Chapter Two
Harris
“Where have I seen her before?” I grumbled to myself as I leaned back in my chair.
It was like a memory that wanted to come forward but hadn’t found the path through the dark maze of all I’d done and seen in my forty-six years of life. Yet, despite my sense of having seen her before, I couldn’t imagine that she would have been someone I could have ever forgotten. She was gorgeous with blonde ringlets that danced along her shoulders, and her slender legs seemed to go on for miles. She had a beauty that could have outshone Rita Hayworth.
She was young enough to be my daughter, but somehow that knowledge didn’t provide me with the cold shower that I’d hoped for. Why’d she have to be so damned beautiful?
Getting up from behind my desk, I walked along the side wall of my office with a slow, purposeful gate. It was covered with photographs—time capsules of important moments for Select Holdings, Inc. We were the company that stood behind the movers and shakers found on four different continents, and this wall held the quintessential moments of the company’s history. In them were the individuals with whom the company had forged business deals throughout the years, and it stood as a testament to the company’s desire to build a community of industries working toward common goals rather than organizations constantly seeking to undermine and undercut each other’s efforts.
All in all, it was kind of like organized crime, but legal. You help me and I help you make money.
My eyes scanned every face of every picture. Bending at the waist, I leaned forward and stared at one about hip height. In it stood myself—alone—and a variety of other business people, some with members of their families. It had been taken at a Consortium for Economic Planning for 2050 and Beyond. Together, we had projected the needs of nations in the face of potential wars, natural disaster, and population migration caused by climate change, mapping out contingencies stretching forward to the end of the century. Never underestimate the profitability of a crisis. Not that I celebrated such things, but a machine only knows what it’s programmed to do.
And there, standing behind Roger Clement’s right shoulder was a tall blonde with sparkling blue eyes and legs that a runway model would be jealous of.
“Gotcha.” The girl I’d seen was the daughter of Select Holdings, Inc’s most aggressive competitor, Clement Securities.
Still bent over, I twisted my neck to look back towards my desk, the same desk that I’d seen her underneath. She’d been snooping around, and I wanted to know why. While Select Holdings, Inc., prided itself on a global morality—to an extent—it was not a sentiment that made us immune or unaware of the ambitions of other companies to see us fall and crumble so that they could pick up the leftovers from our devastation. I hadn’t considered Clement Securities to be especially money grubbing and greedy, but it wouldn’t have been the first time we’d been targeted for industrial espionage.
I stood to my full height as I heard my office door open behind me. Turning, I watched as the beautiful Ms. Clement walked with a quick swing of her hips over to my desk and laid some files down.
More than a little curious about what she was up to, I kept my mouth shut and simply watched her without moving. She didn’t know I was there, and I wanted to see what she would do when she thought she was alone. I already had plans to check under my desk for a recording device.
But, what she did was nothing. She laid the files down and turned to leave. She made it a whole five hurried steps before she spotted me out of the corner of her eye. The shriek that followed nearly made my eardrums bleed as her hands flew to her chest and she stumbled off balance to the side. I had to lunge to catch her flailing arm as she started to fall, pulling her hard against me until I knew that she was once more steady on her feet.
Her eyes were wide and wild as she stared up at me, her breath coming quick, but it didn’t take long for her to recover.
“What were you doing just standing there?” The arm that had been flailing seconds before landed a hard slap on my shoulder, and I loosened my grip around her, hating that I was having to remove my hands from where they lay flat against her back. She had the back of a dancer, supple and limber, and the way she moved against me made me feel as though I were holding her as she danced even though her feet weren’t moving. It was with actual regret that I let her slip away. “What are you doing?”
“I should be asking you the same question. You seem awfully interested in my desk. Why were you rushing?” It was late, already past 6, and I wondered if security was still in the building. I’d hate to have her escorted out, but I’ve done worse.
Her eyes looked me up and down and she drew back her head. I could see the offense that she was taking to my line of questioning in her outraged expression, but then her features softened and she shrugged her beautiful shoulders. “Every time anybody sees me, they ask me to do something. I was just trying to finish the day and take off before anybody gave me something else to do.”
“I see,” I said simply.
She looked chagrined. “I saw that you already let Pam go home. She was so tickled.” Her weight shifted, and she looked as if what she was about to say made her uncomfortable. “Thank you.”
“No,” I said. “Thank you. I value Pam. I’d hate to lose her by getting too much in the way of what she needs to take care of in her life when she walks out those doors.”
“Oh,” she said, seeming surprised by my answer, and I wondered for the hundredth time why she had to be so damn beautiful. I had never in my life pursued a subordinate, and I wasn’t about to start now. The power disadvantage was too huge and too unfair to her, yet all I could think about was kissing her cherry red lips.
I stepped away, putting distance between us and feigning at least a morsel of disinterest. “Good night, Ms…” I let the title hang in the air, hoping that she’d fill the silence.
“Ms. Clement, Addilyn Clement,” she said in a voice that I wished was whispering to me in the dark of my bedroom in the middle of the night.
“Good night, Addilyn.” I turned my back on her as I walked to my desk and refused to turn around until I’d heard my office door close. When I finally did, my senses revolted at being robbed of the chance to watch her walk away, and I wondered if there was anything I could do to get the girl fired… or at least moved to a different office, somewhere far, far away from me.
The fact that she’d given me her real name made me think she was here otherwise. No way her father would send his daughter to spy on my company using her real name.
Maybe I just wanted a reason to keep her around.