My computer pings to alert me of a meeting request for one of William’s clients. He wants to meet with Mason and me. It’s tomorrow. Fuck. I’m so screwed. Wait, Cameron is scheduled to join us, as is Parker from his team. Maybe it is about just William’s client. I breathe a little bit easier, but not tremendously. I’m going to take my things home tonight. That way if for some reason they let me go tomorrow or next week, all I’ll need to do is grab my purse.
“—Quinn? Did you hear me?”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“I wanted to know if you wanted to have lunch together today. I brought my lunch, but the sun is shining, and we can sit outside under the oak trees in South Park,” my coworker Tiffany asks.
“Oh. Sorry. Sure. What’s on the kitchen calendar for lunch? I forgot my lunch and am tight before payday.”
“I totally understand. It’s meatball subs and salad. I totally love the meatball subs, but they are terrible for my waistline.” Tiffany has some curves, but the guys all seem to love them, but I understand there is a fine line between curves and fat.
“Mine, too. But the salad will work.”
I have an afternoon meeting with Emerson, and on Friday the company is renting a plane for all of us to fly into Las Vegas for our annual client and employee appreciation. I’m so excited; one of the partners has a childhood friend who has built a huge hotel on the strip, and we’ve rented most of it out to help with a soft opening— for us, our guests, and a few others to try things out without the pressure. We have four chartered flights for employees and clients to fly out, although rumor has it many of our clients are flying private jets in. Must be nice.
This will be three days of fun. I’ll still have to work my second job in some of the evenings, but that shouldn’t be too bad. SHN always does things first class for our clients and its employees
I hardly slept again last night. I did bring my things home after work yesterday, just in case. I didn’t have that much in my desk—hand lotion, a box of tampons, some hairpins, and some mementos that I’ve collected over the years that mean something to me. I left the pictures up in my cube so no one would ask questions.
I hate waiting for the shoe to drop. Today’s meeting will give me an idea of what life is going to be like. I checked with my school loans, and I can opt to pay only the interest. It doesn’t pay down the principal, but without my regular paycheck, it will be necessary to have a reprieve. I’ve been saving my bonuses for a down payment on a condo or small apartment but instead will use that to live on. I may just move home to my dad’s in Florida for a while. San Francisco is becoming unaffordable.
I watch the clock tick by all morning, waiting for the gauntlet to fall. All of my project timelines are up to date, so anyone can come in and take over. I realized last night that I may not be able to go to Las Vegas, and that made me cry. Each year our client-appreciation party is better than the last, and it kills me that we’re having this kick-ass party over a weekend in Las Vegas and I may not be able, or allowed, to attend. I hate San Francisco so much sometimes. It’s too expensive, and it drives me crazy that the cost of living is so high here.
At a few minutes before two, I run by the kitchen to pick up a Diet Coke and head into the small conference room. Parker is there, and it makes me feel better that maybe this is a real meeting, not one arranged under false pretenses. I know why I’m paranoid, but I’m hoping I’m taking this too far.
I sit at the table, cross my legs, and shake my foot, a nervous habit I have. Cameron joins us.
“Hey, Quinn. I saw the analysis of Fickle Communications. I think it’s spot-on. Thanks.”
I’m grateful for the praise. “No problem. I have two more to finish up and will try to do so before I get on a plane on Friday afternoon for Vegas.”
“I’m really looking forward to this weekend. This is going to be crazy.”
Mason walks into the room. “Vegas?” We nod. “I’ve seen the agenda. Tina has been at the Shangri-La for two weeks working with their staff. Between her and Christopher’s friend, this is a big weekend. It’s going to be a blast.”
William comes in and sits next to me. When his knee brushes mine, a jolt of electricity dives through me. He looks at me and smiles, exposing his dazzling pearly whites. He oozes confidence, and it is so attractive. There isn’t a woman, married or single—and probably a few men—in our office who most likely wouldn’t get on their knees for him. He’s flat-out gorgeous. He leans over and whispers, “Sorry.”
We walk through the meeting’s agenda fairly quickly, and as we wrap up, William asks, “Mason, can you and Quinn stay a moment?”
My stomach drops. This is it.
“Sure,” Mason says.
I nod.
We watch Cameron and Parker leave, and I pick at the corner page of my moleskin notebook. I’m determined I’m not going to cry.
“One of the chief engineers of a current start-up has come to me with an idea he’d like to chase. What’s our protocol for these kinds of things?”
I sit a little taller. This isn’t about my second job. He would have mentioned it by now if he was going to bring it up. I’m beginning to think he may not have heard the voice mail and I’m off the hook.
“It’s something we do. Is he one of the founders of his current company or is he an employee?” Mason asks.
“He’s not a founder, however he’s their first employee and has a significant stake in the company,” William shares.
“Then I suggest we walk carefully. Quinn, if William can get you his contact information can you talk to him? I think it’s a little less obvious to his current team if you’re the one to approach him rather than William,” Mason suggests.
“At what point do we get Dillon and others involved?” William asks.
I don’t hear Mason’s answer.
The guys stand up, and I follow suit to leave when I’m sure I hear William say under his breath, “Thanks for all your help.”
“It’s my job. Happy to help,” I tell him with more confidence than I feel.
My bag is packed, and I’m ready for a fun weekend. I’ll still work my second job in the evenings, but I plan on taking in a lot of pool time. I take a seat in the 777 airplane. I’ve never flown in a private plane. This plane belongs to the Sacramento Kings basketball team, and the leg room is amazing. Each chair is a leather captain’s chair. The plane is full of employees, significant others, and clients. William walks up and points to the seat next to me. “Is this seat taken?”
“Help yourself.” I smile at him, and my heart beats a bit faster. Reaching into my bag, I pull out my Kindle and try to read a steamy romance I’ve been working on. I tell myself I read these to spice up my second job, but the truth is, I really enjoy them. I’m reading a particularly sexy scene and my body unconsciously shutters.
William leans over and whispers in my ear, “You’re all sorts of naughty, aren’t you?”
I turn pink. “San Francisco can be tough for a single woman.”
“I have a feeling you do just fine.”
I shrug uncommittedly. “Maybe.” I then go back to my tablet and switch over to a game of cribbage.
“I hope you didn’t stop reading your book because of me.”
“And what would you say if I did?”
He smiles and starts to say something, but the flight attendant interrupts him with the announcement we are in our final approach to McCarren Airport in Las Vegas.
Once we hit the ground and they open the hatch, Tina, our party planner, steps on the plane. “Hello, everyone! Welcome to Las Vegas where the weather is a perfect eighty-five degrees.” She waves to another person. “I’d like you to meet Jean Marie. If you’ll follow her, she will take you to the transportation center and get you your ride to the Shangri-La. Of course, you are welcome to grab private transportation. My team will get your luggage to your rooms, so you don’t have to worry about that. Once you arrive at the hotel, there will be members of the
staff there to greet you and get you checked into your rooms. You will receive a gift bag, which includes itineraries and other activities you can participate in and enjoy over the weekend. We look forward to seeing everyone this evening in the main ballroom at the happy hour beginning at 6:30 p.m. The troupe from Cirque will be there to entertain you. Dinner will be on your own, but with the badges, which you’ll be given at the front desk, you can enjoy any of the top-notch restaurants in the hotel at no cost. Until then, have a wonderful time.”
We all disembark from the plane, and William and I walk together. I catch him staring at me a few times, and I want to just to get it out there. If he’s going to be a pervert about this, then we need to get this over and done with, but he never says anything, and it’s killing me.
After checking in, I take off for the elevator and arrive just as he’s slipping in behind me. “We meet again,” he says with a seductive rasp.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were following me.”
“I think they’ve put all the partners and senior staff on the same floor.”
I can’t help but be a little disappointed that he isn’t following me. We walk down the hall, and my room comes up first, but then he stops at the room next door. “Looks like we’re neighbors. Make sure you aren’t too loud. I’m a light sleeper.” He chuckles and winks at me.
I can’t believe this.
I step into my room, and I feel as if I’m transported to Paris. The walls have broad white and blue stripes; the king-size bed is overflowing with a down comforter and plush pillows. As I glance into the bathroom, I notice there are travertine tiles everywhere, including a shower that is as big as my entire bathroom in San Francisco and a bathtub that I plan on enjoying with the complimentary bubble bath and bath bombs.
Sitting on the desk is a huge fruit and snack basket. There’s a note telling me the fridge is stocked with Diet Coke. They’ve thought of everything.
I shrug off my coat and grab an apple and some almonds to snack on as I sit in a chair and put my feet up.
I spot my luggage in the corner, and it makes me feel important. Everyone likes to feel important sometimes. I pull the note from the fruit and snack basket. “Thank you for all you do for SHN. We’re so glad you’re here.” It’s signed by all the partners. I stop and stare at William’s name and decide I want to check out the pool rather than hide in my room. There’s plenty of time to do that later. The weather is perfect. I pull a bikini out of my bag, along with my sunscreen and a big brimmed hat.
The pool is easy to find, and I see a few people from the office who had the same idea. I find a chaise lounge chair under an umbrella and take my Kindle out. The pool seems to be the place to be after a while. I see William arrive, and he’s talking to Christopher and his girlfriend. I met Bella once and really liked her.
I go back to my naughty book, and I can’t help but imagine it’s William doing these things to me. It’s getting me hot. Needing a breather, I put my book aside and enter into the pool from the steps. As I watch a pool volleyball game, I splash water on me to cool down. After over two hours by the pool, I head back to my room. On my way out, I look over at William, and find him watching me. I wave, and he waves back. When I return to my room, I lie down for a few minutes, which turns into over an hour. It’s really nice to have a quiet afternoon. I don’t get these very often.
When I finally get up, I have just enough time to shower and get ready for tonight’s cocktail party. I’m supposed to be there on time as part of the leadership team to greet people. I spritz my favorite perfume and check myself in the mirror. I look fashionable with my tight, basic black dress, and I like the color my legs got today in the sun, so my come-hither sandals are perfect.
When I walk out of my room, I hear William leaving at the same time.
“You didn’t stay at the pool long this afternoon,” he says.
“I was there almost two hours. Too much sun for me. I like the sun but only to a point.”
“You look beautiful and sun-kissed this evening.”
I blush at the compliment. Emerson and Dillon are at the elevators waiting, and then I hear Mason and his girlfriend talking as they approach.
“Looks like we’re all headed to a party,” William shares, and everyone seems to snicker.
Mason’s girlfriend gives me the evil eye. She’s never liked me, but I’m convinced it’s because I met Mason before she did, and I’ve seen him naked. Whatever. It’s not like I go around talking about it.
Emerson asks, “How is your room?”
“It’s beautiful, and thanks so much for the fruit and snack basket. It was perfect,” I tell her.
“We signed those cards forever last week,” Dillon complains.
Emerson elbows him in the gut. “You’d think his hand was going to fall off.”
We ride the elevator down, and I catch Annabelle scowling at me in the reflection of the mirrors. Jealousy does not become her.
When we get to the lobby, I make a quick exit and head to the bar. I need some liquid courage to make it through tonight.
“What can I get you?”
“A Tanqueray No. Ten Gin and tonic if you have it or just Tanqueray and tonic please.”
“Make that two,” I hear William say over my shoulder. He places his hand on the small of my back, and I can feel the light touch burn holes in my skin. I’m grateful I have a padded bra on because the girls have high-beams and almost hurt they’re so erect right now.
“I have the Tanqueray No. Ten, with a lime or would you prefer lavender?”
“A lime is fine.” I smile at him before turning to William. “Okay, you heard my entire voice mail. Get it out.”
“I did hear it.” He leans in, and his citrus and cucumber smell distracts me. “But there’s nothing to ‘get out.’ I’ll admit I was surprised. Do you always talk like that?”
“Only when they ask,” I say in my best sultry voice. If we’re going to go there, I’m going to dish as hard as he is.
Our drinks arrive, and he throws a fifty on the counter and thanks the bartender. Handing me a drink, he clinks my glass. “To an arousing time tonight.”
I lean in and see he has a tent in his pants. I bite my lip seductively. “I think you’ve already accomplished that.” I walk away and make sure there’s a bit of sway in my hips.
I’ve already seen one of the partners naked—yes, well over a decade ago—but I don’t need further complications at work. With William being a partner, he controls my destiny at SHN, and I can’t muddy that water, and I will not sleep with him to keep my job.
The cocktail hour and announcements are a great kickoff to the weekend. I escape back to my room by seven thirty so I can do a little bit of my second job, changing into my ratty sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. I’m not even logged on for three minutes when my phone rings.
“Hello, handsome.”
Several of my regulars call, and I end up working for almost four hours. When I log off, it’s after midnight, and I’m exhausted.
I think of William while I lay in bed. He’s flirtatious, but he’s very dangerous. There’s no telling what mess I’ll find myself in if I admit that I’m a phone sex operator. I’m going to avoid William as much as I can.
Chapter four
William
I woke with a raging hard-on this morning. I couldn’t get my mind off Quinn and the idea of her talking dirty to me as she fucks me. Playing with her could be dangerous for my career, but I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame. As I wander downstairs, I see her standing in line for the breakfast buffet. She looks radiant in a soft blue floral sundress. I don’t see any bra straps, and it makes me want to explore—but I don’t. I ease into the line behind her and take in her smell. It takes all my self-control to keep from nibbling, kissing, and licking from the thin strip on her shoulder up to her neck until I can bite that delicious earlobe. “You disappeared last night. You missed the Cirque show performers.”
She t
urns to me and smiles. “I heard they were fantastic. I wasn’t feeling well, so I went to bed early.”
“Funny, I thought I heard you talking last night in your room.”
“I was asleep. Must have been a different room. Plus, who would I have to talk to? It’s only me in my room.”
I lean in and ask quietly, “Who do you talk so dirty to at night?” I want to know who my competition is. I’ve never wanted something as bad as I want her.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She puts fruit on her plate and begins to walk to the coffee station.
“I can play back the voice mail you left me if you need a reminder?” My cock is becoming erect, and I need to watch how far I push this with her.
She shrinks back, and I know immediately I’ve gone too far. “William, if you feel you must share it with the world, you are welcome to do so.”
She turns and leaves me standing with a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage getting cold. She sits with some of the leadership team, and I join Mason and Annabelle. They look like I feel—miserable. What they see in one another, I’m not sure.
There are a few tours and activities going on, but I just want to talk to Quinn. I want to know who she’s talking to. I love that she’s conservative, beautiful, smart, and sexy on the outside but has a dirty mind and is wonderfully naughty on the inside.
Later that afternoon, I head out to the pool and see her reading her book again under a big umbrella. I order two Tanqueray No. Ten Gin and tonics and bring her one. She looks up and scrutinizes me as I hand her a drink. I wish I could read her mind. “Thank you.”
“It’s hot out, and I thought you might be thirsty.”
She points to her water bottle. “I’m good, but this works. Are you going on any of the tours?”
“Nah, I’ve been looking for you.”
Enchanted: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #8): A Fake Fiancée Romance Page 2
