Means (Office Roulette, Book One) by Kennedy Layne (15)

It was clear that Smith had stunned Laurel with his declaration of love. Honestly, he’d shocked himself with his unorthodox timing. The office was no place to have this conversation.

“Don’t say anything quite yet,” Smith directed when she parted her lips in surprise. He wasn’t finishing this discussion here. “Let’s manage to get through today, and we’ll talk more tonight over those rose petals.”

“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and—”

“Smith? I only have thirty minutes this morning,” Catherine stated from her sudden presence in the doorway. It was a wonder that she wasn’t tapping the toe of her high heel. There was absolutely no remorse for interrupting his and Laurel’s private conversation. In fact, her striking blue eyes had a gleam of satisfaction shining brightly as her gaze skimmed over Laurel in judgement. “I saw the receptionist come this way to deliver my message, so I figured you were back this way somewhere.”

“Catherine, you can wait for me in the foyer or my office.” Smith dropped his hands from Laurel’s beautiful face, but he remained close. Catherine’s stare followed his movement, landing on where his fingers rested on Laurel’s hip. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Catherine seemed to weigh his words, almost as if she were going to argue with the merit of his edict. Though Manon Investments dealt with high net worth individuals all the time, it was rare that the clients were downright rude. It was more than apparent that she had an agenda here, but he wasn’t about to play her childish games. She was worse to deal with than a pit of ravenous vipers.

“Fine,” Catherine responded, though it was clear she wasn’t okay with his decision to place her in a box. He wouldn’t deny that she was stunning in a red pantsuit, with beautiful accessories that screamed garish wealth. It was too bad she couldn’t buy a bit of class with the money in her bank account. She didn’t hold a candle to Laurel. “I’ll see if the receptionist can manage a decent cup of coffee.”

Smith sighed and rubbed his eyes in frustration.

“Well, this day isn’t going as planned.” Smith turned so that he could lean back against Laurel’s desk while facing her. He wanted to gauge her reaction and ensure that she wasn’t about to book a flight to New York. “What are your thoughts, little minx?”

“That you should really go and take that meeting before she burns down the building.” Laurel pulled her hair over her right shoulder. Her gesture spoke volumes. She grabbed the coffee that had been on her desk as if it were a lifeline. “I have a feeling that she’s going to pull her funds early and reinvest somewhere more responsive to her needs.”

“And you’ll still be here when I’m through?”

“Of course, I will.”

Laurel seemed to take offense at his question, but he was on a playing field that wasn’t quite level. His family had welcomed her into their home. The intimacy they shared had become even more familiar, if that were even possible. Their relationship had gradually moved forward in the most gratifying way.

“If you’re wary of us working together, then I’ll just have to move the firm to New York.”

Smith had learned early on in his life that nothing couldn’t be overcome with enough effort. He would move mountains if it meant keeping her in his life.

“Smith, you can’t be serious about that—”

“No?” Smith asked, quite taken aback that she would question such an announcement. “If your hesitation lies in us working together while being personally involved, then I’ll move my firm to New York. You said yourself that you have prospects lined up in the city, so that’s where we’ll go. I’ll have my lawyers start the process by the end of the business day.”

“Smith, stop,” Laurel exclaimed as she held up one hand, setting down the coffee she’d just picked up. She was also shaking her head and frowning at him as if his proposal was ludicrous. “Can’t you see that this is part of the problem? Money can’t solve everything.”

“No, it doesn’t. Wealth has nothing to do with this, and until you realize that, we’ll continue to circle this issue in an endless loop.” Smith didn’t bother to point out that money did make things a hell of a lot easier. That wouldn’t help his cause at the moment. He needed to stick to the facts, because that was the only way he had a chance to get her to see that what they had was more important than anything monetary. “It’s our decisions that affects our present and future. Us. Money is just a byproduct of our labors. We’re not what we do.”

Smith wanted to delve deeper into this conversation, but Paul would inevitably come looking for him. This was too important of a discussion to skim over. What else could he do or say that would cause Laurel to see that the only thing standing in their way was her own insecurities?

“Our jobs, where we live, what we make…take it all away. We’re still two people who’ve connected in the most intimate way possible.” Smith slowly reached out to touch her beautiful face, having not one doubt that she belonged in his life. “You are so confident in every other aspect of your life except for when it comes to me.”

There was nothing left to say in this moment, because anything else he tried to convey would just be lost in the day to day operations that awaited them.

“We’ll talk more tonight,” Smith said softly, gently pressing his lips against her forehead. “You know me well enough that I’m not a man to give in at the first sign of troubled waters.”

Take it all away. We’re still two people who’ve connected in the most intimate way.

Smith’s words continued to echo in Laurel’s mind over and over again until she couldn’t take another moment alone in her office. She grabbed what was now a cold cup of coffee that Grace had supplied her with and went in search of some type of moral support.

Could it really be that simple?

She considered herself a highly intelligent person. Hell, she could even checkmate Nathaniel Gallo in five moves on the chess board when he’d underestimated her as a player. So how was it that she couldn’t get out of her own way to claim the happiness that Smith was obviously offering her with his whole heart?

Marilyn was at her desk, typing vigorously away on her keyboard. A quick peek in the trading room showed Steve on the phone, with Vern sitting in the other seat and helping out the best he could, given that Josh had resigned from the firm and left them in a lurch. Blair was in her office on the other side, but Grace was nowhere to be found.

Laurel detoured into the kitchen, taking the white lid off the plastic cup before warming it up in the microwave. She then covered the rim before seeking out Cynthia, who was almost always in her office.

Sure enough, Cynthia was focused on whatever document was displayed on her monitor. The black rimmed reading glasses matched the color of her hair and both were striking against her red lipstick. How could she look so put together when Laurel was practically coming apart at the seams?

“Am I materialistic?” Laurel asked, taking the guest chair across from Cynthia. “Seriously, do I put a value on money where there shouldn’t be any?”

“You’re only materialistic when it comes to high heels, as well you should be. Especially considering your predilection for high-end brands.” Cynthia continued to scroll through the document she was viewing on the bright display, not even bothering to look Laurel’s way. “Do I think you give too much deference to the wealthy? Absolutely.”

Laurel both admired and loathed Cynthia’s bluntness.

“Smith’s currently in a meeting with Paul and Catherine Greenlee. He, um…well, he said he loved me before he left my office and referenced me as his future wife.”

Now that bit of news garnered Cynthia’s attention, who slowly allowed her chair to turn toward her desk. She ever so carefully removed her glasses and held them gently in her hands as she let Laurel’s words soak in.

“Please tell me that you reciprocated his declaration and concurred with his views toward the future Mrs. Gallo.”

Cynthia closed her eyes in disbelief when Laurel didn’t respond. What could she say? That she was scared shitless her entire life was about to change, and she could lose the person she was before she met Smith? She wasn’t even sure she remembered who Laurel Calanthe was before meeting Smith Gallo. Focusing on her career had been much easier than the crossroads she currently found herself at today.

“In my defense, Catherine Greenlee sought Smith out in my office before I could formulate an appropriate response,” Laurel said, stretching the truth just a bit. She leaned forward in the chair to justify her reasoning. “I’m not about to confess my undying love in an office building with Catherine Greenlee in attendance to disapprovingly witness a private moment that should be cherished.”

“So you do love the infamous Smith Gallo?” Cynthia tilted her head just so, allowing the black strands of her hair to frame her heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes practically glistened with satisfaction. “It’s about damned time you realized that. Hold on. I think I won the pool. I’ll have to check my ticket. Let’s face it, that man has done everything short of renting a private plane and flying you to Paris to get you to see the light.”

Cynthia set her reading glasses on one of the numerous files on her desk before standing and walking her way around so that she joined Laurel in one of the two guest chairs.

“Laurel, it’s clear that he loves you for who you are. He took you home to his family, he’s practically moved you into his apartment, and it’s evident that he sees you as an equal in business and life. Only you see yourself on another level that technically doesn’t really even exist. So my advice?” Cynthia reached over the arm of the chair to pat Laurel’s knee. “Don’t throw away what he’s offering you because of self-doubt. You’ve come too far to cheat yourself out of every young girl’s fantasy. You can have it all, Laurel. That is, if you can work it out to get out of your own damned way.”

Laurel didn’t get to respond. A small commotion came down the hallway, with fellow employees leaving their offices to see what was taking place. She and Cynthia shared a look of concern before joining the others in the corridor, but it was the significant police presence in the large foyer that held everyone’s attention.

Laurel immediately sought out Smith, who was coming out of the conference room behind Paul and Catherine. His gaze searched the crowd, displaying relief when he found her.

“What’s going on here?” Paul asked, most likely having been summoned by Marilyn. The older woman was standing behind her desk with her fingers pressed to her lips in shock. “Detective Nielsen, I asked a question.”

“Where is Grace Dorrance?”

“I’m sure she’s in her—”

“I’m right here.” Grace came around the corner of the trading room, a look of skepticism and fear written across her pale features. “What happened?”

“Grace Dorrance, you’re under arrest for the murder of Brad Manon.” Detective Nielson nodded toward one of the two officers who’d accompanied him into the building. “You have the right to remain…”

“I’ll go call Rye Marshall,” Cynthia muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s all his fault that she’s in this predicament to begin with.”

That was most likely true, but Detective Nielsen didn’t seem the type of officer to arrest someone without evidence.

What had the police found to link Grace to Brad?

Laurel closed the distance to Smith as she watched on in horror as the officer turned Grace around so that he could put her in handcuffs. This somehow seemed even more surreal than walking into Brad’s office and finding him with his throat slashed.

“Smith, we have to do something.” Laurel understood that Meg couldn’t represent the entire office, but Josh had been given someone just as reputable. “I can’t believe this is happening. I need to go with her.”

“Good luck with that,” Catherine Greenlee stated in a tone that was feigned sympathy. She even straightened her shoulders as if her comment gave her strength. “It seems I’m pulling my money out at just the right time, now, doesn’t it? I’m sure Smith will have a better handle on his collection of employees when he opens his firm.”

Laurel wanted to get into the woman’s surgically enhanced face and tell her to shove her precious money up her own ass, but Smith’s hand resting on her lower back prevented her from stooping to that level.

Somehow, in this very moment, everything became crystal clear.

Money wasn’t the root of all evil.

People had a choice on whether to live their lives with good intentions. Manon Investments had a lot of clients who used their wealth for the good of humanity around the world—Gareth Nicollet being just one of them. She’d even heard Smith on the phone arranging various donations to some of the community centers around the city, though he requested his contributions remain anonymous. He wasn’t seeking attention for himself, but rather doing his part to build a better community—her community.

“What’s the saying?” Laurel murmured to Smith, who already had his car keys in hand. He was going to go with her to the police station. That small gesture caused her to believe that everything was going to be okay. First, there was something she needed to take care of before leaving the building. She was going to hell, anyway. She might as well enjoy the trip. “It’s better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.”

Catherine was still watching Grace being led away in handcuffs and escorted into the elevator when Laurel stood in front of the woman so that nothing she said could be misunderstood.

It was common knowledge that Manon Investments couldn’t survive without Brad Manon to run the ship. Hedge funds were only as good as the portfolio manager. Normally, there would be a no-compete clause for anyone who chose to leave a firm such as this one, but that directive was no longer in play under the circumstances.

Catherine Greenlee no doubt assumed that she had a home for the money she’d placed into Manon Investments.

Well, that was no longer the case.

“Catherine, I don’t believe Gallo Capital Management will be the right fit for you.” Laurel genuinely smiled at the woman’s confusion. Catherine even glanced toward Smith, as if to say he should do something about his lover. “I suggest taking your money and investing it into some etiquette classes or maybe a charm school, seeing as there are just some things money can’t buy.”

Smith mouth tilted at the corner, having understood exactly what Laurel had been referring to about forgiveness. After all, she’d just cost his new firm around four hundred million dollars.

“It seems as if you’ll have to look elsewhere for your investments, Catherine. Now, if you’ll excuse us, a friend of ours is in need.”

Laurel would have relished having Smith escort her through the glass doors and toward the elevator, but her purse was still in her office. She didn’t look back to see if Catherine was trying to speak with Paul or if she’d stormed out of the foyer in anger. The woman was no longer a blip on Laurel’s radar. Out of sight, out of mind.

“You are hell on fashionable heels, my little minx.” Smith pulled her into his arms the moment they were in private, kissing her passionately. After a minute, he finally allowed both of them to come up for air. “Does this mean you’re going to be a part of Gallo Capital Management?”

“Yes,” Laurel answered, a weight coming off her shoulders. It was freeing to finally shed all the doubts and insecurities that had plagued her for so long. “Yes, I’ll take the position. Yes, I want to be an initial shareholder. Yes, I love you, Smith Gallo. And not necessarily in that order.”

Laurel laughed when Smith wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her high heels off the ground. The prospects for their future were endless, and the exhilaration made her want to call it a day and head back to his place. She would have loved to curl up in his bed, spending the afternoon reveling in what should have been a celebratory moment.

“Grace will be fine,” Smith assured when her laughter faded and reality began to intrude. “Grab your purse, and we’ll head down to the station. I’ll give Meg a call to see if she can recommend a criminal attorney who can handle something of this magnitude.”

She couldn’t imagine what Grace was going through at the moment. Brad’s murder had touched everyone in some way or other, but this arrest made it more than personal. Someone close to Laurel was about to have her life turned upside down. That was unacceptable.

“Smith?” Laurel stopped him from turning toward the door after he’d collected her purse. “Grace isn’t a murderer. She isn’t. We need to find out who killed Brad before Grace is blamed for a murder she didn’t commit.”

“We’ll talk about this on the way to the station.”

Smith had already pulled out his phone and would have placed a call if Laurel hadn’t taken the device from his hands. There was one more loose end she needed to tie up.

“Once we get things settled with Grace, I’d like to make a stop before we go home.” Smith gave Laurel an inquisitive look. He was most likely expecting her request to have something to do with Grace, but this was a matter close to her heart and long overdue. “It’s time for you to meet my mother, Harvard boy.”

~ THE END ~

Thank you so much for reading the first book in the Office Roulette series! Grace and Rye’s story continues in Motive, and you won’t want to miss the next installment of this trilogy…

Rye Marshall had it all—wealth, prominence, and the love of his life. But nothing lasts forever, and his perfect world came crashing down around him. When the dust settled, he found himself alone and starting from a clean slate.

Grace Dorrance had made many mistakes in her life, but one stood out above the rest—an epic ending to a complex and passionate relationship. She left her former lover’s life in complete ruins and tried her best never to look back at the wreckage.

Seconds chances are hard to come by, but even more difficult when Grace is arrested for a murder she didn’t commit. This gives Rye the perfect motive to forgive and forget, allowing for new beginnings. Unfortunately, someone’s playing a game of office roulette with everyone’s lives.