years of experience in negotiating deals will teach you that, and I had put in a lot of hard work to get where I was today. Fourteen hour days, six days a week for years. Drumming my fingers on the marble countertop, I took a deep breath and let it back out. I was determined to go back to the office with a win under my belt.

  The company that I worked for, TriStar Real Estate Investments, owned world-class restaurants, hotels, and office buildings around Atlanta. We were branching out to other states including Florida and North Carolina. I was employed as a real estate agent and it was my job to procure potential investment property to add to our already impressive real estate portfolio. I had ten years under my belt in assisting my boss in negotiating multi-million deals just like this one. It had earned me the nickname The Ashtonator around the office. Like a kick-ass, deal making machine.

  This particular real estate deal included buying a resort hotel and restaurant in Destin, a fairly small tourist town located on the coast of Florida’s panhandle. I had been to Destin before. My parents loved to vacation here, attracted by its clean, emerald waters and sugary white sands. But this time I was here to work. Not to laze around on the beach, sip tropical concoctions, and soak up the sun. Well, maybe later.

  Now, the problem with this deal was a difficult seller. There was a parcel of additional land he owned next to the hotel and restaurant. My boss wanted the vacant land to build a small shopping center to complement the amenities the hotel would offer its guests. The seller, of course, didn’t want to include that land in the deal. It was my job to convince him that it would be in his best interests to include it.

  I was given a number – our highest offer – that I could bring to the table to entice the seller to give us the land. These types of negotiations proved difficult to do over the phone, so Henri sent me, his ace, to Destin to close the deal in person. Lucky me.

  I checked my watch. It was go time. I looked over my lucky red Dolce & Gabana suit – according to my stylist, red was the color of power – that was tailored to fit my athletic frame. I ran a hand down the length of my skirt to smooth out any wrinkles and, checking my watch one last time, pointed into the mirror and in my best Austrian voice mumbled, “I’ll be back.”

  I didn’t want to be late for the meeting, but I certainly didn’t want to be early. This was a mind game I learned from Henri – you always wanted to be the last person to walk into the room, but you couldn’t leave them waiting. If you showed up too early, you gave the other person the power by looking too eager. If you showed up too late, it could cost you their respect. It was a delicate balance, but with practice it became easy to nail.

  My Jimmy Choo heels clicked on the Italian tile floor as I headed out of the restroom and to the lobby. The receptionist told me that everyone was ready and waiting so she led me to the conference room. I blew out one last nervous breath before I waltzed into the room with a confident attitude, destroying the butterflies in my stomach.

  At the head of the conference table sat Mr. Kyle Albertson, the owner of the property. He rose to his feet and shook my hand, which I received with my trademark photogenic smile. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, he turned to introduce the other man in the room. I didn’t pay much attention to him at first, but when I did, my heart stopped.

  Literally skipped multiple beats until I felt a whoosh as my blood rushed to catch up.

  No fucking way.

  My mind defaulted to the worst possible scenario. I was being set up. This was a cruel joke. Why else would Quinn fucking Andrews be in the same room as my difficult client, Mr. Albertson? I looked around the room for hidden cameras, waiting for my older brother, Griffin, to spring up from his hiding place and yell “Gotcha!”

  Instead, Mr. Albertson simply laid his hand on my arm and asked with concern in his voice, “Are you okay, Miss Jansen?”

  “I thought I saw a ghost,” I whispered.

  Once I regained my composure, I nodded to reassure the man before he thought I’d gone bat-shit crazy and tanked the pending negotiations. Quinn walked over to me and held out a hand. My entire body was numb, but I managed to stuff my clammy hand in his and shake it.

  “Ashton Jansen,” I squeaked.

  Quinn, however, was unfazed. He turned his attention to Mr. Albertson and said, with what I swore was a stifled chuckle.

  “Miss Jansen and I have known each other since we were kids. I don’t think she was expecting to see an old friend today. Hence, the startled reaction.”

  What? I didn’t need him to protect or defend me.

  “You’re…” I couldn’t finish my sentence.

  My mind was still in denial that my childhood crush, the guy who took my virginity and trampled my heart, all in the same night, stood before me like some kind of unwelcome blast from the past. I had skillfully avoided this guy for ten years, which had been a difficult task since our families still stayed in touch.

  It took great effort on my part to ignore anything that had to do with Quinn. Every time there was an event for my family to attend that involved even the most remote possibility of running into Quinn, I had an out. An ironclad excuse. Yet here was proof that I couldn’t outrun him forever.

  “My law firm is representing Mr. Albertson in the deal,” he said.

  Was he talking to me? His eyes darted around the room but never settled anywhere long enough for me to know for sure.

  I’d heard from my mother that Quinn had gone to Harvard Law and then passed the bar exam with flying colors. Always the triple threat. Good looking, smart and charming. Except when he lied like the fucking dog he was. The part she’d neglected to tell me was that he’d moved to Florida.

  Quinn Andrews. Bastard extraordinaire. Debaucher of virgins and breaker of fragile hearts. One thing I could say for sure about Quinn, he still looked hot enough to make my heart go pitter-patter. Which pissed me off so badly steam started to rise off my pasty white skin.

  His eyes were still ice blue, and his dimples had not lost their ability to melt a girl’s heart when he smiled. Except this particular girl now had a brick wall around hers that rivaled the work of a thousand masons. He’d finally cut his long hair, but there was still enough to thread my fingers through. Those Benedict Arnold fingers twitched at the very thought. I shook my head to eradicate it.

  Quinn fucking Andrews. Girls in high school compared him to a younger Matthew McConaughey. I could definitely see the resemblance now, especially with the addition of a barrel chest and a five o’clock shadow. He was dressed in a dark grey suit that accentuated his intense eyes. How was it that ten years had gone by and he was somehow even more gorgeous? Why couldn’t he have stress induced dark circles or a beer gut? Time had been good to him. Too good.

  Christ. I really never wanted to see Quinn ever again. Not many women would want to see the man who took their virginity and skipped town, never even saying goodbye. Quinn knew how much he had meant to me. I’d been chasing him around the schoolyard since I was ten years old. When I was sixteen, he’d finally taken notice of me. My every fantasy had been fulfilled when he took my hand and led me upstairs to make love to me. It may have been brief, but that one unforgettable night changed everything. Because I hadn’t repeated it since.

  At first my urge was to slap him, instead I shook his hand and ignored the jolt of electricity between us. Lucky break for him. This meeting was important for both of us. I needed to
deal with the situation with grace and confidence, even if those feelings were scarce at this moment. A smile and a handshake and a sad attempt at clearing my head. But all I could think about was Quinn sliding his cock inside of me. That long, thick, gorgeous cock that felt so good …

  “If you’ll excuse me, Miss Jansen. I have a meeting, but Quinn will handle working the deal for us. I trust him with this particular piece of business.” Mr. Albertson excused himself from the room, leaving me all alone with my childhood crush. Dear God, help me now.

  No. No. No.

  “Ashton,” Quinn said with a slow, smug smile. He said my name with the same throaty drawl he used the night we’d been burning up the sheets.

  Dammit! Focus, Ashton, focus!

  “What?” I said.

  Pathetic. I am a wretched loser prostrating myself at the altar of a reprobate. Remember what he did to you, Ashton. Remember how he broke your heart so badly you’ve never gotten over it.

  Quinn laughed. He held a chair out for me and said, “Have a seat.”

  I had to get it together. The fact that the other negotiator was Quinn Andrews didn’t change anything on my end. I still had a deal to make. All I had to do was repress our horrible…sexy…past.

  Chapter Two

  Quinn

  You can’t really stop your mind from wandering when an old flame walks back into your life. The swell of a breast, the curve of a hip. Especially when that old flame is even hotter than before.

  Ashton had gorgeous eyes made of liquid gold. That killer body hadn’t changed at all. Ample chest and an ass that was round and plump. A tiny waist made for grabbing as he pounded into her from behind. Except. They’d never gotten to round two.

  Long, curly blonde hair fell down past her shoulders, and I dreamed of wrapping my fingers tight around those gorgeous locks and pulling. Yanking hard until she screamed my name out as a throaty expletive past her lush lips.

  She strode into the room with purpose, which made me stop and pay close attention. I could be in trouble here. Because she had me rattled, and Quinn Andrews didn’t get rattled. Especially not before the deal of a lifetime.

  I wished I could take the time to explain to her what happened that night so long ago. I wanted to make things right between us. But how on earth could I explain ten years of silence? To a woman who’d never been able to hide her emotions? Too much time had passed to make amends. And I’d done things. Things I would take to the grave as shameful regrets. Because I should’ve never run away from my problems.

  It wasn’t that I’d been hiding from her, unable to eat crow. For ten years, she’d eluded me. Denying me the opportunity to cleanse my soul. I thought I’d have my golden chance to redeem myself when my sister Caroline got married. Unsurprisingly, Ashton didn’t even show up for her friend’s wedding. I’d almost begged Caroline to invite her to participate in the wedding party since she’d known Ashton since childhood.

  She probably thought I had used her, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. The guilt of taking her virginity and then running away had niggled at my conscience with every encounter. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about it and find myself lacking.

  Now that she was finally in the same room with me, I didn’t know where to begin. So I pretended her mere presence wasn’t affecting me more deeply than I’d been affected since the last time I’d seen her. Felt her. Traced my fingertips all over her silky skin that still burned my memory. Her smell that still tickled my nostrils.

  I knew this wasn’t the time or place to bring up the hurtful past we both shared. As soon as this deal was put to bed, I was going to have my opportunity. And I wouldn’t fuck it up this time.

  I’d been following Ashton’s career since she’d graduated from college. Stanford. With an honors degree in Marketing and a graduate degree in Leadership. I knew she worked for a real estate developer. As soon I’d heard that her boss was looking for opportunities in Destin, I pulled some strings to get our properties in front of her business.

  Patience was something I had been born with. Like my long-suffering mother had always told me, it was a virtue. So it had only been a matter of time before the stars aligned and our paths crossed. So maybe I’d re-arranged the stars in my favor. I prided myself on being a legal bad-ass. Sue me.

  Many buyers wanted a shot at purchasing Mr. Albertson’s hotel and restaurant, but I pulled every string in the loom to make sure Ashton’s offer was at the top of the pile.

  Ashton folded her hands together and laid them on the table. They remained steady, but she seemed to have forgotten how well I knew her. The eyes were the windows to the soul and her gorgeous eyes stared at mine. And they betrayed her.

  “Our offer is for the restaurant, hotel, as well as the vacant land adjacent to the hotel. I think you’ll find the numbers are satisfactory.” She pulled a sheet of paper out of her briefcase and slid it over the table.

  I didn’t bother to pick up the paper. “The lot is not for sale.”

  This deal was vital to my client and making my client money was of the upmost importance of the firm, but I also had a very selfish reason to dig in my heels. I wanted to keep Ashton on the hook. My client wasn’t too keen on selling the land, anyway. He wanted to keep the piece of the land for his grandkids’ trust. So I had to tread lightly.

  “No deal under those terms,” I repeated.

  A flash of disappointment crossed Ashton’s face, but she recovered quickly. She rifled through her briefcase and I could tell that she was rattled. Either by the surprise of seeing me or by the lack of a counter offer, I seemed to have ruffled her feathers. I braced myself, hoping I hadn’t gone too far. I wanted to protect Mr. Albertson, but I had to admit that protecting myself, and my personal goals, was slightly more important.

  For a second there, I thought Ashton would walk out the door. Flee the deal. And me. She’d been eluding me for ten years. How long would she be willing to sit in the same room with me when she wasn’t getting her immediate way? What I did know about Ashton was that she was the kind of woman that didn’t give up. She wasn’t a quitter. She went after what she wanted and she got it. Wrangled it to the ground like a rodeo cowboy. Ever since we were kids she’d been that way. So, I was betting on her to stay, to start swinging her lasso and put up a one hell of a fight. My cock twitched in my pants just thinking about it.

  Ashton cleared her throat. “I understand your client’s position and that he wants to hang on to the land for personal reasons. We have a solution I think you’ll be pleased with.” She showed me another slip of paper and that megawatt smile she was famous for. “My client has a fantastic piece of gulf front property that he’s willing to trade for the lot. It would be a far more lucrative investment for Mr. Albertson. Especially, if he’s putting this real estate investment in trust for his minor grandchildren.”

  This was definitely unexpected. She had done her homework and now dangled the one carrot in front of Mr. Albertson that he’d probably grab with both hands. Lots as scenic and clean as the one she’d just pushed in front of my face were few and far between in this small coastal town. There was plenty of land to be had inland, but they didn’t make sand anymore. Beachfront lots were being sold at a premium price right now.

  I took a peek at the paper. A prime location and one I’d already tried to broker a deal on but had failed. Now I knew why. I turned over the other piece of paper that contained the offer. It wasn’t a bad deal, but any good lawyer new to always refuse the first offer. It was simply a jumping off point.

  When I negotiated, I went straight for what really mattered. It was a tactic that had gotten me from associate to partner in record-breaking time. I tapped the table in front of me for emphasis while I ignored the annoying swelling in my pants as I watched her full lips pursed in concentration. Another fantasy that had never played out anywhere other than in my warped mind. Ashton’s lush lips wrapped around my cock as she sucked it down the back of her throat.

  I shook my h
ead to release the inappropriate thoughts. “You want a piece of valuable commercial property, and you want it as cheap as you can get it. My client isn’t willing to give up the land, too. However, the trade is very interesting. I think the price on hotel and restaurant could be a little higher to justify the trade.”

  Ashton was nervous. I could tell by the way she licked her lips. Those beautiful luscious lips that kept drawing my sexual attention and fueling my lust to a fever pitch. Or maybe she was just stalling. Her cheeks were flushed as she studied me with interest. Had she been traveling an equally racy trip down memory lane or was it just nerves over the deal? I knitted my fingers together and leaned forward, waiting for her rebuttal.

  She responded by pushing her chair back. “Look, I’m not going to keep haggling over a few dollars. Tell me what you want for it all: the restaurant, the hotel, and the vacant lot. I am not walking out of here without everything. It’s all three, or no deal. I need a number so I can determine if we can make it work.”

  “That number is four-point-nine million,” I said, watching for her reaction. “That’s for everything, including the land trade.”

  “Four point five, not a penny more,” Ashton quickly countered.

  I wondered if that was really how high her client authorized her to go.

  “Quinn…Not a penny more,” she reiterated. “Four. Point. Five.”

  The way my name rolled off her tongue with such authority gave me a little push. I wanted her to say my name over and over as I made her come all over my fingers, my tongue and my cock. Fuck, I loved negotiating with this woman so much it could become a habit. It could become foreplay. How far could I push her buttons?

  “Four point seven and we have a deal.” I was into it now and I hadn’t been this hard since I was a teenager. Good thing I didn’t have to stand. There was definitely a date with my right hand in the immediate future. I’d picture Ashton with a contract in one hand and her panties in the other.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “We don’t want it that bad.”

 

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