Grayson
Dammit. I made it very plain to the crew that no one was to use my real name. Now, Isabella’s suspicious. Worse, my little seduction backfired. Her sweet kisses for the whole flight gave me a raging hardon and walking through the terminal is downright painful.
I use the time it takes to get to the baggage claim area to clear my head. Once there, I’m glad to see Slate had no problems taking my private jet and is waiting with my fake name on his tablet. We shake hands as if meeting for the first time and he tries to help Isabella with her knapsack.
When she refuses, he raises his eyebrows at me and I just shrug. I have no idea what goes on inside that head of hers.
We follow him into the parking lot and pile into my limo. As soon as we get to the hotel, I’m getting this itch taken care of. Hell, I don’t even feel bad. It’s obvious she wants me and now, I want her, too.
However, there’s about a foot between us in the back seat and a wariness in her gaze that wasn’t there during the flight. Obviously, the steward’s slipup has made her cautious.
I lean over to kiss her but her response is lukewarm, at best.
Dammit. This was not what I had in mind.
Cherry made sure that me and Isabella are checked into rooms with an adjoining door. I’ll knock and Isabella will answer. It’s not like I haven’t taken a business trip with a woman before. However, in the past, it’s never been someone who works for me.
That’s a problem easy enough to solve.
After this trip, I’ll fire Isabella and help her find another job that she’ll be happier with.
She blocks my kiss in the hotel lobby by turning her head. “See you tomorrow. What time d’you want to meet?”
What the fuck? Are you kidding me?
“Seven. We’ll go over our game plan.” I keep my cool and back away but inside, my gut is churning.
She’s not getting away from me, not after making me ache like a hormonal teen. Once inside my room, I call Praveel, my private IT consultant. “I need a favor.”
“Sure. What you got?”
“I want you to shut down Isabella Harte. Emails, websites, everything. Especially anything to do with me.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“I want a log of what she’s up to. How long will it take?”
“I can have it done as soon as we get off the phone. I’ll send you a URL where you can login and see everything she’s doing.”
“Thanks.”
After five minutes I open an email from him. “Sorry. She’s got too many safeguards in place. I can keep trying but it might take a while.”
“Do it.”
Shit.
I put my ear to the door between our rooms and wonder if she played me. Was the whole orgasm on the plane faked? Was she the seducer and me the rube?
No, no, it couldn’t be.
I put my ear to the door while she talks on the phone.
“Hey Mel, Thanks for picking up… I’m in Houston. Just landed… Huh? Yes and no…That HR guy I told you about? He’s actually a Patten… No, I don’t know which one. How many are there?”
Dammit. I never let my cock do the thinking. What the hell is wrong with me? Now, I’ve not only put this project in jeopardy but my promise to my dad, as well.
The bed creaks and I picture her lying on it, looking up at the ceiling.
“Right? The stewardess called him by his real name as we left the plane… He lied. Hold on. My computer won’t hook up to the wifi. I have no idea why. Can you look him up and send it on my phone? Shit. No 4G either. What the hell is wrong with this place? I’ll go check in the lobby and call you back.”
She moans. “If it’s him, I am so screwed. It’s too embarrassing to even tell you… He held my hand because you know how scared I am of flying. Jeesh, I had two drinks, with my Ativan, his touch lit me on fire. Oh shit, Mel. All he did was hold my hand and squeeze my knee.”
At this point, I should feel bad about listening in but I don’t. I need to be sure it wasn’t all an act. Five hundred million dollars is at stake. A lot more if you count going public.
I hold my breath and press my ear closer, straining to hear as she paces away, probably into the bathroom.
“Well, his thumb did kind of caress in just the right place but seriously. I went off like a grenade. You cannot believe how hot this guy is.”
A moan escapes me and my stupid cock goes to full throttle.
“Huh? Staying in the room next to mine. But why would he lie? I’m so fucking confused… I know, I know. Women like us need to be careful… No, I won’t sleep with him, I promise. Thanks, Mel. Love you, too.”
Dammit. After she hangs up, her door slams and I peek out mine in time to see her take the elevator, laptop in tow. Then, I pace inside my hotel room, trying to figure out what to do next.
And what did she mean when she said, women like us?
~~~
The flight back to New York was awkward to say the least.
Thankfully, Isabella fell asleep so I wasn’t subjected to the frigid tone she’d used on me for the last three days.
I can’t say she wasn’t professional, though. Hell, the woman was so spot-on that she had the government eating out of her hands. All I had to do was get them to sign on the dotted line and later today I’ll hand the contract over to legal.
However, now her coat is wedged between our seats as a barrier, making sure our bodies don’t touch. This kind of rejection is completely new to me. Usually, when women discover my family is worth billions, I can’t get rid of them. That’s probably why I want her so badly.
Still, I’m dying to know what she meant by women like us. What is she into? Maybe there’s a group of women that tries to sue companies like mine. That might also explain the threats I’ve been getting. But would they actually try to kill me?
That sounds unlikely.
While she sleeps, I text Praveel.
Me: What did you find out about Ms. Harte?
Praveel: Not much. Check your email.
I do and the air goes out of my chest. She has a live-in boyfriend. What a lying, cheating bitch. Now, it’s clear to me that she’s got some agenda. I don’t know what she’s up to but I’m putting an end to it. My dad worked long and hard for this company and I promised him I would take it public before he dies.
“Thanks. Keep me updated.”
I figure it’s time to let Xavier in on why I’m here in New York. Obviously, he’s not the bad guy I first thought. I walk into his office where he’s sitting with his feet up on the desk, listening on speaker phone.
He sits up and presses mute. “Hey, Grayson. Come on in. How was your trip?”
“Good. Went well. I sent the contract to legal. There’s so many billable hours we’ll need to talk about getting a few more new-hires.”
“Was Ms. Harte adequate?”
“She did a good job, why?”
He unmutes, says a quick bye, and hangs up the phone. “Nothing. I’ve just never thought of her as competent with customer interactions.”
“In what way?”
“She just doesn’t click the way the men, do. You know. And, I think she may have a problem. Maybe she drinks. And she’s too butch, not feminine enough. She needs to wear heels, a bit of makeup, soften her looks. That would go a long way in making her more successful.”
I sit and scratch my stubble. “Why didn’t you talk to Jeanine if you were worried about her drinking?”
“I would but you know how women stick together. Besides you can’t fire alcoholics. It’s a disease. You need to get them help and that raises insurance rates. It’s better to fire them for incompetence and I’m working on that.”
Damn. The guy sounds so much like my dad, I squirm. That isn’t the way I run my companies. However, I am trusting Isabella with a multimillion dollar account.
I need to find out more but when I call the former HR director, Jeanine Kaplin, it goes to voicemail.