by Ellen Lane
And he had never failed to rise to a challenge.
Chapter 5 - Give and Take
Charlotte was on her fifth dress in the past hour, and she was trying to convince herself that, ultimately, it wouldn’t matter what she looked like. She could wear a burlap sack to this damn dinner and it wouldn’t make any difference at all.
Vladimir Kensley wasn’t looking at her after all. She was just an asset to the company, and now he was hell bent on working with her so they could find some common ground where her design was concerned. For God’s sake, he had all but admitted that he still didn’t accept her design, and they had already started work on the damned building.
But, oddly, she wasn’t as angry as she thought she’d be. It seemed Charlotte had exhausted all of her anger wondering why the man couldn’t possibly understand that his father had chosen a slightly unconventional design for his new building.
But now Charlotte thought she was beginning to get a bit of perspective.
She didn’t think she’d ever seen a man make a more awkward apology than Vladimir Kensley - almost as if he’d never actually attempted to make one. Charlotte suspected that, perhaps, he hadn’t. After all, the man was in a position of immense power. It wouldn’t be strange if he barely apologized for anything.
Indeed, if that was the case, she should be flattered that he saw fit to apologize to her. Even if he didn’t know what he was apologizing about.
Even Charlotte found herself suddenly unsure. What she had previously believed to be disdain she now wondered about. Kensley seemed a bit...off when it came to interacting with people - or maybe it was just her. Despite that, he had gone out of his way to ask her to dinner - he wanted to make amends between them, and he seemed honor bound to understand the way she
thought.
It was easier said than done for most. Charlotte only knew of a handful of people who had successfully pulled it off, and she didn’t think Vladimir Kensley would be added to their ranks anytime soon.
And yet, here she was, getting all dolled up for God knew what reason. She was, she soon realized, acting as if this were some sort of date when what she was participating in could very well be the anti-date.
Well, if Vladimir Kensley expected her to give him a crash course in abstract geography over the course of a single meal, he was sorely mistaken. She would, of course, be as pleasant as she could stand to be, but she hardly thought a single meal was adequate time for the man to understand the way she ticked.
So why the hell was she concerned over what dress to wear?
Charlotte tossed her sixth attempt onto the bed and stared down at them all, stark naked. She had chosen her favorite sushi place, so the atmosphere was pretty casual. With that knowledge, she had been prepared to simply throw on a dress and a pair of flats, but when it actually came to the throwing on, she found herself sorely lacking decisiveness.
There was a black number, which she thought would be her safest bet, and then there was her favorite blue sundress, which she felt confident in but wasn’t quite sure was appropriate for a dinner occasion with a man who was supposed to be her boss. Two of the dresses she’d chosen were flat out too uncomfortable, and she was disgusted with the amount of cleavage the last dress showed.
Suddenly, it seemed like she didn’t have anything suitable to wear, which made her want to toss her entire wardrobe in the garbage. With a sigh, she collapsed face first onto the coverlet, cursing her entire existence. This wouldn’t be so damned complicated if the man wasn’t attractive. If Jackson Kensley had only come himself, she probably wouldn’t even be having this issue. She’d be consulting with the elder man at the job site, he wouldn’t be questioning her architecture style and she could just write this off as another job.
But it was already way beyond that
This had transcended work and turned into some convoluted craziness that kept her awake at night. Or rather, woke her up.
To some very interesting dreams.
Mind you, Charlotte was no stranger to erotic dreams. She’d had them once or twice before and merely written them off to infatuation. Almost as soon as she got to know the objects of said dreams, any carnal sexual attraction she had faded. They were never up to snuff. How could they be? These were her dreams they were talking about.
But, with Vladimir Kensley, she would never have that option. She would never sleep with the man - never even touch him - so that meant her dreams were free to rage entirely unfettered.
And what dreams they were?
Completely unbidden, memories began to rise to the forefront of her mind. Any attempts Charlotte made to try and think of something else were immediately drowned out. All she could see was Vladimir’s mouth roving her body hungrily, the way he bit and sucked at her neck - down her spine to hold her in place as he parted her thighs to slide into her...filling her completely…
Jesus Christ...At least it helped that she knew her dreams were just that. There was, in her mind, no way a man so prudish he couldn’t even accept something against the grain would be able to dominate her in bed. Vladimir Kensley probably expected every woman he slept with to just lie there passively and take what he gave them.
If he was, indeed, giving them anything.
Another groan escaped her. Now she was just being malicious. She had no idea what kind of women Vladimir liked, and it was unfair of her to try and demean him simply because she was pissed that he’d invaded her subconscious.
And she was pissed.
Reaching out, Charlotte grabbed the first garment that came in contact with her fingertips and decided that she didn’t care which one it was - that was what she was going to wear. When she saw it was the lowest cut of the clothing she’d brought out, she cursed lowly. She would simply have to wear a sweater over it - she wasn’t going to obsess over this anymore.
It was just one dinner. What could possibly happen during one dinner?
Charlotte showed up for the affair fifteen minutes early - it was a side effect of leaving the apartment early so she didn’t have to deal with Lila’s inquiries as to where she was going. She was sure her friend would pry all of the details out of her later anyway, so she felt no guilt in giving her the slip.
She thought that the fifteen minutes would give her plenty of time to show up and find a good table, but she found, to her dismay, that nearly all of them were full by the time she arrived. Charlotte supposed that it wasn’t her favorite sushi place for nothing, but still found herself disappointed at the prospect of waiting for a table with Mr. High and Mighty - at least, that was, until she found that she wouldn’t have to wait at all.
“Charlotte, someone’s waiting for you.” She was about to put her name in with Miyuki, the receptionist, when the smaller woman made a revelation that caused a double take.
“Excuse me?” She checked her watch quickly. It was still ten to eight. No way the man was that anal.
“Dark-haired, good looking guy over there with a bit of an accent.” Miyuki gestured with a small smile. “He said you’d be in around eight or so.”
Disbelieving, Charlotte looked over to find the man sitting in a booth in the far corner, bent over a stack of paperwork in front of him. She could have guessed he was the workaholic type.
After the shock wore off, she allowed herself a moment to simply stare at him. For once, he wasn’t wearing one of his suits. Instead, he wore a pair of dark slacks and an equally dark sweater that only served to enhance a body she swore couldn’t belong to a man who sat behind his desk all day. Instead of being swept back from his brow, as it usually was, his dark hair hung about his shoulders - he could have just gotten out of the shower.
Though that certainly wasn’t a train of thought she should be entertaining.
“How long has he been here?” She finally managed, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she let on.
“About half an hour. Asked if we minded his doing work while he waited for the second member of his party. Very polite.”
Of course. Polite was Vladimir Kensley’s middle name. “Thanks, Miyuki.” With that, Charlotte steeled herself, tugging her sweater tighter about her despite the spring warmth. She suddenly wished she’d chosen a more conservative dress - but that didn’t keep her feet from carrying her right over to her boss’ table to stand beside it. She cleared her throat and Kensley stopped writing immediately to look up at her in surprise.
“You’re early.”
Charlotte stared him down. “Says the man who was here half an hour ago!”
Vladimir straightened to arch a brow that said very clearly that he could be wherever he damn well pleased, when he pleased. “A water main broke in the office and I had to finish a good deal of work in my hotel room. I hope you’ll pardon the casual attire - I didn’t feel like pressing a suit.”
“You press your own suits?”
In response, Vladimir merely gestured to the empty seat before him and Charlotte felt her cheeks burning. If he’d been rude in inferring that her work wasn’t right for his company, she wasn’t exactly being cordial assuming that he was a spoiled rich kid.
Even if he was. “I must say,” he’d gone back to writing now, and Charlotte was surprised to see that he was working on something he could have just as easily input into a computer with a scanner, “I’m glad I let you choose the restaurant. I know nothing about LA.”
“Well,” she tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand and not the oddly elegant way in which he wrote - or that he was writing in Russian. Fucking Russian, “The best way to get to know LA is to have a native show you around.”
“Are you offering?” He inquired, his eyes never leaving the page in front of him.
“I’m...sure you’re busy with other things. But if either of us has time between all our projects, I suppose it might be good to show you the city.” She’d barely been sitting for five minutes and already the man had her confused. Hadn’t he brought her here to talk business? And was he going to talk to her at all, or was he just going to do work the entire time?
The prospect made her feel oddly relieved - at least until the man finally set his stack of documents aside to fix her with his intense blue gaze. “So, tell me Charlotte, have you be coming to this place long?”
As many times as she had encouraged the man to call her by her Christian name, the young woman now realized that it was a mistake. The title sounded far too intimate from him, and atop that, every time he said it, her eyes were drawn to his mouth.
His gorgeous mouth.
“At least a decade,” she finally managed, “All through architecture school. But, I have to ask, Mr. Kensley, what on earth does that have to do with the building we’re working on?”
Vladimir sighed, folding large hands on the table in front of him. “Charlotte, I’m going to be frank with you.” As if he knew how to be anything else - that much was obvious. “You and I are fundamentally different people. We work in very dissimilar ways.”
“How could you tell?” The dry comment left her before she could stop it, but thankfully, Kensley chose to ignore it.
“I had hoped that by getting to know one another, we might understand each other more. After all, this project is of incredible import to both of our careers. Am I wrong?”
For a split second, Charlotte found her ire rising. She had been so defensive about her career for so long that she thought, perhaps, that Vladimir Kensley was threatening her.
Until she realized exactly what he’d said. The building was important to both their careers. Certainly, this project would serve as a foundation for the firm that she opened as an architect, but how much did he have riding on this? His father had already made all of the important decisions, hadn’t he? Wasn’t the younger Kensley here to just supervise and tag along for the ride?
“How is this going to affect your career?” Good lord, now she was almost as bad at blurting out whatever was on her mind as he seemed to be. She hadn’t planned to leave her filter at home with her sensibilities.
Kensley merely chuckled lowly before fixing her with an indulgent, small smile. “You don’t think very much of me, do you, Charlotte?”
The young woman couldn’t ever remember turning more red - and she was sure it clashed horribly with her hair. “That is...I mean...I don’t-”
“What if I were to tell you that I’m poised to become the CEO of Kensley Enterprises in the next year, and this project is a final test of sorts for me? To see if I well and truly have what it takes to fill my father’s shoes?”
Well, that was quite a bit more than she had expected. Charlotte shut her mouth, staring at the table for a moment. When she spoke again, she chose her words more carefully. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have much to worry about. You’ve been at the head of the company for the past decade, haven’t you? Jackson’s the only one with more power than you.”
“Yes, but do you think that means I’m ready?” She could see him arching a brow out of the corner of her eye. “What do you know about me, Charlotte? Other than I press my own suits?”
Ok, she deserved that one. “Not...not a lot,” She admitted grudgingly, hardly daring to look up when the waiter brought them their food and sake menus.
“And I know little of you. On that one thing, we’re in perfect agreement. Now,” he picked up the menu and perused it for a moment before his eyes flicked back to hers, “In order for this venture to go smoothly for both of us, we’re going to have to see eye to eye. For that, I’d say that a little getting to know one another is in order.”
It was an ironclad argument - and Charlotte found she couldn't even think of the slightest protest. “So, Charlotte...tell me why you like this sushi place so much.”
The young woman hesitated a moment before she replied in utter truthfulness. “Well, I chose this place at random to celebrate my getting into my architecture program. They were so nice to me that I’ve been coming ever since. Plus, the food is amazing.”
“And what’s your favorite type of sake?” For a moment, she thought he might not have heard her, but the young woman was startled to find that the waiter had returned to the table and was waiting to take their order.
“The Snow Maiden,” she answered, once she recovered. “It’s...really sweet. You might not like it.”
But Vladimir didn’t miss a beat. “Two bottles of the snow maiden please. And the Omakase for two.”
Blinking in confusion, Charlotte merely watched the waiter compliment them on their choice before starting away. “What’s an Omakase?”
“It’s a set menu that the sushi chef choses,” Kensley replied instantly. “My brother Toshiro insists that it’s the only way to eat sushi.”
Toshiro. That was a decidedly Japanese name. “Your brother is Japanese.” She inferred. “As in: Born in Japan.”
“That’s typically what ‘Japanese’ means, yes Charlotte.” Now he was smiling at her and she squirmed slightly in her seat.
“And you’re Russian.”
He nodded. “I suppose the accent gave me away. I’ve never really been able to get rid of it.”
“Probably a good thing.” The words were out before Charlotte could stop herself and she soon found her cheeks burning again as Vladimir stared at her curiously.
“Why good?”
“Well...it’s something that makes you stand out, isn’t it? Makes you memorable.” And sexy as hell.
“I suppose I never thought of it that way.” His blue eyes lit slightly in something that looked oddly like pleasure. “Though I would hope to be judged more on my efficiency than on my accent alone.”
Of course he would. This man was about as methodical as a root equation - enough to make her wonder if he was part computer. “Well...if your checking and double checking is any indication,” she finally found herself murmuring somewhat grudgingly, “I’m sure you’re very efficient.”
“Checking and double-checking?”
“My designs,” Charlotte quickly cleared up his confusion, her voice slightly coo
l. “You were definitely very thorough about making sure they fit your company needs.”
“According to my father, they do.” He answered, not one hint of enmity in his voice. “I hope to come to the same conclusion that he has, with time.”
Time. It would take Vladimir Kensley several lifetimes to retrieve the stick up his ass. “You know,” Charlotte began wryly, pouring them both sake from the bottle the waiter brought. “Getting to know someone isn’t methodical and formulaic. It’s organic. If you think there’s some magical question that I can answer to make you instantly understand the way I think, you’re sadly mistaken.”
Vladimir simply took a sip of his sake before making a low sound of approval at the taste; a sound that, Charlotte was embarrassed to say, went straight to the core of her, heating her where she had no right to be heated. “I Think, Miss Gardner, you’ll find the power of inquiry can unlock almost anything.”
Goddamn him. In a perfect world, she would have hated a man like this. But trying to hate Vladimir Kensley was just like trying to keep water in her cupped hands. No matter what she did, any dislike eventually trickled away, leaving only blatant curiosity - with a simmering undertone of physical hunger.
The next week was one of the most hectic of Charlotte’s life. Between the hours she spent at the job site and the time she spent at her desk at home, going over her designs, she barely had time to think about her dinner with Vladimir.
And she supposed that was a good thing.
Whenever she did have a spare moment to contemplate, she had no idea what she was supposed to think of Vladimir or his grand plan to form a singular analysis of her using some sort of verbal questionnaire.
It was, without a doubt, one of the strangest things she’d ever heard of.
But that didn’t mean she hadn’t enjoyed the dinner, in a strange way. After all, for every question that Vladimir asked her, she got to fire one right back at him - which meant she now knew a great deal more about him than she had upon meeting him. First and foremost, however, she had discovered that the Omakase he’d told her about was indeed the way to go. Even after eating at her sushi spot for a decade, she had no idea that it existed - and yet ordering it had resulted in some of the best sushi she’d ever had.
