Man in Charge, Book 1 Read online

Page 14


  “You’re so fun to play with, Tessa. The perfect little fuck toy. I almost wish you weren’t so committed to being ethical so I could use you a whole bunch of ways before I let you get what you want. I would dirty you up so good. Make you never want to be fucked by anyone else ever again.”

  It was sex talk, filthy words that were said in the heat of the moment, the kind that always revved me up. If I was still capable of speech, I would have returned them in kind. Dirty me up. Play with me all you want. I’ll never fuck anyone who isn’t you.

  It was possible I even meant it.

  Luckily, my climax hit, followed immediately after by his, and I didn’t have to wonder about the truth in my unspoken words. I was sure there wasn’t any truth in his.

  So why did I want to believe so badly that there was?

  This was such a bad idea.

  “Am I out of your system now?” I asked when he’d put himself away, disposed of the condom, and collapsed on the sofa next to me. I told myself I wanted the answer to be yes.

  He didn’t even hesitate. “No. Am I out of yours?”

  “No.” Just the opposite. He was like a drug. The more I had of him, the more I wanted him.

  Which wasn’t surprising since I had a pattern of falling for guys that had no desire to stick around. What was surprising was how there was still a part of me that wanted to believe Scott would be different.

  I had to ignore that part of me.

  And if I wanted to retain any self-dignity, I had to make some boundaries. Starting now.

  I sat up and stared him in the eye. “Look, I know I’m the one who came in here offering sex. It was an immature move, one inspired by desperation. The DRF is really important to me.”

  “Yes. You’d do ‘anything,’” he said, quoting my role play.

  I tried not to smile and failed. Scott was fun. He was really fun. No doubt if I spent any more time with him, I’d get my heart broken. It was a good reason to walk away from him entirely.

  But I wasn’t going to walk away from the sponsorship.

  And as long as I was there for that, Scott was going to be there too.

  I wiped the smile from my face. “Scott, this can’t happen—”

  He sat up and sharply cut me off. “If you say this can’t happen again—”

  “This can’t happen again until the contract is signed. We both have to agree to that. It’s the only way we’ll resist.” It wasn’t setting an impossible goal. It was doing the business first with the promise of fun later, like Teyana had suggested.

  It was also hoping like hell that I made it to the fun before Kendra came back and ruined it all. All the more reason to concentrate on the job to be done.

  I reached out and ran my fingers across Scott’s bearded jaw. “I really don’t want to screw this up.”

  He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on my knuckle. “Fine. I’ll agree.” He stood up and tugged me to my feet as well. “Gives me incentive to push this through. And you say you don’t have the power.” He shook his head like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

  He still didn’t get it. Didn’t get that any power I had over him was a facade. Sure, he felt motivated by his dick to move the vetting process along, but what was at stake for him? Blue balls?

  On the other hand, if he stalled this so long that I got caught before the deal was signed, then I’d most likely be out of a job, and the DRF would be out of a much-needed sponsorship.

  And Scott would hate me.

  That last thing felt like the worst consequence of all.

  Fifteen

  Thursday afternoon, I stood with Sarah Boynton as she scanned the SIC conference room. It was a larger room than the one I’d met with the team in, more impressive. The furniture was top grade, and the entire back wall was floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a magnificent view of the Midtown skyline.

  “I still can’t believe you landed us with Sebastian Industrial,” she said. “I keep pinching myself.”

  “This is just a coordination meeting. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I reached over to knock on the conference table, which appeared to be made of real wood. While I was there, I straightened one of the Dysautonomia pamphlets that Sarah had set out when she’d first arrived, not that it needed it. Then I went about needlessly straightening all of them. I was fidgety with nerves and needed something to do with my hands, and I wasn’t even the one who would be doing most of the talking today.

  “Right, right.” She followed behind me. “I want you to know I have no expectations. I’m appreciative that you’ve gotten us this far. After so long with no bites at all, I’d begun to wonder if our deal with Conscience Connect would lead anywhere at all.”

  If left to Kendra, probably not.

  I didn’t tell her that. “Setting up corporations with foundations is like dating. It can take a long time to find the right partner, but once you do, it can be magic.”

  “It’s an honor to even get a date with SIC. Truly. Thank you again.”

  Satisfied with the pamphlet arrangement, I turned to Sarah. “You’re welcome again.” She’d already poured profuse gratitude on me when I’d called to set up the meeting on Monday after I’d left Scott’s office. I didn’t need to hear it, but it did remind me why I’d wanted to do this in the first place. It felt good to see the risk paying off.

  “I’m even more thrilled that Kendra let you pitch it. I’ve been nudging her for months to give you the reins on this. Passion sells much better than any presentation, and you have it for the DRF.”

  “Well,” I swallowed. Not for the first time, I considered telling her the truth. Sarah was the one who’d told me I had a job anytime I wanted at the DRF, and there was a good chance I’d need to take her up on that soon. Would telling her that I’d bucked authority to get this sponsorship put her off or impress her more?

  The chance to confess disappeared when the conference doors opened and the first team members arrived, followed by SIC’s lawyers, and then soon after, Eden leading in more representatives from the DRF. I busied myself with playing hostess, greeting everyone and passing on any beverage orders to Eden. Admittedly, I enjoyed ordering her around, probably more than I should.

  At three p.m. on the dot, the doors opened again and Scott walked in.

  And the air in my lungs went out.

  I’d done a good job of putting him out of my head over the last few days, but at the sight of him, all the thoughts and feelings I’d repressed came flooding over me like a dam had been raised. My skin tingled in his presence. My lower belly hummed. My blood went warm, and I could feel color rising to my cheeks.

  “Let’s get started, please,” he said as he crossed to the head of the table. Everyone scrambled to their seats, even those who had no idea who he was, because that was just who he was. The kind of command he held over a room.

  It definitely was the kind of command he held over me.

  Those blue eyes in particular held power over me, which was why I’d ordered myself to avoid eye contact at all costs during today’s meeting. It was by pure accident that my gaze collided with his as I helped get everyone seated.

  Hi, he mouthed, setting a thousand butterflies soaring in my stomach.

  I fought a smile and lost. Hi, I mouthed back.

  When I managed to pull my eyes away, I found Brett watching. He looked to Scott, then back to me. It didn’t matter that Scott was now focused on the papers in front of him, Brett had seen our exchange, and his expression said he was not at all pleased.

  It probably was fine. But his disapproval wiped the smile from my lips and wound the butterflies in my tummy into a tight knot.

  At least I wasn’t sitting next to him since I was sure I’d get some sort of lecture whispered to me if I were. The spot that had been designated for me wasn’t necessarily better, however, because it was next to Scott.

  Okay, it was the best spot in the room, and when I’d realized I’d be sitting next t
o him, I’d done a mental happy dance. Usually, I spent these meetings across from him. Today, that space was left empty, a subtle reminder that of everyone gathered today, there was only one man in charge.

  But sitting next to him had its drawbacks too. I could feel his body heat radiating off him. I could smell that dizzying woody scent of his. He was a distraction no matter what when I was in the room with him. Being so close only magnified his effect.

  He, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected. With as much professionalism and command as I’d ever seen from him, he launched into the business of conducting the meeting, introducing himself and giving a brief spiel about the company.

  Seriously? Scott?

  I glanced down at my phone as the incoming message from Brett flashed across the screen. Kicking myself for leaving it out in the first place, I started to turn it over.

  But then the impulse to defend myself took over. What had he even witnessed? A greeting exchange. That was all. Never mind that more had occurred. Brett didn’t know that.

  I shot a quick text back. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Don’t play dumb with me. That look you gave him. I’ve seen that look before.

  I glanced down the table and gave him a stern expression that I hoped said, Come on, really?

  Only to realize that the whole room was watching me because apparently Scott had just turned the meeting over to me.

  “Ah, yes, thank you, Scott,” I said, quickly getting myself together. “I believe I’ve met everyone individually now, but in case I didn’t, I’m Tess Turani. I’m here to be a liaison between Sebastian Industrial and the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation as we proceed. First up on the agenda is to discuss the ways that the DRF plans to spend any sponsorship monies received. With us today, we have several representatives from the DRF who will guide us through that.”

  Before I could proceed with introducing Sarah, the conference doors swung open again, and in walked Henry Sebastian.

  If I’d thought Scott’s entrance had been powerful, it paled in comparison to his father’s. Henry took the room by force, as though he were at the center of a cyclone and everyone else bustled around him in his wind. Eden immediately rushed to get him water. Brett stood up to pull out the chair at the opposite end of the table. Silvia gathered the pamphlet in front of her and added it to the other materials I’d given her previously and set them in front of Henry’s seat. Everyone else reacted too, sitting up straighter as though they were students and the principal had just walked in the room.

  Even Scott seemed more alert. “I thought you hadn’t planned to make it today,” he said.

  Henry didn’t even look at him, flipping through the booklets in front of him instead. “I considered this important enough to shift my schedule around. If I’m going to sign a check for ten million, I intend to know what I’m getting out of it.”

  What he was getting out of it.

  I forced myself not to roll my eyes. I knew as well as anyone that most corporations only gave in order to earn goodwill from the public.

  Scott, on the other hand, felt the need to address it. “Not quite the attitude that’s usually associated with charitable giving, Dad, but glad to have you. You should know what good the DRF is planning to do with those funds.”

  Without giving his father time to react to the subtle dig, he went on. “We were just getting to introductions. Carry on, Tess.”

  I had the distinct feeling that father and son were in the middle of a pissing contest, and the last thing I wanted to do was bring attention to myself.

  But then I felt the warmth from Scott’s lower leg as it pressed against mine under the table. I would have thought it accidental except that he kept it there, probably because he enjoyed the power games and got off on the idea of secretly fooling around, but I took it as a show of support.

  It helped. Without missing a beat, I launched into introducing the members from the DRF, and when that was finished, I turned it over to Sarah to discuss the plans for the sponsorship funds.

  “And who are you?” Henry interrupted before Sarah could say more than two words.

  She blinked because hadn’t he been listening? But she handled it graciously. “I’m Sarah Boynton. I’m the—”

  Henry cut her off. “Not you. I mean you.” His eyes locked directly on me.

  Oh, yeah. He and I hadn’t actually met. And he’d come in after my introduction. Of course he didn’t know who I was.

  Still, being put in the spotlight in such a way made my head light. Thank God for Scott’s leg still pressed against mine. “I’m Tess Turani. I’m here as a liaison between SIC and the DRF.”

  Henry frowned, as though what I’d said didn’t make sense to him.

  “She’s representing Conscience Connect,” Scott explained.

  Henry’s frown relaxed, but he somehow didn’t look any happier. “Why isn’t Kendra Montgomery here herself?”

  Oh, God. He knew Kendra too. Personally. Which, again, shouldn’t have been a fucking surprise since she’d said the Sebastians were family friends. On the plus side, maybe it meant that was actually how she knew Scott and that they hadn’t banged after all.

  That plus was small consolation in the moment. I was convinced this was what I’d dreaded, that I was on the verge of being found out, and wouldn’t it just be my luck to occur in such a public spectacle.

  I wanted to crawl under the table.

  “I don’t know, Dad,” Scott said, obviously annoyed. “Maybe she thought it was a conflict of interest. Whatever the reason, Tess has done an excellent job presenting options to the team. Kendra obviously sent her best, and we’re lucky to have her.”

  I was the kind of girl who could turn praise like that into a declaration of love. Normally, I’d have been swooning at his feet.

  Today, all it did was make me feel worse. Because Kendra hadn’t sent her “best.” She hadn’t sent me at all.

  And, oh God, Sarah was witnessing all of this. There went my backup job.

  But then Henry nodded in acceptance. “Very well, then. Let’s proceed.”

  My nerves didn’t settle after that, even when the agenda was back on track. I was certain the whole meeting was a waste of time, that Henry Sebastian was bound to nix the whole thing. It hadn’t occurred to me before then that Scott wasn’t necessarily the final word when it came to placing the DRF with Sebastian Industrial. Now that I realized that the real power lay with a hard-hearted narcissist, I was positive there was no way the sponsorship would go through.

  My fears seemed to be confirmed when, after everyone at the DRF had spoken, Henry said, “I’m concerned that this organization is too feminist. Business is run by men. If we want to earn the respect of other businesses, we should be engaging with a foundation that benefits men.”

  All right. Now I was going to go off.

  I had a myriad of things to say in response, starting with addressing that the idea that businesses were run by men was super outdated, followed by an in-depth tutorage on how anything that benefited women was a benefit to society as a whole, and ending with a long string of adjectives describing what a piece of shit he was.

  Fortunately, the younger Sebastians were looking out for me.

  A text flashed across my phone from Brett. Don’t do it.

  At the same time, Scott addressed his father’s asshole remarks. “It’s hard to know where to begin to respond to that. The fallacies of thought hinted at in your statement are appalling and, to be frank, embarrassing, but I’m well aware that pointing them out will mean nothing to you. Instead, let me try to use language that you will hear—your current image has been tainted by a history of anti-feminist behavior. The attacks you’ve had in this area have increased in recent years. I know cleaning up that perception is not your priority, but doing so would definitely get the attention of the press. You want to draw focus away from the other messy parts of SIC? Then my advice is to endorse a female-centric foundation, and let the public prai
se you for your reform. No one has to know it’s only for show.”

  The room was quiet. Tension stretched from one side of the table to the next, a blanket so thick it was hard to breathe.

  Both Scott and Henry seemed completely unconcerned, as though scathing conversations were conducted between the two of them in front of others on a daily basis. Maybe they were. I’d never been in a meeting with them both before. What did I know?

  To Scott’s credit, though his words had been biting, his tone had been matter-of-fact. While I’d been well aware of his ability to lead, this was the first time I’d really seen him acting in his role as VP of image. These were probably the things he advised his father and the board on all the time. Perhaps the questions he’d asked during our meetings hadn’t been just to stall but also so he’d be equipped to handle Henry Sebastian.

  I imagined it would be hard to constantly have to confront his father like this. It was possibly me projecting—I would never dream of having hard words with my dad. Of course, since my father hadn’t spoken to me in fifteen years, any words with him at all were hard to imagine.

  Still, I felt for Scott. Even though he appeared stoic and untouched, I pressed my leg harder against his, wanting to give him the same show of support he’d shown me. And to thank him, for sticking up for the DRF when he could have presented him with something else.

  He glanced at me in response, his expression serious. His eyes, though, said something I couldn’t quite read, something I was sure was just for me.

  Well, at least I had that. When I was out of a job and a laughingstock in the community, I’d remember that look. Maybe all I was about to lose would even be worth it because of that one glance.

  After what felt like a lifetime, Henry finally responded. “That gives me much to think about. I’ll consider it in my decision.” He stood, doing up his jacket button as he did. “We’ll get back to you soon.”

  He left the room as abruptly as he entered.

  The floor felt like it was dropping out from under me. Coordination meetings were supposed to be a matter of formality, and here we were going to have to leave with the partnership unconfirmed.