“Follow me.” Sunny led the way, and people scattered. She didn’t blame them with Sunny barreling toward them. Move or get run over. He seemed comfortable striding down the corridors, nodding at a few people, mainly women. Their presence created a stir. Make that, her presence. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t invisible with Sunny clearing the path. Did they know who she was? Did they even care? She wouldn’t if she was in their place, as long as her paycheck kept coming.
Yet, as their individual gazes landed on her, she couldn’t deny the power surging in her veins. So, this was what it felt like to be the center of attention. A part of her wanted to vomit, which wouldn’t take much the way her stomach fluttered. The other part of her preened. The no-nonsense strut she had her entire life now had an extra sway in the hips. A pair of five-inch sling backs, lacy French underwear, and a clingy dress did that to a woman.
Attention like this went against the grain. Bodyguards remained in the background. “Not your profession anymore,” she said under her breath. Still, the change in her profession didn’t lessen her power. She still had her gun and her skill.
Would Julius like the changes? A dress, heels, and makeup weren’t life-altering, but this was a side of her he hadn’t seen. Hell, she hadn’t seen this side of her in years and couldn’t remember the last time she wore a dress. It was most likely before puberty when her mother bought her wardrobe without any input from her daughter.
Calista caught her reflection in a wall-length mirror and slowed. Damn! She did look good. Her legs were a mile long even in the burgundy knee length dress. Her ass nicely rounded, boobs and waist accentuated by the cinched design enhancing curves she’d forgotten she possessed. Even her hair behaved and hadn’t frizzed in the September heat. The dark waves softened her jaw. It wasn’t often she was pleased with her appearance. Like most women, she was too critical of herself. She wasn’t pretty enough, slim enough. She was too light, too dark, too bougie, too ghetto. Smack dab in the middle, not quite belonging to either side summed up most interracial children and Calista, even though she wasn’t raised with Harvey in her life.
Down another corridor brought them to the executive offices. The carpet was nicer, the walls wood paneled accented with gold trim. Another security guy stood guard, this one in a suit with the company name emblazoned across his right chest pocket. He nodded to Sunny and held the door open for them to enter.
A secretary was seated behind a glass desk at the end of a waiting room. Behind her, in a glass enclosure, she spotted Julius sitting beside Erica who sat at the head of the table.
Her stomach lurched. I’m really doing this. Apparently, that was the reason she got up, barfed, got dressed, and dragged her ass here. To claim her birthright. That did sound bougie.
What the hell is Rhodes doing here!
Her former friend and occasional lover was on the other side of the room talking to Edwards. Nothing had changed. He was the same tall, dark, and handsome man she didn’t fall head over heels in love with. Their gazes met and held until he broke the connection. She hadn’t imagined seeing the warring emotions of anger and regret flickering in his eyes.
Sunny cleared his throat and earned a glare. “A warning would’ve been nice,” she murmured at him.
“Not my job to warn you. Plus, he ain’t here for you. He’s Miss Bryn’s new bodyguard,” Sunny murmured back.
Calista snorted. “Bullshit.” How had Erica known about Rhodes? Or had he sought her attention for retaliation? This was some high school petty crap, but okay. Alright. She hadn’t even entered the boardroom and her claws were out. If that’s how her little half sister wanted to play this, then bring it!
She kept moving to the boardroom’s double doors. Erica leaned close to Julius. Her hand on his forearm, their heads practically glued together as she whispered in his ear. Cozy. Real cozy. Two blond heads pressed together.
As if sensing her approach, Julius looked up. His gaze burned into her and a fraction of a smile graced his too handsome face. Erica noticed his distraction and then noticed her. Anger, disgust, plus a couple other emotions crossed her face, all negative, and all vanished as quickly as they appeared. Calista felt the same damned way and mimicked Erica’s bland stone-faced expression.
Sunny was kind enough to open the door and step aside for her to enter the lion’s den. Conversations ceased when she crossed the threshold, and all eyes were on her. Twelve people. Seven men, five women, herself not included in the tally. They watched her, assessed and judged her. Just another normal day in her life.
“Good morning. I’m Calista Coleman. I’m here for the board meeting.”
“You’re late.”
She expected that from Erica, not Julius. Particularly when the meeting hadn’t even started judging by a chef serving breakfast from a mobile buffet stationed at the rear of the room. It was like being at Golden Corral. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have a complaint. Good on you for feeding your employees and pass her a stack of pancakes and bacon. Ordinarily, her stomach wouldn’t pull a Titanic and try to abandon ship.
Her hackles rose. Did he expect an apology, because he was not about to get one. “I am.”
“Julius, don’t be rude.” Erica smacked his arm playfully. “She’s not late. We’ve barely started,” Erica said all friendly.
“Is there a reason why you’re tardy?” Julius demanded.
He truly expected Calista to stand in front of the class and accept this scolding like a recalcitrant child getting what was overdue. “I own fifty-one percent of the stock in this company, left to me by my father, Harvey Bryn.” She paused to study the room and the not surprised faces. “Oh, good. The news has already been shared.” She waved at everyone. “Calista Coleman, bastard daughter of Harvey Bryn, older sister to Erica Bryn.” She paused for effect, let them see she didn’t give two fucks about any of them, Julius Morgan included. “No one person owns more than I do. Harvey Bryn made sure of that. If I want to be late, Mr. Morgan, I will be late, and no amount of public scolding will ever change that.” The audience’s attention ping-ponged between Calista at one end of the room and the blond duo at the other.
“She certainly put you in your place.” Erica laughed, a light airy sound that was as fake as her smile. She rose and joined Calista, actually draped her arm around Calista’s shoulder. “Welcome, sister.”
“Half sister.” Calista clarified. She didn’t know what the nice act was about, but she wasn’t buying the cheap knock-off bestie bullshit Erica was selling. “I’m sure the board jumped to that obvious conclusion.” Enough with the touchy-feely, she moved away from Erica. “Now that everyone knows who I am, are there any gentlemen here willing to offer a lady a seat at the table?”
The man closest to her lurched to his feet and held out his chair. He was probably someone’s assistant, a junior vice president to whatever. Either way, she thanked him. “What is your name?”
“I’m William, Ms. Coleman. Assistant to Lawrence Carlisle, head of production.” He snatched up his empty mug and half-eaten bagel.
She had no idea what the head of production did or who he was; however, she smiled anyway and thanked William for the seat. A blue folder was in front of her. She opened it to find charts and graphs, and a list of proposals and their costs. All of it gibberish. Fake it until you make it, right? She looked up and met speculation in Julius’ brown eyes.
The chef came to her. Without asking, he placed a cup of coffee in front of her. “Can I get you something from the buffet, ma’am?”
“Take that away.” She pointed at the cup until it vanished. “And thank you, but nothing for me.”
“Everyone, please introduce yourself.” Erica requested. They all sounded off, each department head giving their names. “The welcome committee is over. Let’s begin the meeting.”
Erica stuck to the bullet points in the proposals outlined in the portfolio in front of Calista and detailed in the PowerPoint presentation. Calista paid attention, but to be honest, after two hours, most
of it was Latin. She did catch on to one key point. Bryn Co. was in the red. The last quarter had been bad and the coming quarter was iffy. The stock tanked after Harvey’s death, which was expected; however, the rebound had been sluggish. The merger with Morgan International hadn’t helped.
And the only person who seemed overtly concerned was her.
The meeting closed and Calista gathered her purse and the portfolio. She needed to study this in more detail. A few members exited quickly. A few lingered to speak to Julius and Erica. Lawrence Carlisle approached. Middle-aged with gray at his temples and a paunch, he seemed nonthreatening as he extended his hand. Calista didn’t hesitate to shake it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Coleman. I hope the meeting wasn’t overwhelming.”
“It was fine.” The man was fishing, and she refused to be bait. “Erica certainly knows how to give a presentation.”
“These meetings can be too much for novices to take in,” he said, and Calista let the subtle dig slide. “Are you attending the charity dinner?”
“What charity dinner?”
“Bryn Conglomerate is a supporter of Global Health Initiative.”
“I hadn’t planned to. When is it?”
“It’s Friday at the Waldorf.” Julius came out of nowhere with Erica attached to his hip. “I can escort you.” The poor thing visibly stiffened at his offer. She still had hope that he would be hers.
Jealousy was a hungry beast writhing in the center of Calista’s chest. It would be so easy…too easy. Luckily, she wasn’t petty, and fighting over a man when there were billions taking up space on the planet was beneath her.
Erica wanted him, she could have him. “This is the twenty-first century. I’ll escort myself.”
Chapter Seven
W here is she? Positioned near the entrance, Julius had a bird’s-eye view of the arrivals. An hour into the event and Calista wasn’t there. He should’ve driven to Queens and dragged her here. Or stayed and made love to her all night.
Not likely since she hated him.
At the bar surrounded by women he had no interest in knowing, impatience ate his control. Then he caught a glimpse of red in his peripheral. He stopped, struck immobile by the vision entering the room. The blood red, floor-length dress gathered on one hip and draped her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. A tight bodice accentuated her full breasts and flared hips. The material flowed around her lower half in a silky sheath. The mounds of her breasts, golden in the soft light, jiggled with each step of her no-nonsense “don’t fuck with me” strut.
Since he’d known her, makeup was a minimal almost not there thing, which he loved about her. No artifice, what you saw was what you got. Tonight, Calista scratched minimal off the board in favor of long lashes framing smoky eyes and lips the same red as her dress. The tight bun she’d kept her hair in was gone. It was replaced by a mass of wavy black hair brushing her shoulders. Hair he’d fisted when he angled her head and brought her to him, watching her explode as his fingers plunged into her hot soaked core. That was weeks ago.
Lovingly, his hungry gaze devoured her body from the top of her head to the high heels on her feet. All that cinnamon, the long column of her neck, sleek shoulders, the mounds of her breasts, and her legs peekabooing through a slit reaching her hip made blood drain from his head and pool in his groin. Legs he’d stroked, glided his palms over much too long ago, yet the memory had seared his brain, returning now to haunt him.
And in the center of those legs…nirvana. He’d touched nirvana. Licked its juice off his coated fingers. The taste was sweet, like forbidden fruit. Intoxicating, like hard liquor, a few more sips and he would’ve been drunk. All of her had captured his attention and hadn’t let go.
She paused to scan the room. He watched her give a slight nod to Sunny and Edwards on the other side of the room, then to Scotts scarfing down hors d’oeuvres a few feet away from him, pretending to be Joe Schmo interested in the food. He saw the moment she noticed Rhodes in the middle of the room near Erica. Her lips tightened, but no other reaction was given, and her gaze moved on, traveling until she found him.
Her breath hitched, her nostrils flared, and her gaze smoldered. Until her eyes rested on the women surrounding him. All that preceded a neutral, dismissive affect, then she pointedly looked away. She hated him. Yeah, he didn’t buy that bullshit. Either way, the hate wasn’t reciprocated, far from it. Though, he wished it were. Not being able to touch her, kiss her, hold her in his arms, have her scent fill his lungs was torture. Seeing her so damned beautiful yet out of his reach, snatching her off her feet and into a suite upstairs for a night of passion would be all too easy.
The moment she faltered, wavered between one step and the next, as she surveyed the crowd and the crowd surveyed her, Julius expected it. Thrusted into the limelight by her inheritance and her stunning appearance—not only was she gorgeous, her red dress stopped traffic—and late arrival, all eyes were on her. The unknown entity in an inbred cesspool where everybody knew everybody all the way back to their great-grandparents. Her anonymity ended tonight. She was his woman and the world would know it. He’d make sure of it.
She accepted a drink from a passing server as two men took notice and closed in on her. She saw them, and him cutting them off. One don’t-even-thing-about-it glare, and both headed in a different direction. He saved her from two yahoos, and she refused to even glance his way.
“As always, you leave me breathless,” he leaned in and murmured. His hand circled her waist and pulled her closer, challenging her to pull away.
A shudder ran through her body. She remained tucked to his side, pleasing him to no ends. He caught a whiff of her perfume mixed with her natural scent. His cock shifted in his pants. Sheer will forced it not to lengthen and embarrass the hell out of him.
Her head angled and her hazel eyes finally met his. “Thanks, you’re too kind.”
“Not kind enough.”
She turned to Virgil, his new guard, standing two feet away, and raked him with a cold glance. “You’re too close to the client. Give him room to breathe and watch the room. Not him.” She shooed him away, but he just glared at her until Edwards squawked in his ear. Virgil backed off.
“He needs training,” Julius said.
“He needs to be fired.”
“Or he needs someone who knows what they’re doing to train him.”
“Didn’t you hear? I came into a windfall. I’m not just a bodyguard anymore, Mr. Morgan.”
“You were never just anything but the woman I fell in love with.”
She sipped her wine instead of addressing what he said. The glass in her hand trembled slightly when she pulled it away from her lips. Her gaze shifted over his shoulder. “Did you forget something at the bar?”
Puzzled, he tracked her stare to the four lovely women who’d kept him company until her arrival. “Not at all.”
Her plush lips twisted into a sneer. “Do they know that, because they’re throwing daggers at me?”
He tipped her chin up and closed the distance until a breath separated them. “You are the only woman I’m interested in. The only one.” It would be so easy to take what he wanted, drag her back to his penthouse and fuck her into submission. Not only would it fail, but submission was the last thing he wanted from Calista. He wanted what they had before the yacht, before the stupid kiss Erica had planted on him without his consent. He wanted the connection, their undeniable chemistry that blinded them to everything and everyone except what existed between them.
Her hazel eyes heated, and again, she didn’t pull away. He called bullshit on her “It’s over” speech. He knew it and she damned well knew it too. So did everyone in the room watching them.
A chime sounded and he eased away. “May I escort you to our table?”
The spell broken, she seemed startled to find they were in a crowd. “Our table?”
“Bryn Co.’s table is front and center.”
Discreetly, she fanned her fac
e and took a long sip from her glass, then handed it to a passing server and said, “Lead the way.”
With his hand on the small of her back, Julius maneuvered his way through the crowd, and the tables laden with fancy gold-trimmed china, heavy silverware, crystal goblets, and elaborate floral arrangements. She shuddered at his touch yet didn’t push him away. They traveled deeper into the room to a table in front of the raised podium. He held her chair for her to slide into.
“I didn’t think you’d come?” he said, sitting next to her.
“I’m a shareholder and board member. I had a fiduciary responsibility to attend,” she said all prim and proper.
He chuckled, refusing to believe that nonsense. “No, really. Why did you come? Could it be you wanted to see me. You didn’t need the pretense of a charity event to do so. Anytime, anywhere, I’m there for you.”
She fiddled with the silverware. It was a rare occurrence to catch Calista Coleman nervous. Only three months into their relationship and he knew this.
“You’re laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”
He angled his body to the side and faced her. “How many times do I have to tell you I know what I want, and what I want is you?”
“Until the novelty wears off,” she hissed with such venom he reared back.
But then he was right back in her face. “Is that what you think?”
Confusion filled her eyes, but there was more. In the depths lay suspicion mingled with lust and longing. A longing he was determined to fill.
Chairs scraped the floor as their table filled with the Chief Operating Officer, Chief Information Officer, Chief Marketing Officer, Chief Financial Officer, and their significant others—three women, all eye candy, and one bored looking man.
And Erica Bryn.
Fuck. Next to him, Calista turned into a cold block of ice. All her emotions on lockdown. The lust and longing gone.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” Erica’s focus latched on to Calista as she took her seat on the opposite side of the table. Far yet close enough to have a conversation, which, thankfully, didn’t happen. She turned to the CFO with shoptalk while the COO started chatting with Calista.
Plain and the Billionaire's Seduction (Plain Jane Series Book 3) Page 6
