by Holly Rayner
Instead, she was about to barge in and make her demands without preamble.
It was entirely out of character for her. Marianne swallowed and fought the shaking in her knees as she strolled past several offices before she reached the far corner. There was indeed a plaque that simply read, Jay Parish, CEO.
The door was closed.
Marianne placed her fingers on the handle and closed her eyes, taking a breath, and then she turned it and stepped inside.
The office was bright. There were floor-to-ceiling windows all around, and Marianne felt as though she were standing on top of the city. Benson Park stretched out almost as far as she could see, and beyond that, she could actually see the tops of the buildings around them.
She turned her focus to the inner office.
A large desk stood at the center of the room, and it was an absolute mess. There were papers strewn about everywhere. Books were stacked haphazardly on a couple of shelves along the wall.
Then, Marianne’s gaze collided with a bright, azure pair of eyes, and her breath caught in her throat.
Jay Parish.
He was nothing like she’d imagined. She always thought he would be some prissy, out-of-state-educated rich boy with a popped collar and slacks. Instead, the man before her was broad-shouldered. He wore a white collared shirt, yes, but it was wrinkled, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as though he were a working man. He sat back a bit from his desk, allowing Marianne a view of a rather casual pair of jeans, which she found curious.
What CEO wore jeans to the office?
The most startling part about him was his face, though. His chin was chiseled at a perfect angle, his hair was the color of corn in summer. His stubble was getting long enough to be a beard, soon, and the shadow of it enhanced the exhaustion in his eyes. He looked like a cowboy, which made him seem so out of place in this posh office setting.
As she took all of this in, she realized that she was staring. She blinked.
“Um, hi,” she said.
Great start.
“Hello,” he replied.
His voice had a gravelly sense to it, like he hadn’t spoken in a long time. It sounded like a creaky door that needed some grease.
Marianne stood, wringing her hands together as she stared at him, completely frozen. This man was her absolute enemy—someone she despised! He was also her employer, and, much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was drop-dead gorgeous.
How completely unfair!
“Do I know you?” he asked.
“Oh. No. I mean, maybe. I work here.”
There was the faintest hint of a smile that tugged the corner of his perfect lip, and Marianne realized she was losing ground, fast.
Where was the confident stride she’d had before? How did she get that back?
“I assumed as much, since you know how to find me,” he said.
“Yes, well. My name is Marianne Lawson, and I work in the accounting department,” she said.
At the mention of accounting, Jay’s expression faltered, but he kept a level gaze on hers. She held it, afraid to fall into those depths, but equally scared to look away.
She couldn’t blow this!
“It’s nice to meet you, Marianne Lawson. Would you like to take a seat?”
There was a plush chair in front of the desk, and Marianne slid into it, grateful. Her knees were still shaking, and she hoped against hope that he didn’t notice.
“Thank you,” she said.
She had such a great speech prepared. She was going to really give it to him good, and he was supposed to be reeling from her honesty and courage in speaking truth to power.
Now, where were those words?
The silence stretched as Jay simply sat in his chair and waited for her to get to the point of her appointment. The ball was very clearly in her court, so Marianne took a breath, thought about Zoe and dove in.
“Mr. Parish,” she said.
“Jay,” he countered.
“What?” she asked.
“You can call me Jay. I don’t like it when people are so formal.”
“You’re the CEO of the biggest company in town. Isn’t formality respectful?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“I would think that addressing someone the way they ask to be addressed is the most respectful, but everyone around me seems to disagree.”
He was so surprising! He seemed almost…laid back. When Marianne considered the hardship she was enduring while he could simply lean back in his chair and make idle chat about nothing, her resolve steeled.
“Well, Mr. Parish,” she said, unwilling to cave to his request.
She had to remember her place, here. Jay Parish wasn’t a good person. He was taking advantage of people. He was making them suffer. He owed her and her family.
“I have come here today because I would like to secure a loan from you. An advance payment, if you will.”
Jay stared at her, those piercing blue eyes cutting right through to her soul. She was ready to launch into her story about how the loan would help her family, how it could directly impact the people he had harmed. Jay held up a hand and reached into a side drawer. In a flash he had a checkbook out. He flipped to a fresh check and reached for a pen, then looked back up at her.
“How much do you want?” he asked.
She stared at him, once again stunned into silence.
“I’m sorry…what?” she said.
“I said, how much do you want?” he said.
His tone was empty of emotion. This was nothing to him. Marianne how no idea how much to request. What would be too much? She considered what amount could keep them afloat for a few more months that wouldn’t shock the man.
Was he even capable of being shocked by requests for money?
“Ten thousand,” she said.
She tried her best to sound confident. He gave one nod, wrote the amount onto the check, signed it, and held it out to her.
Was that really it?
“Was there anything else you need today, Ms. Lawson?”
Marianne’s fingers trembled as she plucked the check from his hand, careful not to touch him as she did. She didn’t want him to feel her nerves, which were pulsing through her to a point where she was starting to feel faint.
“That was all,” she said.
“Great.”
She stared at him again for a moment, completely mesmerized by his face. By his quick generosity.
“Um, thank you,” she said.
“Yep,” he replied.
He turned his attention toward a laptop on his desk, effectively dismissing her. Marianne lingered for a moment longer, then, when it was clear he had no intention of acknowledging her further, she stood and exited the office, sliding the check into a skirt pocket as she headed back toward the elevator.
“Good meeting?” Jeff asked as she passed his desk.
Marianne nodded, trying not to look as befuddled as she felt.
“He wasn’t what I expected,” she said.
Jeff shrugged. “As I told you before, it’s been a hard couple of months.”
“Not that hard,” Marianne mumbled, thinking of just how quickly the man could part with ten thousand dollars.
“Quite. I’ll see you at the next meeting,” she said more audibly.
“Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything!”
Marianne pressed the elevator button, and to her relief, a door opened up instantly. She stepped in and pressed the button for her floor, far below, and when the elevator doors closed, she pulled the check back out and stared at it.
It was real. He really just gave her ten grand without a second thought. On one hand, the anger when she thought of him still boiled in her blood. Clearly, he wasn’t struggling that much to be able to do such a thing, so why was he letting his workers suffer like he was? On the other hand…
Marianne had just been handed a lifeline. It was more than enough money to keep her family safe while she kept working, and
a huge weight lifted from her shoulders as she thought about adding this to the bank. Paying every overdue bill sitting on her desk.
She decided to focus on the positive.
As Marianne struggled with her conflicting emotions, she turned her thoughts to getting Zoe a little stuffed animal on the way home from work, and she smiled.
It had been so long since she’d been able to get something as trifling as a toy for her daughter.
She would thank Jay Parish for that, if nothing else. The man was a strange one, to be sure.
Chapter 4
Jay
Jay tapped out a beat with his fingertips on his desk as he stared at the glowing screen before him, seeing absolutely nothing.
There were numbers on that screen. Facts, figures, and data. Things he needed to focus on if he wanted to keep his company afloat among the turmoil it was currently facing.
A pair of moss-green eyes danced across mind’s eye, and he blinked.
Marianne Lawson.
He’d never seen or met her before; he was certain. It felt wrong, somehow, but how could he possibly know every single employee under his management? That’s what middle managers were for.
There was something she hadn’t said. He was sure of it. She was shaking like a leaf when she’d walked in, completely unannounced. Her brown hair was perfectly smooth in its professional, chic chignon. Her eyes were mesmerizing. He’d never seen such a color as green as that.
Then again, he hadn’t been dating much, either.
Jay rubbed his eyes with the base of his palms. He was losing control. Again. He needed to get out.
Again.
This was becoming a terrible pattern, but he couldn’t help it. He was having an existential crisis! He had no sense of self, no sense of direction, and the only people that could have offered guidance were resting in their graves at the family estate.
Jay’s chair shot back as he stood and headed right for the door. He closed it behind him and stalked past Jeff.
“I’m going out for the rest of the afternoon. Please reschedule the rest of my appointments for the day.”
“Sir? Is everything okay?”
“Just dandy,” Jay huffed.
Once again, he opened the door to the stairwell, and in his usual way he plummeted down the length of the building, allowing his adrenaline to push him faster, harder, as though he were falling down each set of stairs and not sprinting.
That was how he felt. Like he was falling, tumbling through space with nowhere to go and nothing in sight.
Except those eyes.
Jay stopped, his feet pounding against the cement floor on the bottom level, and he gazed out into space.
What was it about that woman that was so haunting? He didn’t even know what she did, did he? He didn’t bother to ask.
What a selfish man Jay Parish had become. One only needed to read the papers to truly understand the depth of his villainy. Jay pulled out his cell phone and tapped a number as he turned toward the parking garage and made his way to his slick black classic muscle car.
“Financial Security Investigative Unit, how may I direct your call?” a woman said in a bright voice.
“It’s Jay Parish,” he said.
“Oh, Mr. Parish,” she said, her tone instantly cautious, “I’ll put you through straight away.”
The line went quiet for a moment, then a man answered.
“Harry Spitzer here.”
“Harry,” Jay said.
“Jay,” Harry replied, his tone weary. “Always nice to get your daily call.”
“These will end when you give me some answers, Harry.”
“Jay, this department is a governmental body. You as the CEO cannot be involved in this investigation in any way. I tell you this every time you call, and yet you persist.”
“People are suffering, Harry.”
“Yes, I am well aware of that. And we are moving as fast as we can to figure out the cause of the issue and bring justice where it is due. I would remind you that you may very well be the one that will pay the price, Jay.”
“Yes, I am well aware of that,” Jay said, mimicking Harry’s words. “I’d like to know if I’m losing my company, my credibility, both, or neither. We have several outside financial entities that dealt with the 401(k) money, you know.”
“Yes. I know. Because I’m the head of the team investigating it,” Harry said.
There was a pause, then Harry sighed.
“Mr. Parish, if you call this line again, I am going to have to consider placing a restraint on you. This is highly untoward, and it could look bad on you later to have so many calls into the office. There is an…implication of guilt.”
“Do you think I’m guilty?” Jay asked.
“I’m not paid to have opinions. I’m paid to get the facts.”
“Then get them, Harry.”
“Stop calling and wasting my time, and this might go as fast as you want it to,” Harry spat. “Good day, Mr. Parish.”
He hung up, then, leaving Jay standing at his car in shock. All his life, Jay had been taught that with enough hard work and the right connections, anything was possible. Jay was nothing if not connected, but for the first time in his life, he felt so…powerless.
It did not sit well.
Jay tossed open the driver’s side door and slid in, revving the engine as he skidded out of the garage. It felt good to have so much power beneath him, something he could have control over. He sped through city streets until he reached the highway and raced at a very dangerous speed out of town. The wheels screeched as he pulled off on his exit and drove through winding, hilly roads. He turned onto the hidden drive that led to a double-gated entrance and tapped in the code to open the doors.
Cast-iron gates split to reveal a sprawling white mansion, complete with acres and acres of lush green land all around. It was a hidden paradise, where no one could find him, and it was where he’d spent most of his time since the financial crash. The muscle car spit up pebbles as he skidded to a halt right at the front door. His house manager, Logan, bustled from the front entrance, and Jay tossed his keys in the air, which the man caught without trouble.
He was getting good at that.
“Did you have a nice day at work, Jay?” Logan asked.
“As good as ever,” he grumbled. “Can you have the car parked in its usual spot? I’m going to go for a run around the property.”
“You got it,” Logan said.
Jay nodded.
At least in Logan, he had one normal person around him. Logan was a college kid that had landed a summer job tending Jay’s gardens and landscaping. Over time, he’d cracked enough jokes and gotten to know the young man well enough to offer him a higher position, which he’d taken without question. Gave up college and started running the house, just like that.
Jay wondered sometimes if he regretted the decision. Given the owner’s current mood and behavior, Jay imagined most people that were associated with him had regrets about that connection.
He strode into the main lobby of his opulent home. A large central staircase split at the middle and Jay went to the right. Down the hallway, the door to his bedroom was open, and he breezed past the gas fireplace across from his massive bed and opened a bureau drawer to remove his running clothes.
Above all other things, Jay was about comfort. He knew he got strange looks for dressing down at work, but he did his best thinking when he didn’t have clothes pinching at him. His loose shorts and T-shirt fit his body perfectly, and after he tied his running sneakers, he took the stairs back down two at a time until he reached the back garden door and stepped outside.
There was a running trail he’d put in that looped the entire property. He headed in that direction, stretching as he walked. Jay was thirty-seven, and even though he was in good shape, he knew that stretching was essential to prevent injury. When he reached the path entrance, he picked up the pace, settling into a rhythmic run.
Why had she been so sca
red?
As his body calmed and adapted to the run, his mind was able to find its own path. Marianne was scared. She’d asked him for money, but she’d never really said what it was for.
Did he give her a chance to, really?
He ran through the conversation in his head as he looped around a grove of apple trees.
No. He hadn’t asked or really cared about why she was making the request. In fact, it was more like a demand. Didn’t sound like it, given the shake in her voice and her very appealing legs.
Ten thousand dollars barely constituted a drop in the bucket as far as Jay’s wealth was concerned, but when he’d handed her the check, it was as though he’d given her the gift of life.
And anyway, why was he still thinking of that woman? There were plenty of others that he could think about, and likely should be thinking about, but there was something about her.
She was beautiful, of course, but in a natural way. She had a nurturing vibe about her, a kindness in her eyes even as they were filled with desperation and fear. She would make a terrible poker player.
Jay glanced around and realized just where exactly he was.
How long had it been since he’d paid his parents a visit?
His feet turned on their own volition, jogging off the beaten path and up a grass-covered hill until the large willow tree came into view. Beneath the tree were two modest gravestones.
Funny, that. To have this expansive, massive estate, and have nothing but a small piece of rock to mark one’s final resting place. Jay’s breath came out in ragged puffs as he jogged up the steep hill, finally stopping beneath the willow tree, in front of the gravestones.
“Mom. Dad,” he said.
When they’d died, it had been very clearly stated how they’d wanted to be laid to rest. Jay had been a mess the entire time, of course, and he’d generally had advisors doing all of the terrible work involving funerary arrangements and the like. The first time he had stood on this hill alone, he’d cried.
“These conversations always seem so one-sided,” he said.
And why wouldn’t he get to have some gallows humor? After all, it was very possible he could be taken from this place, never to see them again.
