“She fucking what?” Calum shot to his feet. Laurella had said as much in her presentation, but Jules’s confirmation, and the fact his team had been spoken to without his express permission, annoyed the shit out of him.
Jules made a calming motion with her hands. “Take it easy. She’s entitled to her opinion, and who knows—we might be able to learn a thing or two.”
“She’ll learn a thing or two all right. Starting with keeping her nose out of my goddamn department.”
Jules chuckled. “I see the break hasn’t done anything for your temper.” Jules had known Calum too long to be bothered by his outbursts.
“What else did she say?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Jules shrugged. “Not much.”
When Calum continued to scowl, Jules reached across the desk and patted his arm. “Go easy, Calum. Zane thinks she’s fucking amazing. I know he’s your friend, but at the end of the day, this is his business. You’re a minority shareholder, so you’d do well to remember that. Don’t say anything you might later regret.”
Calum’s answering smile was tight. “What, me?”
“Yes, you.” Jules got to her feet. She made her way across his office but paused with one hand on the door handle. She glanced over her shoulder. “She’s smart, Calum. Don’t toss her ideas in the trash before listening to them.”
After Jules had left him alone, Calum mused over what she’d said. He was annoyed by Zane’s decision, but it had been made. Laurella Ricci was right there, on his turf, which meant he should try to make it work.
Or not.
Chapter 2
Laurella headed back to her office after the board meeting. It hadn’t gone too badly, although it could have been better. She’d been anxious about meeting Calum, and from his initial response in there, her anxiety had been well-founded. From what she’d gleaned during the last few weeks, he commanded an enormous amount of respect, as well as a healthy dose of fear.
Zane hadn’t told her why Calum had been out of the business. Not that it mattered. She was there to do a job—and do it she would, regardless of his clearly intended resistance.
She’d come across salesmen like Calum before. The way he’d sneered throughout her presentation had been textbook. And then he’d baited her regarding the level of detail in the material she’d presented. Well, screw him. He’d have to work a hell of a lot harder than that to get a rise out of her.
She spotted an email from her dear friend at Spirito and grinned at the subject line: Crushed any balls yet? She reached for her cell phone and Facetimed him. While she waited for him to answer, a sense of nostalgia washed over her. It had been the right time to leave Spirito. She needed to prove herself in a smaller company, one that didn’t have its entire strategy already in place that limited her ability to influence. However, that didn’t stop her missing her previous employer or the fabulous team she’d been a key part of.
“Laurie, mia cara. How are you doing?”
She grinned at Andrew’s nickname for her as well as his attempt at an Italian endearment. Even after spending five years living and working in Italy, his English accent still shined through. “I’m well, Andrew. How are things in Milan? Missing me yet?”
“Every day, my sweet girl. I hope Zane Quinlan knows how lucky he is to have snagged you. Are you settling in okay? Enjoying the Big Apple?”
“It’s wonderful. As vibrant as you described.”
“So you don’t think you’ve made a huge mistake and are calling to beg for your job back?” His voice held a tinge of hope mixed with anticipated disappointment.
Laurella laughed. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
“One can hope, my dear.”
She expelled a soft sigh. “I do miss you all.”
“You’ll miss us for a while. And then you’ll forget us like that.” Andrew snapped his fingers.
She laughed. “Never. I have to admit, I hadn’t appreciated the challenge of moving companies and countries at the same time.”
“Well, at least it’s not your first trip across the pond, although I’d imagine New York is a little different from Harvard.”
“You’re not kidding,” she said. “Although, thank goodness, those four years taught me some of the lingo.”
Andrew laughed. “You’ve remembered some slang at least. You’ll do fine, Laurie. I’m always here if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Andrew. I’m so lucky to know you.”
“I think you have that the wrong way around, Laurie.”
She chuckled, said goodbye, and hung up. She caught her breath as a slug of homesickness rushed through her. She sucked in some air, taking it through her nose then let it out slowly. “Calmati, Laurella,” she said. “Calm down.”
She fired up the design app and opened the file that held a logo she’d been working on for Necron. She hadn’t shared this with Zane yet. She still had a few hours of work to do before it would be good enough to show him, but already, the buzz of knowing she was working on something with real promise zipped through her. Her first essential task was to give Necron a recognizable brand. From what she’d observed so far, the company’s brand awareness wasn’t consistent, and its success had far too much reliance on people. All it took was for one of those people—say, someone like Calum Brook—to decide to leave, and bam! The company would take a hit that it might never recover from. She was there to provide sustainability as well as expand growth into new markets.
After she’d worked for another hour or so, her stomach rumbled with hunger. Laurella stood and stretched out her back then grabbed her purse, ready to head out to the deli across the street. She’d only made it halfway to her office door when Calum Brook entered—without knocking.
“Going somewhere?” he drawled, his easy manner, after his earlier rudeness, grating on her.
Laurella lifted an eyebrow. “To lunch, actually.” Her tone might have been the epitome of politeness, but her message was clear. Her stomach rumbled again, and Laurella clutched it. Calum’s lips twitched. What a child.
Calum moved the sleeve of his crisp white shirt and glanced at his watch. “I’ll join you.”
Going to lunch with Calum, even if that meant simply standing in line at the deli, was the very last thing she wanted to do. The air of arrogance he wore, as if he owned the place, set her teeth on edge. Her relationship with the sales director at her previous company had been based on mutual respect, even if their often-opposing goals created conflict. They’d always found a way through. She had a feeling her relationship with Calum was going to be very different. Unfortunately for him, Laurella had never run away from a fight in her life. Between her three brothers, two sisters, and herself, arguments in the Ricci household had been frequent and brutal. She’d rarely lost.
Laurella swept past him and reached for the door handle, but he got there first.
“After you,” he said, gesturing, a hint of challenge to his tone.
She clamped her teeth together at the insincerity in his voice but somehow managed to suppress a sarcastic retort. She stepped around him and headed for the elevators.
They traveled down to street level in silence, Calum lounging against the back wall of the elevator, one foot crossed over the opposing ankle, while he tapped on his cell phone. Good. She didn’t want to converse with him anyway.
When they arrived at the deli, the line curved around the block. Laurella figured it would take them at least ten minutes to reach the front, and she inwardly cursed her bad luck. Calum stood beside her, his body closer than she felt comfortable with, almost as though he was surreptitiously invading her personal space. Something about the man made her nervous, but she couldn’t put her finger on precisely what. Regardless of the reason, she needed to shake it off—fast. She would bet he had a nose like a bloodhound and was able to smell fear—or victory—from twenty paces away. Even though they’d barely spoken, she’d already figured out his agenda, and Laurella believed attack was the best
form of defense.
“I know you’re not happy that Zane has brought me in to drive the company forward, but it’s too bad, because I’m going nowhere.”
Calum gazed down at her, his height providing a significant advantage despite the fact she was wearing four-inch heels. His intense green eyes and designer stubble gave him a dangerous air. Laurella refused to look away, even with every instinct she possessed screaming at her to do so.
“Is that right?” he murmured. He leaned toward her, his warm breath blowing her hair. “We’ll see.”
He moved forward with the line, standing slightly in front of her. Laurella itched to smack the smug curve to his lips right off his face. If her sister Caterina were present, she already would have, but Laurella had always been calmer than both her sisters, who had stereotypical fiery Italian temperaments. Make no mistake—Laurella’s fierce spirit could rival anyone’s, but she recognized the necessity to keep it tightly contained, especially when outside of Italy. During the years she’d spent at Harvard Business School, she’d learned the American way—to be much more restrained. She’d mastered the ability to hold her tongue and win arguments using intellect rather than bluster, and it had served her well.
Laurella remained silent until it was their turn to be served. As Calum opened his mouth to order—he was certainly no gentleman—she cut across him.
“Pastrami on rye, please,” she said, giving the server a sweet smile.
“Are you together?” the man behind the counter asked.
“No.”
“Yes.”
The man stared at them both, confused, while Laurella flashed a fierce glare in Calum’s direction and scowled.
“No, we’re not together.” She handed over a twenty-dollar bill and took her sandwich. “And a bottle of water, please.”
Instead of looking peeved, Calum seemed much more amused. His lips twitched again, and his eyes twinkled with a mischievous spirit Laurella wouldn’t have expected from him. She took her change and spun around. As she began to walk away, a firm hand gripped her upper arm.
“Wait,” he commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.
Laurella launched her shoulder upward, dislodging his hand. “What for? So I can be treated to more of your scintillating conversation? It’s chilly, and I’m hungry.”
She stalked off, resisting the growing urge to glance over her shoulder to see if Calum was watching. She arrived back at the office building and stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button for the tenth floor. A hand shot through the gap, and the doors sprang back open. In walked Calum, a cocky smirk on his runway-model-handsome face. Laurella preferred a more rugged man, one who looked as if he’d lived and maybe even been in the odd brawl or two, but apart from a tiny scar under his left eye—which Laurella pretended was the remnant of cosmetic surgery, to amuse herself—Calum Brook was too goddamn perfect.
“That was a little rude,” he said as the elevator doors closed once more.
Laurella bit her lip, because if she didn’t, she’d likely take a bite out of him—and not one he’d enjoy. “I told you. I was cold and hungry, and as you invited yourself along without my permission, I didn’t feel I owed you anything.”
“Your permission?” Calum hit the stop button. The elevator juddered to a halt. He turned around slowly, his tall frame dwarfing the space inside the square box. It might have been stamped on the wall that eight people could easily fit inside, but with Calum making his presence felt, they’d have been lucky to fit in another two or three.
He stared directly at her. “Let’s get something straight, shall we, Laurella? I don’t need your permission for anything. Right now, Zane might be dribbling all over you like a virgin at a strip club, but trust me when I say I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer than you. He already knows what I can do. You, on the other hand, are an unknown commodity. If you don’t perform, and damned quick, make no mistake: I’ll be whispering in his ear over drinks that you’re a cash-flow problem we can solve with a simple ‘Sorry, sweetheart, you’re fired.’ It would be such a terrible shame if your green card got cancelled.”
Laurella sucked in a breath so quickly it hissed through her teeth. She narrowed her eyes. “This is the twenty-first century, Calum. In case you hadn’t noticed, the old-boys’ network is long dead.”
He leaned forward until they were so close she smelled mints on his breath. “That’s what you think, sweetheart.”
With his gaze burning through her, he reached behind him. The elevator jerked into action. After a couple of seconds, a ping sounded, and the doors groaned open as if in agony. They definitely mirrored her feelings at that moment.
She refused to back down from Calum’s fiery glare, but when he didn’t break eye contact either, she pursed her lips and brushed past him. “Excuse me, but I have work to do. I don’t have time to play your childish games.”
She strode down the corridor, her heels clicking on the marble tile. The second she escaped into her office, she sagged against the closed door. Calum Brook was going to test every single nerve in her body, and the way things were going, she expected him to snap each one.
Chapter 3
Calum stepped through the front entrance of the hotel. Jax ran it, although the whole family had an equal stake in the business. Past the lobby, off to the right of the long hallway, the communal lounge room and bar was full of guests.
He spotted Jax behind the bar and hovered until he caught his eye. “You okay?” he mouthed.
Jax nodded and grinned then turned away to serve the next customer. Jax was born to work in the hospitality trade—and he was damn good at it. Calum considered grabbing a quick drink and mingling with the hotel guests, but after the day he’d had, making small talk was too much effort.
Taking a left turn at the end of the hallway, he descended the steps into the basement that doubled as their private quarters. When Jax had come up with this harebrained idea to open a hotel and have them all move in, Calum had thought his older brother had gone nuts. But now, a few months later, he had to admit it worked—and they all saved a shitload on rent.
At the bottom of the stairs, he entered the family room. His twin, Cole, was dressed in his cop uniform, apart from his duty belt, which lay across the breakfast bar. He was leaning against the kitchen countertop, his hand cupped underneath a bowl, shoveling cereal into his mouth.
“You on tonight?” Calum asked, dropping his gym bag on the floor.
Cole nodded. “Twelve-hour shift coming up.”
Calum’s disappointment must have shown on his face, because Cole frowned. “Something up?”
“Nah. It’s fine.” Calum opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. He twisted off the cap and took a long drink. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and flicked the bottle top into the trash. “I needed that.”
“Gym session followed by a beer?” Cole laughed. “Something wrong with that picture, bro.”
Calum grimaced. “After the day I’ve had, it ought to be gin.”
Cole placed his bowl in the dishwasher. “I’ve got a few minutes, and they’re all yours. Tell me how your first day back went.”
Calum eased onto a stool at the breakfast bar and picked at the label on his beer bottle. “Met the new marketing woman today.”
“Ah.” Cole pulled up a seat next to him. “And?”
Calum shrugged. “As I expected—a complete know-it-all. Told me I’m shit at my job, without saying the actual words. She’s only been at Necron five minutes, yet she thinks she’s top fucking dog. If I get my way, she’ll be looking for a new job this time next month.”
Cole twisted the cap on a bottle of water and took a sip. “That’s a passionate outburst for a woman you barely know.”
Calum scowled. “If all you’re going to bring to the party is unhelpful comments, you can just go to work.”
Cole chuckled. “Bro, give the woman a chance. Who knows? You might learn something.”
“The only thing I’m
likely to learn is how to refrain from sharpening my tongue on her shitty attitude. Something tells me I’m going to fail.”
Cole let out a low whistle. “She’s really gotten to you, huh? Better start examining those strong feelings, brother. Sounds to me like you’ve got the hots for this woman.”
“Bullshit,” Calum scoffed. “When someone who doesn’t even know me or the company I work for stands up at a board meeting and basically tells us all how wrong we’ve been running things for the past five years, forgive me if I don’t just bend over and take it up the ass.”
Cole grabbed his belt and slung it around his waist. He removed his Glock, checked it, then put it back into the holster. “Gotta go.” He walked past Calum and laid a hand on his arm. “As much as I love you, you can be a total dick at times. And who knows, in time, you might even end up liking her.”
“Fat fucking chance,” Calum muttered.
Alone, he paced, his irritation growing with every passing second. He played over the events of the day, from the meeting in the morning to what Jules had debriefed him on and then the trip to the deli. When Laurella had left him basically holding his dick in the elevator, he’d almost stormed into her office and given her a piece of his mind. But instinct had told him he had to be clever with this one. She had her high-heel-clad feet well and truly under the table, despite only starting with the company a few weeks earlier. Instead of his usual style of firing with both barrels, he’d need to be cautious—watch and listen, and when the time was right, strike. There was only space for one of them at Necron, and he would be taking that spot.
The earlier solitude he’d craved became an urge to be surrounded by people. He jogged upstairs and entered the bar. Jax was still running around and doing far too much, considering he wasn’t fully recovered yet. Calum shared a few words with a couple of the regulars then eased onto a chair at the bar.
“You want some help?” he said to Jax, who was mixing a martini with one hand and pouring a beer with the other.
Against All Odds (A Brook Brothers Novel Book 2) Page 2
