Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
“Neither does he,” she says, leaning in, her tone friendly still. It eases something in me. “I mean it. I’ve worked with him for over a decade now. Mr. Bradford … he doesn’t behave like this. He’s strict with his regimen and occasionally a woman has come in to speak with him. But it’s never … like this.”
Adrian
“You know how I know you want to push me today and not in a good way?” I question the vixen at my side. Her cherry-red heels clip on the pavement as I open the door, waving toward Noah that I’ve got it. The spring day is a cloudy one, with gray skies and the threat of rain clouds.
“How’s that?” she asks, gripping the door frame, one shoe inside the car, the other firmly planted on the curb. She stares at me from over her shoulders, the wool coat perfectly hugging her frame.
“Because you’re eager to get me alone in this car. I didn’t have to fight you.”
Her smile is wicked, her rose petal lips trying all they can to stay pursed, but they fail. “Inside,” I command her and she obeys, properly and politely as I shut her door for her, knowing damn well she’s going to try to get information out of me. While I sat through meeting after meeting, she came looking for me. Andrea let me know. She suggested I order flowers, of all things.
I’m not sure what exactly she thought Suzette was coming to see me for, but if I had to guess, with the cars buzzing by us and the nightlife of the city turning vibrant, it’s about her department and the upcoming meetings.
With a steadying inhale, I climb into the back seat and shut the door.
“I tried to speak to you all day.” She doesn’t waste a second. She peeled her coat off, laying it across her lap and at first glance, I’m given a damn good look of her breasts. Whatever contraption she’s wearing has pushed them to the top of her blouse which hangs low, I presume to display cleavage.
Not fair.
Reaching for my seat belt, I prepare myself.
“I had roundtables with my team.” The belt clicks into place and the tick of the blinker is barely heard as Noah rolls up the partition, allowing us privacy.
“Your team who’s talking to my team,” Suzette stresses and I can’t help but to let out a chuckle.
Leaning my head back, I turn to face her.
“I don’t find it funny,” she tells me and there’s a hint of hurt there.
“Because you aren’t in control,” I tell her honestly.
With her hands in her lap, she fidgets with her fingers and tells me, “I just need to know what your plans are.”
“It’s after six, Suzette.” I’m soft with the reminder.
“I don’t like this.” She’s equally soft with her disappointment. It’s unsettling. Not anger; she’s genuinely upset.
“It’s okay to be uncomfortable. That’s how progress is made,” I tell her, in an attempt to ease her mind.
“I suppose I could leave you uncomfortable then?” It’s not quite a tease or a threat, but some combination of the two.
My response is firm. “Don’t tempt me to punish that mouth of yours before we’ve had dinner.” She swallows, the threat coming through as it should. To remind her that she loves what I do to her, that right now the office is behind us and we’re to get lost in each other.
Her posture remains stiff, though, and her gaze guarded.
In an attempt at a truce, I rest my hand on hers, and she reciprocates by turning her small hand to hold mine. “Thank you,” I murmur and then run my thumb along her soft skin.
“Please, answer me one thing,” she presses and I close my eyes to respond with a short nod.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“With what?”
“The company?”
I remain silent. As if it were so simple to have a one-sentence answer, or to even know what would be best so early on.
“A split-up? Go public for shares? I looked into the other companies under your LLC, so I doubt you have a merger in mind.”
When I finally open my eyes and look back at her, fear lingers in every nuance.
I debate on confiding in her, knowing how quick office rumors are to spread and the chaos that little bits of information can create. But then she utters a single word, staring back at me like I could make every little worry she has vanish. “Please.”
“The plan is a split-up and the merger of the new entity and another company I have in mind … if possible.”
She doesn’t hesitate to question, “And what about the other? The original entity? The departments that aren’t useful for the merger?”
I’m silent, half wondering if she’s playing me. If all of this was a setup and she’s pumping me for information. “There are inefficiencies that cannot be overlooked.”