CHAPTER TWENTY
Zachary
Right then, the shit hit the fan, and it sprayed all over me.
Juliana turned on her heel and headed for the door.
Dropping my celery — I would fucking rather eat cardboard than celery, but I was doing it for her — I shoved Gavin in the arm to get past him. “What. The. Fuck, man?” I growled as I tore after her.
Gavin just stood there, his eyes like saucers. Really? I thought we’d had that discussion, and he wouldn’t try for her. Especially at a fucking business meeting. I wanted to punch his fucking lights out.
“Hey, wait,” I said, grabbing Juliana’s arm in the lobby of the building.
Many of the board members were out there, making their way to and from the restrooms. I tried to keep my voice low, but it was so quiet out there that even the smallest whisper seemed to echo. When she ripped her arm away from me, several of them stopped and stared, concerned.
I tried to explain, but she cut me off.
“Don’t,” she snapped. But she didn’t try to run again. She sighed, instead, running her hand through her hair. “Are you going to answer me? Is that what the money was? Did you think I was a prostitute?”
I closed my eyes. Only when she said it did I realize how wrong, how incredibly stupid it all was. “Yes. No. It’s…”
Disgust poured over her features, and she opened her mouth, likely to tell me I was a piece of shit, which at that point I fully agreed with.
I spoke over her. “Listen. Not a prostitute. An escort.”
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is…” Probably not a hell of a lot in her book. I was splitting hairs. “An escort is someone who accompanies a man to an event. It doesn’t necessarily mean…”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “But usually?”
I scraped a hand down my face. “Yeah. Usually.”
“And with me, you expected…”
I reached for her, but she took a step back. “Not expected. Hoped.”
The disgust stayed there. “And… you do that a lot?”
“No. Actually not in years.”
“Oh, my god, really?” She threw up her hands and regarded me like I was a piece of shit. “That’s just typical. It’s all about money to you, isn’t it? Make things as cheap as possible, who cares how badly everyone else suffers, as long as you line your wallet and can buy whatever or whoever you want.”
“No. I don’t. I mean, I hadn’t done it in years. Honest. I just…” I took a deep breath. “I needed a date for the gala, so I hired a woman. A woman who, by the pictures, looked just like you. She had your name, even. Jewel.”
She stared at me with her brow knitted.
“Escorts are beautiful, dream women,” I explained. “And you are a beautiful woman, Juliana. And yes, I wanted to sleep with you. Not because I paid for you. Because I’m a man, and you’re gorgeous. And there was something between us that…” I shook my head, unable to find the words.
Her brow relaxed, and she sucked in a shaky breath.
“But you aren’t just that. You’re interesting and fun, and intelligent. I met you, and I was utterly blown away. I wanted to be with you again. So you have no fucking idea how happy I was when I found out that you weren’t an escort. Because it meant you were sleeping with me, not because I paid you, but because you wanted to. And I want to be with you too.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I had all that money in my closet. All this time, I thought you hadn’t called me because you weren’t interested. But you didn’t call because you’d paid me…”
My heart broke as the tip of her nose turned pink and her eyes grew glassy with tears. I had to make her understand.
“No. I tried to get in touch with you again. I even hired Jewel again because I wanted to be with you. And then she showed up, and… it wasn’t you.”
“And?”
I stared at her, confused. “And what?”
Her voice was small. “Did you sleep with her anyway?”
“Of course not. Who do you think I am?”
She shook her head sadly, her eyes not leaving mine. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Look. I may have money. And maybe I’ve used it for stupid things, but I want to provide a real contribution to society. Show me how.”
She studied me suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“Like my father said. Come with me to White Plains. Tour my facility. I know you think I’m the devil. But maybe you won’t think I’m such a bad guy after that.”
She pressed her lips together. “Doubtful.”
Just then, my father poked his head out into the hallway. “Zachary. We need to start now.”
I reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. She shrugged. “Fine. When?”
I looked back at the boardroom. The meeting was supposed to continue for the rest of the afternoon. But at that moment, nothing seemed more important than the woman in front of me. “Now.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What about—”
“Fuck that. This is more important. You took the day off from work, didn’t you?”
She nodded slowly.
“Well, let me make this worth your time. Come with me.”
She reached for her phone and checked the time. “All right. As long as I can be back in the city by five.”
By five. I wondered if she had a date. What the hell? When had I ever been jealous like that? “You’re on. Let me just tell my father and call a car, and we’ll head over there.”
I went back to the boardroom and explained things to my father. Shockingly, he wasn’t upset. In fact, he seemed more than happy to help me play hooky from the meeting I was supposed to be co-presiding over with him.
“You were right,” he murmured to me as I glared at Gavin across the room. “She is definitely something. But she doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
I laughed bitterly. I wonder why. I wasn’t entirely sure I could change that opinion, after what I’d done. But I was going to try my damnedest.
The car pulled up minutes after I called for it, and I ushered Juliana out to the sidewalk, busy with people rushing to their offices in the early afternoon. I let her slide in first and sat next to her, as she looked around, shaking her head.
“White Plains facility, Carl,” I said to the driver, then looked at her disbelieving expression. “What?”
“You just live a life that’s so… extra,” she said with a roll of her pretty eyes.
I knew what she was thinking. If she had that kind of money, she’d put it to much better use. Juliana, the saint. She wasn’t impressed. She disapproved.
“I don’t throw money away if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Well. I have ten thousand dollars on my bureau that says you do.”
I gnawed on my lip. Seven thousand, actually. This woman was going to be the death of me. Honestly, I’d never thought of that as a big amount of money. That’s what comes from growing up in a house that could easily fit twelve more families. From going to elementary school at a place that cost more in one semester than most people would pay for an entire four years at college. I guessed those things weren’t necessary… but like my father said, if you could afford it, why the hell skimp?
“YOLO,” I said with a grin, trying to lift the mood.
She rolled her eyes at me again. “Ugh. I hate that. That is quite possibly the most annoying acronym ever invented.”
I crossed my arms. “Why?”
“It is. Just because you only get one life, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look before you leap.”
“Hey.” I was beginning to take offense. “I do. But I also believe you should go out and grab life by the balls. Go on that vacation, eat the best steak, drink to total excess—”
“Hire a call girl,” she huffed.
She was really starting to get on my nerves, and for whatever reason, I didn’t think I’d ever been so turned on. She crossed her milky legs, and I realized she wasn’t wearing stockings. God, help me.
I tore my eyes away and hitched a shoulder. “Life’s too short.”
“And it’ll be even shorter if you die from a massive coronary when you’re fifty from eating one too many of those big steaks you’re so fond of.”
I barked out a laugh, even though it wasn’t very funny. Did she know about my father’s condition? Had he mentioned it to her in the boardroom? I hadn’t noticed them talking, but maybe he had. “Well. Do you ever want to break free? Take a chance? Or do you always play it safe?”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder in a sexy way. “You know what happened the last time I took a chance? I ended up at the Four Seasons with you.” She grinned at me and batted her eyelashes. “So, no more chances for me, I think.”
I grasped for my heart. “You wound me, Juliana.” I turned and looked out the window as we coasted over the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge. “I happen to think that that night with you was quite enjoyable.”
She let out an ironic laugh. “Well, I wasn’t one of your escorts.”
“Geez. I make one mistake, and—”
She snorted. “A pretty big mistake.”
Ah. I was so glad I could count on her to point that out.
“You ever finish that book?” I asked her.
She blinked at the change of subject. “The Christie?” When I nodded, she said, “Yes.”
“So then you know you were right.”
“Yep. It’s always the doctor.” Her eyes trailed to mine, and her voice was quieter. “And no… I don’t normally sleep with men I’ve just met. But everything that night… it was perfect. You were perfect.”
She was staring at me so earnestly that it made me feel like shit. “So were you.”
“Were you walking around that entire night, just knowing you were going to fuck me?”
“Like I said. I was hoping. Escorts don’t always. But if it’s right… and with us, it was right. I don’t think I’d ever…” I stopped short of saying, I don’t think I’d ever felt that way in my life. Because damn, that was Code Red for sure.
We arrived at the White Plains facility of Vaughn Industries, where we made most of our desserts. It was a massive, modern factory that had been built only a few years ago, and damned impressive, if I did say so myself. I’d personally overseen the building of it, making sure it had the most up-to-date conveniences so that the workers wouldn’t have to suffer unnecessarily. That was one of the things I was most proud of — our factory workers had very high satisfaction rates, and as a result, we had low turnover. My father had always treated our employees like family, and I did my best to continue that.
I stepped out of the car and offered my hand to her as she appeared in the door, but she didn’t take it. “It’s very nice and new.”
“Yeah. We employee five thousand at this location,” I explained as we walked past a line of stout bushes toward the entrance. “But we also have production facilities in Nashville and Phoenix. Our White Plains facility handles more of our deadly snack foods.”
I gave her a grin.
“Ha,” she deadpanned.
I guided her toward the massive open lobby, the walls of which were covered with a timeline of the Vaughn Industries legacy as well as artifacts and photographs from our history. Tania, our receptionist, was sitting behind a wide counter, as usual, typing into her computer.
She smiled broadly when I approached. “Zach!” she shrieked. “What a surprise! What brings you here today? Everyone will be so excited to see you.”
“Hey. Just giving an associate the grand tour.”
Tania clapped, bouncing on her heels excitedly. For a middle-aged lady, she had a way of acting like a kid, which was one of the things I liked most about her. “We love giving tours here at Vaughn Industries! And you get a lovely hairnet as a souvenir! Have fun!”
I sneaked a look at Juliana, who was frowning suspiciously. Maybe she thought I was paying her to be that happy. She stayed quiet as Tania buzzed us through the back door, where the whirring of machines could be heard. We stopped at a locker room, where I gave her a hairnet, white coat, smock, rubber gloves, goggles, and a pair of earplugs.
“You want me to wear all that?” she asked, incredulous as I piled all of it into her arms.
“Can’t be too careful. You’re going to want to stay behind the yellow lines, on the arrow. Okay?” I explained as some workers came by and gave me a high-five. “Hey, Joe. Dev.”
I helped her into the coat, and she wound her hair into a bun and tucked it into the net. “You know all your employees by name? All five thousand?”
I shook my head. “Most of them, though.” I pointed at the earplugs. “I won’t be able to talk to you much on the floor. It gets noisy when all the machines are going, which is pretty much twenty-four seven. Well, twenty-four six. We don’t work on Sundays.”
She nodded and slipped on the goggles and poked an earplug in each ear.
I led her down the hallway, to a large statue of our mascot, the large yellow cupcake in an apron and baker’s hat. “Care to take a selfie with Twinkle Joe?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Twinkle Joe?”
“Named after my grandfather, Joseph Vaughn, who started the company. I’ll take that as a no,” I said, brushing past the giant white emblem that was blasted on every package that came out of the building, giving him an affectionate pat on his round head.
I opened the door, and all the various machines’ thundering noises competed against one another. I didn’t bother with the earplugs because I was used to the sound. We’d had a smaller factory in Brooklyn up until three years ago, and I’d grown up there. I could still remember doing homework in the breakroom.
We followed the yellow line, which led us to the batter machine. “This is where we start,” I explained, waving at the workers manning it. “Six days a week, three shifts around the clock. The batter. It’s regular flour and sugar. Those workers will check the consistency of our recipe every fifteen minutes to ensure it’s airy enough. Air is pumped into each cake through those little pistons to ensure the light, fluffy texture our products are famous for.”
Her eyes narrowed behind her goggles as she watched the rows of tiny round cake pans being filled with white batter.
“This is our Twinkle Toe line,” I added, motioning her to follow me. I pointed across the expansive area. “We have a different machine for each of our products, but they all operate in essentially the same way. The Twinkle Toes are baked in a long oven that’s seventy feet wide for about fourteen minutes, and when they cool over here, they’re dumped and infused with our special secret cream recipe.”
I motioned her forward as she watched the cakes travel along the assembly line, transfixed. She was one of few people who could make goggles and a hair net look good.
“And then, of course, they pass through the chocolate waterfall. We bathe them in chocolate.”
She licked her lips, which was what most people did at this point of the tour. But on her, it was damned sexy.
She may have spit out that other cake, but I wouldn’t let anyone tell me that she didn’t have a sweet tooth. If I had to chip away at that hard shell of hers, I’d find it.
I led her down toward packaging, where the items were put two to a sleeve, then packaged in boxes and readied to ship, all the while greeting the employees and shouting explanations over the noise of the machine. “The entire process from batter to ship is about half an hour,” I explained.
She nodded as I led her to the end of the tour, which emptied out into our breakroom. I let her go first. Funny. Even though she was wearing a baggy coat and smock, I still couldn’t help admiring her perfect ass.
When I closed the door behind her, she pulled off her goggles and hair net.
“It’s very interesting,” she admitted, as I took the protective gear from her. “But you could modify the recipe to use whole wheat flour.”
I shook my head. “We deal every day in that problem. Our products have been made the same way since 1950, right after World War II, when sugar rationing was over, and they could finally indulge. We have just as many people who want us to stay true to that 1950 recipe as those who want us to make things healthier.”
She slipped out of the white coat, handed it to me, and crossed her arms over her breasts as if I’d just rendered her naked. Her fault for wearing an open blazer and a lacy, see-through thing underneath that was little more than lingerie. “Don’t tell me you’ve kept the same recipe since 1950.”
Well, she had me on that. We’d gradually modified things to be more economical, not so much changing the ingredients, but the size had definitely gotten smaller, and the process had become economized. “Okay. But the taste hasn’t suffered. We are concerned about health and curbing obesity, but we can’t compromise on taste. That’s our number one concern.”
She sighed, seeming disappointed as I led her through the breakroom toward the offices. We passed the mail room, and finally, the expansive gym where several of the treadmills were in operation by employees on their lunch breaks.
“Yes, believe it or not, we have a gym,” I said with a grin. “Not only do we provide all the free snack cakes they can have, we also provide a free gym membership and healthcare credits for maintaining a healthy lifestyle.”
She nodded but said nothing.
When we reached the end of the tour, she said reluctantly. “Okay. So it’s… nicer than I expected. And it isn’t totally evil. Your workers seem very happy here.”
I grinned at her surprise. “What? Are you surprised we don’t have our employees shackled to their stations to do the devil’s work?”
She lifted her finger. “But… I still think there’s room for improvement. As a community leader, you can lead the charge in fighting this epidemic. I—”
“I agree.”
She didn’t stop to listen. She kept listing all of the ways she’d fix things if she could. When she got to the third point, she trailed off, looking up at me with her enormous blue eyes. “What did you say?”
I dug my hands into my pockets and rocked back on my heels. “I said I agreed. I acknowledge we might not be making the healthiest choices. In the future, I’ll make sure your points are taken into consideration.”
She blinked. She opened her mouth as if looking for something to argue with me about, but finding nothing, clamped it shut. I didn’t think she expected me to capitulate so easily. “Oh. Well, I—”
“Do you always have to argue about everything with me?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
She gave me a look like it was obvious. “Because you’re Mr. Heigh-di-Ho.”
I laughed. “Mr. Heigh-di-Ho?” I tapped the side of my temple, thinking on that one. “So when I was just a guy in a tuxedo who liked your favorite museum and books I was fine, but now… I’m repellant?”
A slow smile spread across her face. She nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Apparently it didn’t matter in the janitor’s closet?”
She scowled, but a smile played on her lips. “That was different. I was high on the devil’s cakes. Your fault.”
I laughed, thinking I’d better quit while I was behind because I’d never get ahead. I motioned her to follow me out to the parking lot. “Everything is, apparently.”
She ignored the dig. “So when do you think you’ll start?”
We reached the limo, and Carl opened the door for us. Again, I’d gotten myself transfixed by the way her ass made that professional suit look sinful, the way her glossy hair shone in the sun, the way she could turn everything I did to impress her around on me. “What were we talking about, again?”
I realized her playful smile had faded as I slid into the seat beside her.
Definitely the wrong answer.
“Looking into making your foods healthier,” she muttered with a scowl. “Remember?”
Oh, right. Shit. That. She made it seem like it was so easy. But there were things I had to consider. It couldn’t happen overnight. In fact, with so many moving parts involved in it, I couldn’t see it happening in the next year. We were a big company. We had a bureaucracy.
“I’ll start working on it right away,” I fudged. “I’ll make it a priority.”
Maybe another woman would have bought it. But Juliana wasn’t just any woman. She crossed her arms in front of her, let out a little “hmph” as if to say, I’ll believe it when I see it, and turned to face the window.
I’d never had a woman make me work this hard.
But hell, maybe I liked to workout, after all. If I ended up in bed with Juliana, then it would all be worth it.