CHAPTER TWO

Mia

The past, two and a half years ago…

I leave the first day of my job as an associate with my head spinning. The Bennett firm is a massive operation, expanding across the world, and even outside the legal profession, which I now know is driven by the heir-apparent son. Grayson Bennett apparently wants to rule the world and he’s succeeding. It’s exciting to have this much opportunity after being stuck in a small firm that had a ceiling, thanks to my finances forcing me to attend a small school part-time to get my law degree. Finally, I’ve opened doors to a better future. Finally, I have the chance to yank my father out of poverty in Brooklyn.

Exiting the elevator, I start thinking about the case that I was put on today and how to approach winning. I need to have a plan that helps the partner I’m working under. I need to prove I can handle my own cases, the way I did at my prior firm. I hurry toward the exit and push through the glass doors on a mission. Home. Work. Research. I turn right and collide with a hard wall with such force it rattles my teeth.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, as strong hands come down on my shoulders, while my hands have now settled on the broad chest of a man wearing an expensive three-piece suit. “I’m sorry. I was—” I lose that thought as I look up into his green eyes and my lips part in stunned shock. He’s gorgeous. Perfect. Overwhelmingly perfect.

“No apology needed,” he says softly and oh so very intimately, or maybe I’m imagining that because come on. What girl doesn’t want this man to speak to her and only her? “In fact,” he adds. “I think this is the best part of my really crappy day.”

I swallow hard. “I uh—don’t know how to reply to that.”

The man to his right clears his throat. “We’ll meet you upstairs,” he says and only then do I even realize that this gorgeous man is standing in between two other men, but I don’t look at them. Not when he’s still looking at me and ignoring them. Not when his hands are still on my shoulders. The two men leave.

“Have a drink with me later,” my newfound sexy stranger says, a push that is almost a command in his voice. He’s older than me, thirty-five I think, while I’m twenty-seven, and he radiates the kind of confidence I need to own myself. He’s no associate. He’s no subordinate to anyone and I like this about him.

“I don’t even know your name,” I say.

One corner of his really delicious mouth curves and he says, “You will tonight. If you show up. Meet me at Morrell Wine Bar at eight. You owe me the date for running into me, but I’ll buy the wine.” He reaches up and strokes my cheek. “You have beautiful blue eyes, by the way.” And then he leaves me there, stunned and warm all over.

When I can finally walk again, I’m not sure what to do. He has to work for Bennett. Am I allowed to date a co-worker? I don’t even know. I hurry toward the subway, and I try to reason with myself. He might not work for Bennett. Maybe he’s just using their services. I haven’t dated in a year. I’ve been too busy. I’m too busy now, but—there is just something about that man. He’s inspiration for all I want and need to be. He owns who he is and what he is. You know this even without knowing him. I need to breathe that in, I need to have a glass of wine with that man.

***

Grayson

I’m packing up my office with one thing on my mind—the woman with the gorgeous blue eyes—when Eric walks in, his jacket gone, his sleeves rolled up to expose his tattooed arms. My father hates those tattoos, but then he doesn’t understand that Eric isn’t a master investor and project manager, because his father owns an empire that he walked away from. It’s because of the depth of his life experiences; and those tattoos represent years in the military while his Harvard degree is a product of the mastermind with numbers and strategy he’s proven himself to be over and over. More so, his honesty and character make him a friend I trust.

“Your father is on a rampage,” he says. “He’s pissed about—well—everything.”

“That usually means people get things done right next time.”

“True,” he says. “Though I prefer your quiet intolerance.” I round the desk and he offers me a folder. “Those numbers you wanted on the building acquisition in Atlanta. They look good. I’d do it.”

“Then we’ll do it. Make it happen.”

“After you look at the numbers. We’re good because we see different things on paper. I don’t want to sign off until I know what you see.”

I nod. “Fair enough. I’ll let you know in the morning.”

“You’re going to see that woman.”

“I am.”

“She’s a new associate.”

I arch a brow. “You checked?”

“Of course I checked. You’re a fucking heir to a billionaire who’s just made his own personal billion.”

“With your help,” I concede, “we’ve both taken a chunk of change and turned it into a whole lot more for this place and ourselves. For me, that’s living up to my father’s expectations. For you, it’s a ‘fuck you’ to your father.”

“And I want many more,” he says. “My job is to watch your ass. I emailed you her file and then some.”

“I’m not going to look at that. I’ll know all I need to know when I’m with her.” I start walking. I’d suspected she might work for the company, which is exactly why I booked our meet-up in my apartment building, not the offices.

“For the record,” Eric calls out behind me, “on paper she’s one of two things: the best thing that ever happened to you or the worst.”

I stop at the door and look at him. “Sounds like the beginning of anything new.” I turn and exit the office, and I don’t even think about looking at that email. There is something about this woman that speaks to me. I can’t explain it, but I don’t want it ruined. I want it pure and I want to learn about her from her.

My car service is waiting on me and in roughly ten minutes, I’m exiting in front of my Central Park building. I hand the doorman my briefcase and tip him well enough to have him ensure my bag makes it to my apartment safely. Nix is a good man, who’s been here the entire five years I have. I trust him. I always surround myself with people I trust, at every level.

I enter the bar, which is an intimate location with low hanging lights, a triangle-shaped bar, and booths lining the walls. I don’t choose a booth. I head to the bar that allows me a view of the entire place and control. I also always choose control. I’ve barely sat down when the bartender sets my usual in front of me, an expensive whiskey they custom order for me. I’m not a man of extravagance by nature, but this whiskey is worth every dime I spend on it.

She walks in before I even take a sip, still wearing the same navy-blue suit dress that while conservative and appropriate for work, has a zipper that slides down the front. I noticed, but then I also noticed the tiny freckle on the corner of her eye. She looks around, scanning for me, and the curl of her fingers into her palms tells me she’s nervous. She spots me and inhales a telling breath. Yes, she’s nervous.

She walks in my direction and I watch every step, admiring her long, slender legs and the sway of her hips. I want this woman. I want her naked. I want her beneath me and I want to know who and what she is, and I have to know. I am a man with much to lose and she is too close to me and my company for me to wade blindly into anything. She stops at the seat next to me.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” I say, finding her charming and sweet as few women strike me these days, and yet, intelligent. I see that in her eyes. “I’m glad you came.”

She doesn’t attempt to sit down. “I almost didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a lot on the line. I can’t blow this job. I’ve been thinking about this and I need to know why you were at the Bennett building.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because I’m new there and I don’t want to break any rules. So, before I sit down, I need to know if I really should.”

I am a man who doesn’t just like to trust people. I expect people to be honest. Because like my father, I’m honest, even when it makes my life harder. I like where she’s going so far, but that doesn’t mean my name won’t show a side of her I won’t like.

I stand up and my hands go to her waist. I turn her, placing her back to the bar, my body pinning her to it. “I appreciate your desire to follow the rules. Bennett allows inter-office relationships because I don’t believe it’s realistic to believe people can work together seventy hours a week, in a company this big, and never cross that line. I simply expect that they handle it professionally and let HR know.”

She blinks. “I’m confused. You believe and expect?”

“What is your name?” I ask.

“Mia,” she says, and like the good attorney she should be, she immediately circles back to her question. “I’m confused. You said—”

“I’m Grayson.”

Her eyes go wide. “Grayson? As in—”

“Grayson Bennett,” I supply.

“Oh my God.” She pales. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would that have mattered?”

“Would it have mattered?” she asks incredulously. “Of course it would have mattered. I’m not trying to climb the ladder by climbing you.”

I laugh. “Is that right?”

“Yes. It is. Please let me off the bar. I need to leave. Please, Grayson. I mean, Mr. Bennett.”

I rotate us so that we’re side by side, and she’s no longer trapped, but my hands stay at her waist, hers on my chest when I want them all over my body. “Grayson,” I say. “I hate Mr. Bennett. And I don’t want you to leave, Mia. You interest me. I hope you’re interested and not because of who I am.”

“I am. I was, but how do I take that out of the equation?”

“I’m just a man.”

“A billionaire.”

“I’m just a man who wants to know you. Genuinely wants to know you and I can promise you that nothing between us will ever affect your job but neither does you walking away right now.” I release her, but our legs are still touching and her hands don’t leave my chest.

“I’m very confused right now.” She leans back and her hands slide from my chest, but she doesn’t step away. “I was interested in knowing you or I wouldn’t have come here, but you being you, I need to think about this.”

“I can live with that answer. Put my number in your phone. Then you can call me. You can decide what happens next.”

“But you’re my boss.”

“Not directly. Let me have your phone.”

She hesitates. I hate that she hesitates, but she reaches into her purse and hands me her phone. It rings and “Dad” comes up on her caller ID. “Sorry,” she says and punches the decline button.

“You could have taken it,” he says. “Fathers are important.”

She tilts her head and studies me. “You’re close to your father, too?”

“Very. As I was with my mother who I lost far too long ago.”

She doesn’t immediately respond and seems to weigh her words before she says, “I lost mine last year. I know it—it hurts. My dad is really struggling with it.”

“Mine still does as well,” I say, aware that it took my father well over a year to resemble anything I knew as him. “You should call your father back. You don’t want him to worry.”

“I’ll call him in a few minutes. He knows I work long hours. See, that’s just it. That’s what I need you to know before I walk out of this bar. It’s not because I want to. It’s because I have to. I worked my way through school. I got accepted to two Ivy League colleges, but I couldn’t go part-time or pay the tuition. I had to work for a tiny firm for two years to prove I can win cases just to get this job. And I can win. I was a good hire. I’ll do a good job for you. And I can’t blow that or risk being ‘that’ girl in the legal circles.”

I let her story sink in. She could easily be someone who looks for a gravy train, but she’s not and this isn’t a show for her. She’s not playing me. She’s rejecting me, and I don’t intend to let that happen. I’m still holding her phone and put my number in it, but I don’t give it back to her. “I don’t sleep with or date women my company employs.”

“Why me?”

“You interest me, now more than ever.” I cup her face. “I’m going to kiss you now unless you tell me to stop.”

“I don’t think you should do that.”

“That’s not stop, Mia.”

“I know,” she whispers, and my mouth closes down on hers, and the moment I taste her on my tongue, I know that I want more. And when she gives a tiny little whimper and leans into me, I know she does too, but still, I pull back and press her phone into her hand.

“You have my number. Call me, but know this, Mia. The next time I kiss you, I won’t stop.”