IN BED WITH THE BOSS

“I want you know our budget for this project as soon as possible.” he shot out.

“I’ll talk to the account manager,”

“Better had,” he agreed evenly. “Because I’ll be back here if I don’t get it on time.”

If anything could be designed to make her act swiftly, it was the thought that this man would be intruding on her space for any longer than was absolutely necessary. The office, which by any standards was a spacious room, seemed suddenly to have been constricted to the dimensions of a shoebox.

On legs which felt like cotton wool, Vivian rose to her feet. “I’ll go and see to it straight away.”

“Thank you” He watched her graceful movement as she swayed out of the room, the pert line of her bottom thrusting with tantalizing appeal against the material of her gown, and wondered what kind of life she led outside the office. Was she lonely? Or was there a man who ran his fingers through the thick, shiny splendor of her hair in bed at night? There must be. A woman like that did not look as though she was born to be celibate for long.

A thoughtful look stayed on his face. He was puzzled at the progression of his thoughts and he did not like to be puzzled. Yet he had worked closely with beautiful women before, and not once had he wasted time thinking about what they did or didn’t get up to in the bedroom.

His mouth flattened. There was a very good rule for not mixing business with pleasure, he remembered. It meant that you could keep your mind on the job. He picked up his pen and viciously began to underline various paragraphs on the page in front of him.

Vivian left the office hastily, before he had a chance to say anything else, or to look at her again with that coolly quizzical stare, which made her feel as if she’d never been looked at by a man before. And before he could see the color which had made her cheeks feel as if they were on fire.

Now what was that all about? she asked herself as she headed for her account manager’s office. No one was denying that he was potent and powerful and attractive, but she knew the dangers of men like that. Men who could just snap their fingers and any woman would go running straight into their arms. She liked gentlemen-gentlemen-not men who looked as though they would drag you to their beds and then kick you out when they’d had their fill of you. Not men who’d kiss you unexpectedly one night and then act like nothing happened the next day. Not men who definitely break her heart.

“Are you okay, Miss Sanchez?”

Anne, the account manager’s secretary, was looking at her anxiously. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Not a ghost, Vivian thought grimly. Ghosts didn’t exude so much sex appeal that it positively radiated off them. “I want to see your boss” she said. “I have a message from Mr McCall.”

After a couple of minutes Vivian came back into her office, and she was grateful when she saw that he wasn’t in there anymore, but the scent of his perfume remained. She took several deep breaths and went to sit in her chair, not knowing if she should suck up her feelings or burst into tears.

____________

Jennifer Bennet smiled up at her server as she accepted the black folder containing the check for the meal she’d just finished. Well, a little more than a meal. Her smile widened at the warm glow of satisfaction radiating inside her chest. A business meeting with the two women who had just left the restaurant, and one that had gone extremely well.

This had been her reason for ducking out on dinner with Bruce and the rest of her family. As much as her job bored the hell out of her, she was grateful for it. Without the six-figure salary, she wouldn’t be able to finance her own secret company-an investment firm that funded innovative, promising start-ups-start-ups founded by women.

Jennifer made it possible for women to achieve their dreams, and with a percentage of the profits, she was able to continue growing her own business. Margie Investments-named after her mother-was hers alone, without any connection to her family. Even the incorporation documents weren’t in her name. The anonymity-and the NDA she had all her clients sign-allowed her the freedom to use the degrees she’d earned without anyone trying to pigeonhole her. Yes, enduring the time she put in at her brother’s company was well worth it when she could be her own boss.

If Bruce discovered her secret, he would do more than disapprove of it; he would sabotage it. As archaic as it sounded, he possessed firm ideas about her role in the family and the business. He might have created a lip service position for her at the family company, but he intended for her to be a replica of their mother-wife, mother, philanthropist, socialite and the perfect hostess. The philanthropist part wasn’t bad, but the rest of it? She mentally shuddered.

Tonight was a reminder of why she went to such measures to maintain her subterfuge. The excitement and joy that had lit Samantha’s and Emma’s faces as Jennifer slid an investment contract across the table had reinforced for her why her company must continue to thrive without any interference from her brother. The two women could revolutionize the travel industry, and she wanted to be the one who helped them do it. Oh yes, this was well worth missing out on Bruce’s dinner.

“Good evening, Miss Bennet. Do you mind if I join you?”

Jennifer Bennet turned to see a man she didn’t know. She frowned as she watched him. When he slid into the chair across from her, she remained seated, waiting for him to speak.

“I need to speak to you…. It’s very important” the man continued.

“I’m afraid I’m just finishing up dinner, Mr…” She trailed off.

“Scott McCall,” he said, setting a brown folder on the table. “And I promise not to take up too much of your time. But I believe you will want to hear what I have to say.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. McCall, but I don’t know you. Therefore, I don’t believe there is anything we need to speak about. By the way, it’s very rude to just show up like this. So if you’ll excuse me…” She set her napkin on the table and started to rise from her chair.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“I know your secret, Miss Bennet.”

Jennifer froze. Her heart pounded against her sternum like an anvil against steel. Hard. Deafening.

Slowly, she lowered herself to her seat, forcing her expression into one of calm disinterest. Hiding the fear that coursed through her like a rushing current.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied.

His aloof, shuttered demeanor didn’t alter as he cocked his head and studied her. “Is your brother aware of where you are tonight? Does he know about the meeting you concluded just minutes ago?” Scott asked her.

Wait. What?

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“Does he know about Margie Investments?” he clarified , leaning back in his chair. “I must admit, I can’t imagine Bruce Bennet supporting his sister running a company that is outside of Bennet Inc. More specifically, out from under his control.”

Unease swirled in her belly. How did he know about her business? Better question, why did he care.

“Forgive me for not seeing how it’s any of your concern,” she answered, ice in her voice.

“Forgiveness. Oh, we’re so far past that,” he murmured, and as she frowned at the cryptic words, he slid the brown folder across the table toward her.

That sense of unease morphed into dread as she stared at the banded file. She lifted her hand, but at the last moment, she froze, her fingers hovering above it as if it were a scorpion, ready to strike and poison her with its venom. Yet she grasped it, then opened it. Minutes later, her heart thudded against her chest wall like a hammer against stone. The pounding clang in her head deafened her. God, she wished it would blind her to what she was reading.

Report after report detailing shady business deals involving her brother, and even some with his future father-in-law, Senator Collins. Bribery for product placement, undercutting bidding contracts, predatory practices, procuring illegal campaign contributions on behalf of the senator. And these were just some of the accusations leveled against Bruce and Bennet Inc.

“Why are you showing me these…these lies?” She asked and dropped the stack back on the table as if it singed her fingertips. If it didn’t betray weakness, she would’ve shoved her chair back from the table just to place more space between that file and her.

“Lies?” Scott arched a black eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest of sneers. “Facts, Miss Bennet. Your determination to believe they’re false doesn’t make it so.”