BILLIONAIRES HOOK UP
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
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Chapter One
Tasha
heart bounced up into my throat when the phone rang. The product launch had started slow, but the last I heard, the server had crashed. It was supposed to be good news—so many people bought the application that we'd been overwhelmed—but it was my responsibility to smooth everything out. I wasn't sure I could take one more wrinkle.
I pressed down the creases on my pencil skirt and answered the phone. "Tasha Nichols."
"Ms. Nichols, I'm Amy. I'm the assistant the temp agency sent over?" Her nervous voice ended everything on a high, shaky note.
I ground my teeth. Another junior executive had poached my assistant. Over the last two years, a pattern had emerged: I trained my assistants, made them capable and efficient, and then one of my male counterparts would entice them away. Now it seemed I had a new, temporary assistant every few weeks.
"Yes, Amy, is there something you need? I'm not due into the office for another thirty minutes," I said.
"Um, yeah, I mean, yes. Yes, Ms. Nichols. A Mr. Berger stopped by and dropped off two tickets to an exclusive wine tasting event up in Sonoma. It's tonight, so I thought you would want to know right away," Amy said.
So, Berger was the assistant-thief this time, I thought. He knew full well I didn't have the time for a wine tasting, but at least he'd made the effort to send a thank you.
"Wait, did you say Mr. Berger stopped by? He's already in the office?" I asked.
Amy paused, remembering my no-doubt dashing colleague. "I'm not sure he went home last night. He was wearing a tuxedo."
Of course he was. While I was sweating over the server crash and helping the tech managers organize their teams, the other junior executives had been representing our company at a Bay Area charity ball. A whole night of free champagne. No wonder he was so free with his wine tasting tickets.
"Send the tickets to my tech manager," I told my temp assistant. "He deserves them for setting everything right at the eleventh hour."
I choked on my last sip of coffee as I heard Amy rummaging through piles of paper. She made nervous little sniffs as she searched. "Your tech manager?"
"There's a contacts roster inside your job description binder," I said.
I dumped out the rest of my coffee in the kitchen sink and glanced out the window. The San Francisco Bay was glittering in the bright spring sunshine. The Golden Gate Bridge was just emerging from a light layer of fog, and from my vantage point, San Francisco was shining like the inside of an abalone shell. The light cardigan I wore was enough for my sunny spot in the East Bay, but the city would be chilly despite the spring weather. I turned my back on the view and grabbed my tweed coat as I rushed to the door.
"Okay, I found the binder," Amy said, "but there's this big meeting this morning."
"I know, Amy; it'll be all right. I'm on my way now," I said.
I paused in the front door and took one more sweeping glance of my condominium. It was a small one-bedroom, but it was on the top floor. The view was amazing when I had time for it, but now all I could do was make sure I had my briefcase, reports, and work files. My sink was stacked high with dirty dishes, the dishwasher was full of forgotten clean ones, and I'd left two cupboards hanging open during my desperate search for breakfast. I took one step back inside to shut them, but stopped.
"Ms. Nichols, this binder has three hundred pages. Am I supposed to read it all?" Amy asked. "Everyone's rushing around for this big meeting and I don't even know where the restrooms are."
I shut the front door behind me and locked it. "Down the hall, take the first left. And after you get back, all you need to do is read the first section. I've outlined all your major responsibilities and created a suggested priority list. The rest of the binder is to be used as a reference."
"Wow. This is great. I wish every exec had a binder like this. Your last assistant must have been very organized," Amy said.
"I made that binder myself." I paused at my car door and looked at my watch. It was no use fighting bridge traffic at that time in the morning, so I would have to take the train into the city. "Who else have you seen this morning?"
"Oh." Amy's breathy sigh made my stomach clench. "There was this very handsome man about five minutes ago. I think he came in with Mr. Berger. He was wearing a tux, but his tie was all undone and his shirt unbuttoned."
My temp assistant melted on the other end of the line while I yanked open my car door and jumped in. "Let me guess: bright-blue eyes and a dimple when he smiles?"
"Ooh, I didn't see the dimple, but he had the yummiest stubble." Amy giggled. "He said he'd see me at the meeting."
"At the meeting?" I let my tires do the shrieking for me as I raced through my hilly neighborhood. "Why in the hell is Rainer Maxwell coming to my meeting?"
"Is that his name?" Amy asked. "Oh, here he is on your contacts roster. Junior Executive, Public Relations. I bet he is really good at his job."
"All he can do is wink and smile," I spat out. "He has no idea what it takes to manage a project from conception to launch. I bet he doesn't even know the server crashed and my team spent twelve hours straight fixing all the bugs. He probably thinks these apps appear out of nowhere, like plucking an apple off a tree."
I knew I was ranting, so I told Amy goodbye and then I stepped on the gas.
I strangled my steering wheel as traffic stopped again on the Bay Bridge. I really should have taken the train. I could see Hyperion Industries, the sleek skyscraper, standing out on the hilly streets of San Francisco. Everything about it was polished and new, always on the cutting edge of technology. The communications giant held the upper hand in everything from shared computer databases to bandwidth technology and internet applications. It dominated the buildings and companies around it, and was no less imposing from my vantage point on the bridge.
Finally, an opening appeared and I drove on the shoulder to get to my exit. It was strange to drive up to my office building rather than walk from the rapid transit station, but I didn't have time to over think it.
I did cringe as my old, economy sedan stood in line with Teslas and Porsches. The executive valet service was something I only ever used in an emergency. The astronomical numbers our product launch was showing explained my rush, but nothing erased the scraps and dents on my car. The valets raised their eyebrow as I pulled up.
"Ms. Nichols?" a valet confirmed, looking at my badge. "I'm sorry, we didn't recognize you and your, um, car. We'll take it right away."
I gathered up all my things and rushed into the lobby. Glossy was the only word that came to mind when I entered Hyperion Industries. The marble floor shone as did the tall columns that guided people to the first security checkpoint. The circular front desk looked like the dock out of a futuristic spaceship. The head security guard was surrounded by video monitors and computer directories. If he didn't recognize someone, his mountainous counterparts would detain them before they got to the elevator banks.
"Good morning, Otto," I said.
Otto folded his newspaper and stood up. "Good morning, Tasha. You took over the world yet?"
I laughed. "Not yet, but that's still the plan."
"Here, let me help you with that." Otto signaled for one of the large security guards to take his place. He shuffled around the front desk and took the stack of reports and files from my arms.
"Hi, Larry. How's your wife doing with her broken arm?" I asked.
Larry smiled, startling the two businessmen lined up behind me. "Cast comes off next week. Congratulations, Ms. Nichols, I hear your new app is—"
"Stop." Otto silenced him. "She won't talk about it until all the numbers are in."
"Am I really that bad?" I asked Otto as he walked me to the executive elevator bank.
The older man smiled and nodded. "But now that it's done, you're going to start coming in with details of real life. Dinners, dates, day trips, fun. You remember fun?"
"Nope," I said. "Must have slipped my mind."
"How about you find someone to help you remember?" Otto held open the elevator door and handed me my reports and files.
I pressed the number for my floor and shook my head. "Career first," I said.
Otto gave me a helpless smile as the elevator doors closed. He knew that as one of the few female junior executives at Hyperion, I had to work harder than my male counterparts. I couldn't afford to lose my focus or my foothold in the company would slip, and I would see my colleagues promoted ahead of me.
That thought still rankled me, no matter how many years I had strived to stay ahead of it. If I let go, even for sixty seconds, my career could stall. I couldn't let that happen.
So, when the elevator doors opened on my floor, I immediately punched the button for the Vista Cafe. The elevator rose to the highest floor and opened onto a busy scene. Long ago, the top brass of Hyperion had decided a sky-level cafe would help motivate their employees, and they had been right. Grabbing a cup of coffee next to panoramic views of San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the bay motivated everyone to work harder.
I didn't pause near the din of the coffee bar and kept going past the velvet-roped entrance to the executive dining room. I needed a quiet place to help me focus before our big meeting, and there was only one spot in the whole skyscraper that I knew would inspire me.
The exterior of Hyperion headquarters might have been shiny and new, but the building itself was erected right after the 1906 earthquake. It was that mix of history and evolution that made Hyperion an industry leader. When the newest incarnation of the offices had been installed, the tower had been left untouched. Only a few people knew that the original executive penthouse still existed, untouched. Otto had long ago told me the secret to finding it, and ever since then, it had been my haven.
I slipped into the stairwell and went up. The stairwell ended abruptly, and there was nothing but a narrow door labeled Utilities. A heavy handle equipped with an alarm bar guarded what otherwise looked like a closet. I pushed it open, knowing full well the alarm was only for show, and gently closed the door behind me.
Inside, the emergency lights were the only thing illuminating a narrow hallway. The faux walls deterred any other explorers, but I kept going. The particleboard walls gave way to a grand lobby dominated by a short but sweeping staircase. I put one hand on the banister carved from dark mahogany and walked up to the arched doorway of the penthouse. I could feel over one hundred years of hard-won leadership, relentless vision, and tireless dedication as I approached the coveted office. How many people before me had entered those doors and promised themselves they wouldn't give up until they reached the top?
I pushed open the heavy wooden door on the right and stepped inside. Sunlight filtered through the dusty, forgotten windows, but even the smudges of time did not diminish the impressive view. I took a step towards the raised dais and around the massive carved wood and marble desk that still stood there.
Then a side door creaked open, and I pressed both hands to my mouth to stifle my scream.
#
Maxwell let loose a stream of swearing that ended with a hearty laugh. I pried one of my hands off my mouth and smacked him hard on the shoulder before I could gather my composure.
"I didn't mean to surprise you. How did you know about this place?" he asked.
"How did you?"
Rainer smiled. "I know my way around."
I dragged my other hand down and frowned at him. I usually saw the handsome junior executive conducting business in the comfort of the dining hall. It seemed he did most of his business over drinks, whether it was coffee or something stronger. I pressed a hand to my heart and wondered if a shot would settle my nerves. There was a bottle of Glenlivet whiskey in the hidden drawer of the old desk. Otto said it kept the spirits of the old office happy.
"Who told you this was still here?" I couldn't imagine Otto sharing with someone so slick. Rainer probably used the hidden penthouse for his infamous office liaisons. I cringed. "This isn't a playground."
Rainer tipped his head and smiled at me. "You surprised me too, you know. I never thought Ms. Nichols was the sneak-around type."
I smoothed down my blouse and squared my shoulders. "I'm not sneaking around. You were the one hiding in the closet."
"You haven't been back there?" Rainer leaned forward and caught my hand. "You're gonna love it."
I wanted to resist, but his grip was firm and strong. Sudden heat swept up my arm from where we touched and I felt it bloom on my cheeks. Rainer tugged me towards the hidden door panel, and I couldn't resist. Then the specter of his many office romances sprung to my mind and I pulled back. We were caught, pressed together in the narrow doorway, and all the breath left my body.
Even in the dim, filtered light, his eyes were electric blue. His wide shoulders wedged tightly against the doorframe, and I could feel the hard flex of his stomach as his breath caught too. Warm currents raced up my arm as his hand trailed up from my wrist to clasp my shoulder.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
Rainer's smile returned, but it wasn't as easy as before. "Showing you the old, hidden bathroom."
He pushed my shoulder, and I popped into the surprisingly large room. A pedestal sink, clawfoot tub, and full-length standing mirror gleamed in the low light. The porcelain toilet was framed with an ornate, wood-carved seat and had a pull-chain flush. In the corner stretched a chaise lounge, its embroidered chintz still showing bright flowers.
My stern expression fled as I delighted in the opulent find. The original penthouse office was full of luxuries, and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought to look for the bathroom before. I had been so busy with my own career daydreams that I had never noticed the panel door.
"Pretty fancy, right?" Rainer asked. He leaned around me and checked his hair in the clouded mirror. "I can just imagine one of those old, fat-cat execs hiding out in here and reading the paper while his secretary did all his work."
I shot Rainer a look. "Is that what you aspire to?"
He shrugged and his smile regained its jaunty shine. "I'm not much for aspiring. I just come up here for the privacy."
I held up both hands to ward off whatever he would say next. "I don't want to hear about your conquests."
"Yeah, I heard you were a prude," Rainer said.
I knew he was just teasing me, but I spun around and marched out of the bathroom. My haven, my private place of inspiration, was ruined. Instead of imagining myself sitting at that desk, running a successful and secure business far into the future, all I could see was the ghosts of lazy, entitled men like Rainer running the company to the ground. I stared out the window and struggled to keep sight of my goals.
"Why do you come up here?" he asked, following me to the view behind the desk.
I pursed my lips and headed for the door. Rainer followed me, closing the penthouse office door behind him. He caught up to me in the faux utility closet and slipped in front to block my way. I crossed my arms over my stomach to contain the leap of excitement I felt inside. His attractiveness was an irritation, worse than the genuine curiosity in his gaze.
"Fine," I said. "I come up here to clear my thoughts and make sure I've got my eye on the prize."
He nodded, appeased by my answer, but he didn't move. "I was clearing my thoughts too. Until you showed up."
The closet was too tight, too warm. "Yeah, I hear hangovers are the worst."
Rainer grinned. "How do I look? Ready to face the press?"
I stopped shoving him aside and narrowed my eyes. "What press?"
"I'll tell you in the elevator."
I took three big steps back and shook my head. "No, thank you. I'm not going to get tangled up in your disgusting office gossip. I'll take the stairs."
"Suit yourself, Tasha," he said. Rainer slipped out the door and shut it behind him.
I stood in the dark and waited for my pulse to settle down. He knew my name; of course he knew my name. The real shock was hearing it on his lips and liking it.
I yanked open the door and marched down two flights of stairs as if I could escape the preposterous idea that I was attracted to Rainer Maxwell. To distract myself, I planned the best route to my office.
The top executives occupied the floor directly below the Vista Cafe level, and the financial department was directly below them. I slipped onto the financial floor and marched to the first bank of elevators. The junior executives had offices on the next floor down, and it would look perfectly normal for me to take the elevator from there. No one would know I ran into Rainer, or that he was the reason my cheeks still felt hot.
The doors slid open seconds after I pushed the down button. I stepped forward to enter the elevator and stumbled. Rainer lounged against the back wall, surrounded by his buddy colleagues. They reluctantly shuffled aside to make space for me, but Rainer just smiled.
"Good morning, Ms. Nichols," he said.
If I refused to get on the elevator now, everyone would assume I had a reason to dislike him. I did dislike him, I reminded myself, but not because we'd had some cheap office dalliance and he'd moved on. It didn't matter that I was turned off by his casual work attitude or his smarmy path to success. All our colleagues would think was that I was another one of his conquests.
"Good morning," I said to the group at large. I forced myself onto the elevator and turned around to face the doors, leaving as large a gap between myself and Rainer as I could. The doors slid closed inches from my nose.
"All right, Rainer, enough suspense. Tell us about the party last night," one of the junior executives said.
Another one chucked Rainer on the shoulder. "I hear you showed up with two models you met at the product shoot."
Product shoot? I wondered, ignoring the other lascivious details. My team's application was the only product I knew had been recently promoted in print media.
"I'd tell you boys, but there's a lady present," Rainer said.
"Where?" another junior executive joked.
Rainer stood up straight, and I felt his eyes on my back. "I'd watch out, Georgie. Ms. Nichols is planning to be your boss."
Georgie jammed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah? Well, I hear she's your boss as of last night."
Snickers erupted behind me. I refused to move and acknowledge any of them, but I felt Rainer respond immediately. Whatever move he made had George throwing his hands up in self-defense.
"Hey, we're not stupid," George said. "We all tried to jump on her project too. You just happened to have the best strings to pull."
Sweat threatened to pop out along my hairline, and I was glad when the elevator doors slid open on our floor. Rainer Maxwell had weaseled his way onto my project? I strode down the hallway, ignoring the parting looks I felt from the elevator. I had precious little time before our big meeting, and I had to find out if it was just elevator gossip or the truth.
My mind was racing faster than my feet, so it took a moment for my thoughts to circle back to my assistant's desk. A petite woman with her brown hair in a tight ponytail stared up at me.
"You're Amy?" I asked.
She nodded and raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did not move.
I clenched my fingers into a fist. "I'm Ms. Nichols. You're my assistant. Have you read through the binder?"
Amy jumped up and opened my office door. "Really? I thought you were kidding about that. I mean, that binder is huge."
"This is your job, Amy," I said. I dumped my things on my desk and put my fists on my hips. "Are there any messages for me about changes to my project team? Specifically concerning the public relations portion."
"Messages? Like on your voicemail? I don't have the password," Amy said.
I pressed a hand to my forehead. "The password is in the binder. I don't have time to sort through them now."
Amy's blank expression was too much. I turned away from her and looked out my office window. The view was bleak compared to the one I had admired upstairs. I faced the gray facade of the neighboring office building and saw only long rows of cubicles through its plain windows. There was nothing to inspire me there, but inspiration wasn't really what I needed. I needed an explanation. How had Rainer been assigned to my project just in time to reap the benefits?
"Could you please call Mr. Maxwell's assistant and inquire about his morning schedule?" I turned around to face Amy.
"Why don't you just ask Mr. Maxwell?" Amy blinked a few slow times.
Somewhere in my usual flurry of voicemails was surely a quick message from Stan or one of my other bosses, telling me why Rainer Maxwell was suddenly on my project. I could give Amy the password, but it would take her too long to decipher the messages and write down any pertinent information. Her wide-eyed expression did not offer any help.
"Never mind. I'll be attending this morning's meeting by myself. That should give you time to review the binder and get caught up on your daily duties," I said. "Shut the door behind you, please."
Amy wandered out of my office and had to double back to shut the door. As soon as I was sure she was back at her desk, I raised both hands to the ceiling and mimed a frustrated scream. Then I cleared my throat and picked up my phone.
"Rainer Maxwell's office; this is Topher."
I pinched my nose and did my best impression of Amy's questioning voice. "Ms. Nichols would like a word with Mr. Maxwell. Is he available?"
"No, sorry. Mr. Maxwell is finishing up the press conference for the GroGreen application. I'm expecting him soon. Can I take a message?"
Images of Rainer smoothing back his wavy, dark-brown hair and checking his image in the antique mirror flashed through my head like lightning. He had been preening and practicing his lines in the penthouse office when I had stumbled in this morning. Now he was downstairs smiling into dozens of cameras and taking credit for all my hard work.
I strangled the phone hard, imagining it was him before I hung up. Rainer Maxwell had assumed he'd picked an easy target, but he was dead wrong. I had sacrificed everything for my career and no one, no matter how slick, would stand in my way.