Barclay

“Trevor, compile last month’s revenue for all fiction and non-fiction new releases. Have them on my desk by tomorrow at noon,” I order my cousin, giving him a don’t-fuck-with-me stare across the conference table.

Thankfully, the meeting is over, because staying professional is near impossible knowing how Trevor treated Tessa last week. I wanted to reach over the table and punch that smirk off his slimy face. The jerk knows how to get under my skin.

Running late for my next meeting, I leave the room and start walking down the hallway. Trevor catches up with me, but I pretend he doesn’t exist.

“Have you heard about the new junior marketing hire?” he asks, but I keep ignoring him. My jaw tightens when he doesn’t get the message that I have nothing to say.

“She’s a sweet southern belle,” he continues in a teasing tone. I stop at the boardroom door leading to my next meeting, and unfortunately, he does too. “You’ll get to meet her now. She’s just behind that door.”

“What’s your problem, man?” I turn to face him, and a sickening smile spreads across his face.

“I don’t have a problem, but you’re about to.” He cackles like a crazy person, walking away from me without another word. He’s totally lost it this time.

I enter the room and find my marketing director, Reece Young, at the head of the table. “Sorry to be late. Accounting’s conference ran longer than usual. What did I miss?”

“We have some exciting news,” Reece says, standing up and moving around the back of the table. She stops behind the chair of a blonde wearing glasses. Shaking my head, I do a double-take and blink, not understanding what I’m seeing in front of me. “I’d like you to meet Contessa Holly. Our new junior marketing manager.”

Reece smiles brightly, as pleased as punch. Me? I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. And “Contessa?” She looks ghostly pale.

“Tessa?” Her name spills out of my mouth before I can stop it, but deep down, I know it’s her. She’s wearing pink, and a grave expression, feeling the weight of the moment just like me.

“You two know each other?” Reece asks, glancing back and forth between Tessa and me. Her eyes narrow, assessing us, then there’s a flash of curiosity. The tension in the air thickens, pressing against my lungs. I tug at my collar.

How the hell do I answer Reece’s question?

I can’t tell her I stayed the night in Tessa’s room and planned to know her in the biblical sense this evening after dinner. The thought of her lying on my bed, ready and waiting for me to make her mine, helped me push through this morning’s dull meetings. Now, she’s a forbidden fruit I’ll never be able to taste.

“Um, we met at the hotel. In the restaurant.” Tessa saves me with a reply we can work with, hopefully removing any suspicious thought from Reece’s mind. What a fucked-up mess.

“That’s right.” I force a smile, trying to make our meeting seem inconsequential, which is a boldface lie. The second my eyes connected with Tessa’s, my life pivoted into the before and after I found her.

Dammit. We’re royally fucked. The rules are clear. I’m the king of the company. Everyone is off limits to me.

Somehow, I take my seat at the other end of the boardroom table, running my fingers through my hair. My gaze stays on Tessa, still not fully believing she’s here in this room.

Her blond hair is twisted on top of her head, and she spins an escaped lock around her slender finger. A profound sadness is etched across her face, making my chest ache. When her eyes cloud, she looks down at the table, closing them. I fight the urge to drag her out of the room and into my office.

I need to know how this happened. Has she been using me or my name this entire time to get a job? The thought doesn’t ring true to the Tessa I know, but I’ve been played many times in my thirty-seven years.

“Miss Holly was sharing a dynamic marketing idea with us,” Reece says. “I’m very impressed.”

I glance around the table. Everyone but Tessa has a hopeful smile on their face. They’re all thrilled to have her here.

At this point, the initial shock is wearing off, simmering into anger. I’m angry with Tessa for keeping this from me. I’m angry with myself for falling for her. But mostly, I’m furious I’ll never have her in my arms again, where I thought she belonged.

“Well, Miss Holly, it appears you’ve dazzled everyone. Tell me how you plan to help us grab twenty-somethings for Hammond Press. I’m dying to know,” I clip, a harsh edge to my voice.

Across the length of the boardroom table, Reece tilts her head, raising a defined brow at me. I ignore her and turn my focus back to Tessa.

“Well, I have an idea that still needs flushing out.” She wipes her eyes and clears her throat. Fuck, she’s crying.

“Are you okay, Miss Holly?” Reece asks, pushing a box of tissues toward her.

“Thank you,” Tessa says, dabbing her eyes. “Allergies. Not used to the New York City air yet.”

Again, Reece scrutinizes the two of us. She’s smart, intuitive, and dangerous to me at this point. I need to take my tone down and act like Tessa is a normal new hire—not the woman I’ve fallen for who possibly deceived me.

“Take your time,” I say, more reserved and patient. Tessa regards me and mouths two powerful words, “I’m sorry.” But for what?

After composing herself, Tessa begins.

“Right now, Shakespurr has one hundred thousand plus followers on Instagram. We can build buzz off it. Connect it to my blog and change the name to Hamming It Up. Then ask the audience to send photos of themselves reading Hammond books.

“For instance, we could post a photo of Don Black’s book being read at a Paris café or Steven Queen’s at Buckingham palace. The readers will love the attention and tag. Win. Win.” Tessa sits back in her chair, her shoulders slumping, as if she has nothing else to give.

I can’t deny I’m impressed with her idea and the fact that she has so many built-in followers. Most importantly, I didn’t have any clue she was behind the Shakespurr blog Don referred to and even named his cat after. It’s another secret she kept from me. How many more are there?

“Promising,” I say, summing up her presentation with muted enthusiasm.

“You’re kidding, right?” Reece cuts in, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Mr. Hammond, I’m having her work on this concept this afternoon. Your approval or not.”

“Have at it. Anything else I need to know?” I ask, waving a hand in a roundabout motion, signaling it’s time to move the agenda on from the new junior executive.

I don’t want to hear another word from Tessa until I have her behind closed doors and up against the wall … and, with that thought, my dick comes to life. Traitor.

Reece discusses promoting Don’s recent Warwick Award win, that thankfully no one here attended. Then the meeting adjourns, and everyone leaves the room except Reece, Tessa, and me.

Reece stands next to Tessa, talking softly to her and looking my way. She’s likely telling Tessa I don’t normally act like such a jackass, and it’s true. I have a reputation for being tough but fair—not a person who shoots down a new hire on their first damn day. I drag my fingers through my hair, which is probably looking as disastrous as this morning.

“Ms. Young.” Reece and Tessa turn my way. One looks at me confused, the other totally dejected. “Could I have a few minutes with Miss Holly to chat with her personally? Call it a post hire interview.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Reece says, nodding. “You two need to get to know each other.”

I hold back a mocking laugh at Reece’s words. Yeah, we know each other pretty damn well. If I close my eyes, I can still hear Tessa’s cries as she falls apart underneath me.

“Follow me, Miss Holly,” I snap, walking out of the room. My fists are clenched so tight, my knuckles are turning white.

“Yes, sir,” she says, and I bite back my anger.

“It’s time you told me how you ended up here at Hammond Press,” I lead her inside my office, closing the door behind us. “First wearing a trench coat, and now sitting at a boardroom table with me.”