His evasion did not help me feel any better. “How long?”
He sank down on the bed next to me, then leaned over and rested his forehead on mine. “Forever,” he said fervently. “And nobody would tell me anything for the longest time. The police finally convinced them that I had saved you from the woman who injured you, so they let me in. Plus, your aunt vouched for me. I didn’t know she knew me.”
“I have told one of my aunts about you. I’d wanted to share it with someone in my family, and she’d happened to message me on one of my days off on that paid vacation.”
“I’m glad you did. I don’t know what I’d done if they’d not let me stay.”
I smiled, or rather tried to. “You’d have found a way,” I said, feeling slightly better since having water. “I take it you don’t know the time.”
“I don’t remember. I’ve never been so scared in my life. You passed out with blood pooling around you. Don’t ever do that to me again. That’s an order.”
A dry laugh croaked out. “I’ll make an effort.”
“You’d better.”
After a few minutes of him hugging me, followed by a long time of nurses and doctors and meds, we finally had a chance to speak again. He caught me up on Kim’s situation—in jail, no one posting her bail—and told me that the private security firm he’d hired had found three more people involved. My heart broke for him. His own business. I knew him well enough that he’d take this personally and try to find a way to eliminate the possibility of it happening again.
I patted the bed beside me, scooting over to give him more room.
“Fiona,” he said, taking my hand in his.
“Yes?”
“Move in with me. I have a place big enough. I can have you cared for round the clock until you’ve regained use of your arm.”
I raised my brows at him. “I have one question. Think carefully before you answer.”
He nodded and squeezed my hand tighter. “Are you just doing this because you feel guilty? Because of pity? Okay, make that two questions.”
He paled. “No. I do feel guilty that I didn’t protect you more. I was trying to give you your space and respect your wish to be back at work. I should have insisted that you moved in me as soon as it became apparent the lengths they would go through in order to protect their interests. I should have kept you in my office and put a guard on you. I should have—”
“Shhh,” I said. “You couldn’t have known this would happen. It’s a freak accident. If she hadn’t hit me just right, I wouldn’t have gone over like I did, which is how I broke my arm so badly.”
He nodded but still stared at me, waiting for an answer, I think.
“Wait, you wanted me to move in with you before?” My mind spun at the implications.
“After our weekend at the ocean,” he confirmed. “I love you, but I didn’t want to scare you off by forcing too much of a commitment that soon. So, what’s your answer?”
I grinned. Maybe the meds the nurse gave me were kicking in, maybe I was just crazy. “Yes, I will.”
He leaned over and kissed me, and I poured all the love I felt into it. My future had just become brighter than I could have imagined.
Acknowledgments
Thanks goes out to Staci Perkins and Ember Leigh for being awesome betas. To my editor, who wasn’t given nearly enough time with the finished product, Ishabelle Torry, you are the best.
About the Author
Leona Bushman is a crazy writer taught by dragons and known as Dragon Queen of the North. She loves to write and paint, even when her muse tries to muck things up. She chases after the three out of the five children still at home, and sometimes after the other two and the grandbaby around her freelance editing jobs. She has many hobbies like SCA, painting, quilting, sewing, and gardening. Or, as one blogger succinctly put it, Leona Bushman is a whirlwind made of sheer will with a dash of clumsy to keep her grounded.
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She can be found solving mysteries, exploring space, making art, and loving dragons and other creatures of the supernatural at these places:
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Website: www.leonajbushman.com
Blog: www.lbushman.blogspot.com and www.lbushman.wordpress.com
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Claiming the East
Camille Oster
Copyright ©2018 Camille Oster
All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the work of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Claiming the East
This month-long assignment in the crazy, never-sleeping and vibrant city of Hong Kong is really a job interview, and Mercy Wright is intent of taking the prize from the other person in line for it, Lukas Heimer from the Frankfurt office. Lukas—annoying, rude, and a clean-freak to the point of being anally retentive. It was going to be a pleasure to leave him in the dust. No mercy.
1
STEPPING OUT OF THE taxi, Mercy's ankle gave as she stepped on a crack in the concrete, and her umbrella wouldn't unfold fast enough, letting drops of rain soak into the shoulders of her jacket. It was surprisingly cool; she'd expected Hong Kong to be warm. Time spent backpacking around Thailand and Vietnam had ingrained in her that Asia was warm, but here, it was actually cool.
There was a jackhammer somewhere down the street and every sign around her had Chinese characters—Cantonese is what they spoke here, apparently.
Looking up, the building she stood in front of stretched up to the sky. This was her office for the next month or so. Hopefully for much longer than that. This was a job interview—a really long one. It wasn't explicitly stated, but they were being tried out for 'international experience,' was what Peggy had said, their local HR manager back in the LA office. She'd effectively said it was a job interview, but they couldn't say that because it wouldn’t strictly be legal. Well, not so much an issue for her, but for her competitor in this thing, Lukas Heimer, who came from the Frankfurt office where they had uber-strict labor laws.
Her rolling bag made noises over the uneven sidewalk and into the slick, marble-covered lobby. A pretty Chinese girl sat at the reception desk, watching as she approached. There were barriers to get to the elevators and she needed a swipe card.
"Hi, I'm Mercedes Wright," Mercy said with a smile. Everyone called her Mercy and she preferred it that way, but whenever HR sent along her details, it was always Mercedes.
The girl typed away and then swiped a little machine before giving her a card. "Seventeenth floor. They are expecting you."
"Thanks," Mercy said as she took the card and made her way through the barriers.
The elevator was mirrored and Mercy checked her hair. She looked okay. Say what you want about the cost, but flying business class was wonderful. She'd slept—somewhat. Now she had a long day ahead of her, but she was tired.
A woman was waiting for her and smiled as soon as the door opened. "Jasmine," she said. "You must be Mercy. I am Mr. Holland's assistant, and any questions you have, you can come to me."
"Oh, okay. Thanks."
"The woman led the way through an open plan floor with glass enclosed offices and meeting rooms around the exterior. It was a typical office. Everything was in muted greys and purples. A nice space.
The view, however, when she walked past a large meeting room was awe-inspiring. The whole of Hong Kong harbor, a landscape of silver and blues. Ferries ran across the water, and even some of the old-time Junk boats that were probably put there for tourists. It didn't matter. It was romantic and exotic in Mercy's eyes. She was in Hong Kong. That was crazy.
"So you are in here. Pick any spare desk," Jasmine said. "Mr. Holland will have a meeting at three in the Fanling meeting room.”
"Great," Mercy said and walked into her assigned room. The t
wo best desks were already taken, so Mercy had to pick one that faced the wall rather than the spectacular view of the harbor.
Pulling out her laptop, she went to plug it in when she saw that there was no way her American plug was going to fit into the socket. Why hadn't it occurred to her that she needed a power adapter? She'd thought of everything else, carefully picking shampoos and clothes to travel with, but completely blanked on the power plug—which was effectively the most important thing.
"Uhm," she said and looked around, but Jasmine was long gone. The battery would have to do for now until she could sort herself an adapter.
"Hello," a guy said as he walked into the room and saw her. He'd taken one of the nice desks with a lovely view. "I am Lukas, and you are?" He spoke with an accent, moving over to her with an outstretched hand. So this was her competitor, the German. Fitted suit, nice shoes. He knew what he was doing in a department store.
"Mercy," she said and stood to shake his hand. It was firm and warm.
"Mercedes Wright. You are named after a car," he said as he moved away and put his coffee cup down on his desk.
"Actually, it's Spanish. Means mercy—plural, but I prefer the singular," she said, sitting down again with her back turned to him.
"So not after your parents' aspirations?"
"No, they buy American," she said with a singing voice. They didn't, but she wasn't going to say that. What a dick thing to say, she thought. She'd never dealt with him in the past, but one of her colleagues had, who had said he had no sense of humor. Not much for charm either, it would seem.
Mercy already knew she wasn't going to like him, and not just for the fact that they were in the running for the same job.
"I arrived two days ago," he said.
It's not a competition, she wanted to snap. Well, in a way it was, but they weren't going to be judged on how long they'd been here. "That's nice."
"If you want to know where anything is, please ask."
"Thanks," she said sweetly. That was gonna happen, she thought sarcastically.
Maybe she was being ungenerous. This could be culture clash in action, or else he was just socially awkward. Good chance, she thought. All the better for this job being hers at the end of the month.
Losing herself in her emails, she forgot about him. Then moved onto her social channels. Being here, she was going to miss her best friend's birthday and had already apologized profusely, even as Chrissy completely understood. Well, if she got this job, she was going to miss a lot more than her birthday, but this was the opportunity of a lifetime. It would provide her with a career development shortcut that she wouldn't get staying back in the LA office.
"Meetings on now," Lukas said from the door and Mercy stared at him, having no idea what he was talking about, until she remembered Jasmine mentioning a meeting with Mr. Holland.
"Yes, of course," Mercy said, grabbing her notebook. Luckily, she could follow Lukas, who seemed to know where he was going.
Lukas had dressed down to his grey pants and a white shirt, a black belt sitting on his hips. He was by no means unfit and his hair was longer on top than on the sides. Light brown. For a German, he was surprisingly tanned. Wasn't it winter over there?
They reached a glass room. The view was of another office building, so not as spectacular as the other meeting room she had seen, or even their office.
There was a whole team of people in there, so this wasn't just about her and Lukas. Once everyone was seated, a man dressed in a navy suit came in, whom Mercy knew was Mr. Holland. She had seen him in a meeting once in LA. About forty and looked very serious.
They sold analytical systems and this office covered the whole of the Asian region, including China, which was a massive growth market. Mercy wasn't on the technical side of things, had worked in marketing and sales. In all honesty, she didn't fully understand how the systems worked. There were big data and real-time analytics—all the cool buzzwords. She did get the power of what these systems could do, and all sorts of industries were investing in them. They were a strong company, but so were their competitors.
"So, we are here to talk about the resource management across the new airports in China," Mr. Holland said. "A tender is coming out at the end of the month. And in light of all the work we have to do, we have some extra assistance from Lukas Heimer from the Frankfurt office, and Mercedes Wright from Los Angeles. I am sure you will all endeavor to make them feel comfortable.”
There was a number of nationalities sitting in the room. Half appeared to be from here, while there were also others, including one who had an inordinate amount of piercings. That wouldn't be allowed everywhere, and would be strictly discouraged in her office, but things were perhaps different here, or the girl with all the piercings was a specialist in something and could dress as she damned well pleased. Even in Mercy’s office, specialists were wrapped in cotton wool. But basically, their company was literally the United Nations.
The meeting went on to discuss some of the timeline details and milestones that had to be reached. Mercy recorded everything that might be relevant. Projects like this were always a tsunami of information at the start, before she could tease out what was relevant and not to her job within the team.
And then it was over and Mercy still didn't have a clue what she was supposed to do. Also her energy was flagging so she didn't care. It was something she would determine tomorrow, even if she had to go knock on Mr. Holland's office door. It was best to go get the true story about these things rather than to guess. That she had learnt in her time in the company.
Running after Jasmine, she queried after a power plug and the woman promised one would be brought to her.
Returning to her desk, she saw that it was only four-thirty, but she was too tired to do any actual work. And the laptop was going to run out of battery any minute. Should she go to the hotel or grit it out until five thirty?
Lukas had returned to his desk and was now absorbed in his work. Like hell was she going to ask him. Perhaps she should just go. It had been a long day and travel really took it out of you. Decision made, she started to pack up. She would make it up in the morning by arriving early.
2
MERCY SLEPT LIKE THE dead. The drapes blocked out everything and her exhausted body embraced the lovely hotel bed. Waking, she had no idea where she was for a moment and had to stumble her way to the curtains. Again, there was that lovely harbor and she reveled in it for a moment, not really believing she was actually in Hong Kong, and would be for a whole month.
Still, she couldn't dawdle. She'd left work early yesterday and had to get a head start on the day. Although not exactly knowing what she would be doing, this project was going to keep her really busy. First thing was to get a handle on her task and that wasn't something she could do until Mr. Holland arrived. If he was an early or late arriver, she didn't know.
In the bathroom, her toiletries were strewn across the counter. She lived orderly—sometimes. Clutter did tend to build up invariably, and people could deal with the fact. It felt like a constant battle, her mind being drawn to more interesting things.
A quick shower had her ready to face the day—except she didn't know exactly where the hotel was in relation to the office. Apparently, it was within walking distance. Standing in her skirt suit and heels, she searched through the maps on her phone until she had the direction she needed.
The streets were bustling and noisy when she made her way outside. Even in the morning, without the bright neon lights, this city was an explosion of color. That explosion of seemingly everything at once, so it was a bit overwhelming for a moment. Signs and advertisement covered every available space, showing large Chinese characters in blocky fonts, sometimes with small English translations underneath. The traffic also had a disorderly edge. Double-decker buses ran along the streets and endless taxis, jostling for position.
Along the walk were stores she had never seen and restaurants full of people, even in the morning. Lit billboards in the st
ores showed pretty Chinese girls, all dressed in clothes that looked to be in impossibly small sizes. There were people everywhere and she tried to watch where she was going while at the same time checking the map on her phone. Intermittently looking up at the skyscrapers, trying to see any familiarity with the building she had been in the previous day.
She didn't recognize her office building until she literally stumbled onto it. Here she was; it wasn't too bad a route. It felt a little like an obstacle course, and there was so much life, so much to look at during such a short walk. She'd barely been able to take any of it in.
The office was just about empty when she arrived, only one person sitting inside their glass office. She had no idea who they were and they didn't look up.
Dropping her computer bag off, she made her way to the kitchenette and made a coffee. By the time she got back to her desk, Lukas was walking in, wearing a black, fitted suit. His hair was neatly combed and still wet.
"You shouldn't have bothered coming," he said as he sat down at his computer. "This job is mine. Don't get used to staying."
Okay, Mercy said to herself as she sat down with her back to him. "If you say so," she said, unconvinced.
Getting up, he left the office, the atmosphere immediately feeling lighter. That heaviness had been there yesterday too. He was just a joy to people around him, wasn't he? Well, she didn't get scared off by bully boys, and she didn't buy their bullshit either. Proof was in the pudding, as they said, and he would have to prove he had some skills first.
A couple of minutes later, he returned with a cup of coffee. "You ever worked in Asia before?" he asked.
Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection Page 99
