Aaron

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I stared at the back of Cree Manning’s head, not sure whether I should grin or scowl.

The woman couldn’t have made her feelings about me more clear if she had posted them on a billboard. Her reaction to me was entirely unique, and I still hadn’t figured out how to handle it.

The undeniable truth was Cree hated my guts.

I wasn’t sure whether that was something that had happened on sight, or something that had gradually developed, but there was no doubt about it.

Which was strange.

Yes, being the third son, third in line to the throne of the Mediterranean kingdom of Medina gave me a certain amount of leeway, at least to my face. But even more than that, if people didn’t exactly like me, they still went out of their way to make me think they did.

I wasn’t being arrogant when I said that, something I knew Cree would accuse me of. It was simply the truth. Whether because they were after something, or for other reasons I didn’t care enough to investigate, people always went out of their way to impress me, or at the very least make me notice them, maybe even tried to make me like them.

But not her.

I sat up a little bit, taking in the side of her face from the corner of my eye.

Even though she sat rigidly, her hands folded neatly across her lap, her outside bearing serene for anyone who didn’t take a second look, I could see the tension all over her.

Her shoulders were slightly hunched, held tight, her neck rigid, her jaw flexed.

Yeah, she was annoyed, more than likely pissed, or at the very least flustered. Cree seemed to go out of her way to push my buttons, and, egalitarian that I was, I certainly had no problem returning the favor in kind. But while our encounters usually left her annoyed, bordering on angry, they never had the same effect on me. She was irritating, more than, but she was also interesting, and that was more than I could say for most people I came into contact with.

So it perplexed me that she hated me so much, but I’d still seek her out on occasion if only to break up the monotony of the day. And Cree never failed to deliver. Whether it was a slashing look, a few barbed words, or even plain ignoring me, with her, I could always count on an interesting, if somewhat irritating, experience.

Like now, for instance.

She wasn’t looking at me, was clearly intent on not acknowledging my presence, but I could still feel her seething, could see that it was taking everything inside of her not to rip me a new one, or at the very least change seats. She did neither, but there was something satisfying in watching her squirm.

But I wasn’t a complete asshole, so after a few moments, I moved my arm from the back of her chair and sat up a little straighter myself.

I told myself the change was simply to get more comfortable, settle in for this mystery meeting. I also hoped that was the truth, though I certainly wouldn’t bet on it.

As much as I liked sparring with Cree, I sensed that this meeting was important, and, despite what she might think, I wasn’t completely detached from what went on at the firm.

After a few moments, she noticed that I had moved and then subtly adjusted, leaning back against the chair, but taking great care not to look in my direction.

Not a surprise, because if nothing else, Cree was consistent. And though I had started things off by dropping by her office unannounced and catching her in that semi-compromising position, I was still irritated as hell at how she was acting.

I’d spent far too much time trying to understand why she hated me so much. I thought I had rid myself of that particular obsession, but the way I was reacting now suggested that I hadn’t.

My mind wanted to venture down the road of trying to figure out why she held me in such low esteem, but instead I focused on her profile, trying to understand the woman, knowing I definitely wouldn’t be able to do that.

I again studied her features, noting that she had a great complexion, her skin soft, almost dewy-looking, radiating a youth that didn’t reflect her early or mid-thirties age.

Her face was nothing special. The only exception was her eyes, which were so dark as to be almost black and practically crackled with whatever emotion she was feeling.

Anger if she was looking at me, at the very least annoyance. But with others, her friends and people around the office, kindness. And when she was working, absolute brilliance.

It was that brilliance that had first caught my attention. It was also part of the reason I sought her out sometimes. Though she was always annoyed when she spoke to me, her eyes still flashed with her intelligence, something I appreciated, even if she was using that intelligence against me.

Interesting, because I seldom encountered that sort of thing, and life had convinced me most people didn’t bring a lot to the table.

Cree did.

I could remember when I had first run into her at the office, how I had watched her, taking in her average looks, average height, the fact that she was overweight, and dismissed her.

Something she had quickly proven to be an error on my part.

However she might look, whatever attitude she might be projecting at any given moment, Cree’s brilliance, her competence, were completely undeniable. And even better, at least for me, was that it forced me to try, at least sometimes.

I had enough self-awareness to know that I’d spent much of my life coasting, whether on my name, my looks, my status. This job was no different. I chalked it up as a reaction to my role in life.

I was the third son of a king. The chances of me ascending to the throne were almost nil, and I didn’t want that life anyway. But I also knew I was missing something. I didn’t have a purpose, didn’t have drive, and that aimlessness extended to every aspect of my life, including “work,” such as it was.

It was almost a fluke that I’d made it through law school and landed this job, and I had no doubt that if I’d been Joe Schmoe and not Aaron Sarda, I wouldn’t have made it through the front door. And for the most part, I didn’t care. But when I was around Cree, there was a spark of something, a need to do more, be better, if only to stop her from looking down her nose at me.

Kind of a mindfuck because I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of me and didn’t try to impress anyone. So, though she frustrated the hell out of me, she also pushed me, and that was sometimes worth the hassle.

Of course, I couldn’t lay the tension between us entirely at Cree’s feet. I certainly contributed to our little problem my own fair share.

Today being a perfect example.

One side effect of people trying to get on my good side was that I almost always had information about what was happening at the firm. The fact that I didn’t really care seemed to make people want to tell me things that much more. But I hadn’t heard anything about this meeting, and though we didn’t see eye to eye—something that was putting things quite mildly—I knew she was a reliable source of information. So, on a whim, I had decided to go to her, ask what she thought was up, maybe see if we were all in the dark.

Best-laid plans and all that.

First, I had been taken aback by seeing her on all fours and spent more than a few seconds checking out the goods, goods that were worth more than a second look, which was something I was surprised I hadn’t noticed before.

Then, when she had snapped at me, I had fallen into my old pattern, taking the opportunity to push her, even though that hadn’t exactly been my intention.

Truth was, it had been fun, but fun hadn’t been what I was after, though I would take what I could get.

“Cree!”

I followed her gaze to the sound of her name and watched as Daniel Walters, another lawyer who had started at the firm the same time as Cree and me, walked down the aisle and sat on the opposite side of Cree.

“Hey, Dan,” she said, her voice warm, the smile on her face genuine.

It was ridiculous, but seeing her warm expression set off my annoyance again. How often had she given me a greeting like that, one that was civil, not suspicious?

Exactly zero.

I felt my face turning down in a scowl and had to physically wipe the expression away.

“I dropped by your office, but it looks like you had the right idea about getting here early,” Daniel said.

“Actually, that was my idea,” I interjected.

“Aaron,” he said, his voice a little quieter now, some of his exuberance subdued.

Daniel’s reaction was one I was used to. If people weren’t trying to suck up to me, or, in Cree’s case, hating me on sight, they acted like Daniel, treating me cautiously, like they weren’t really sure how they should act. It never occurred to guys like Daniel to just treat me like a person, but I’d gotten used to it. Or I’d thought I had, but today, Daniel was pissing me off. I wasn’t sure if he was reacting this way because of me, or if this had something to do with Cree. Ordinarily I wouldn’t care enough to consider it and certainly not to ask. Daniel, and most other people if I were being honest, didn’t warrant the level of my attention it would take for me to figure it out.

But now, as he looked at me tentatively, the smile on his face false, while the one he had just given Cree had been completely genuine, I found anger, restlessness, warring with my determination to be professional.

“Well, that was a good idea on your part,” Daniel said slowly.

I could hear the tentativeness in his voice, sense it in his words, and for reasons I didn’t understand, I wanted to push. Cree, of course, made that impossible.

She shifted, putting her back fully to me, focusing all of her attention on Daniel. And again, her meaning couldn’t have been more clear.

She was dismissing me.

I almost laughed at the very thought.

I would not be dismissed.

“You have any idea what this is about, Walters?” I asked.

Daniel had been doing his level best not to look at me again, but I used a tone that I so rarely broke out, at least at the office, the princely one that said answer my question or off with your head. It always surprised me that it worked as well as it did, but it did. With everyone except Cree, of course.

“No idea,” Daniel said, seeming to answer on automatic pilot. “Have you heard anything?”

This question was clearly directed at Cree, but again I intervened.

“No, I haven’t,” I answered before she could utter a word. “I wonder what all the mystery is about?”

I finished, and she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at me, her brows crinkled with her frown, her eyes flashing with irritation.

Good.

We were back on even footing, so I decided to let the point drop.

Daniel looked at Cree, his expression still tense, but slightly less so. “After this can we—”

He cut off when the executive committee began to take their seats at the table set up in the front of the auditorium.

I was torn. I’d wanted to hear what he was going to ask her, far more than I wanted to admit. But I was also glad he hadn’t gotten to ask anything and was trying to decide whether I would pursue the question later. I wasn’t sure, but for now, I let it drop and listened.

“Thank you all for gathering on such short notice,” Brantley Edwards, the head of the executive committee, and a twenty-year partner at the firm said. “I bet you’re wondering what this is about.”

There was a murmur of agreement in the audience, and Brantley gave a knowing smile.

“I want to apologize for the cloak and dagger, but this is a very exciting time for our firm.”

I glanced over at Cree, saw that her expression was still serene, her eyes fully engaged, but she twirled her pen between her fingers.

I had noticed she fidgeted when she was nervous, and found that trait strangely endearing. Something I definitely didn’t want to feel when it came to her. But it was a human touch, something that made her seem like more than a nemesis cloaked as a colleague, which was what I so often viewed her as.

“Let me bring on Marsha to tell you more about what’s going on,” Brantley said.

Marsha West, also a twenty-year partner at the firm, and the highest-ranking woman, stepped to the microphone. I practically rolled my eyes. They were handling this like a product launch for a technology company, which was way over the top. Also kind of irritating, but I knew there was something to be said about showmanship. Hell, eighty percent of maintaining a monarchy was in the presentation.

“As Brantley mentioned, this is an exciting time at the firm. In addition to a thirty percent increase in billable work over last year, we’re in the running to get a very big piece of business. A two billion dollar contract,” Marsha said.

She went silent, letting the effect of her words sink in, something that didn’t take long to happen.

Two billion would keep a lot of lawyers working for a very long time, and the business environment being what it was, everybody was keen on getting in on that kind of work.

“The deal’s not done yet, and we need to put our best foot forward. The client is accepting proposals and will make the final decision in two months. This has to be perfect, and we’ve gathered you all here because this is going to be an all-hands project. Of course you’ll manage your existing responsibilities, but we want everyone working on this,” Marsha said.

My father would have been proud of her. It would be like him to expect a crap-ton of extra work on a hope, but certainly not a promise that you would be rewarded for it later.

Ridiculous if you thought about it, but I wasn’t thinking about it. I’d been curious about the announcement, but now that I knew what it was about, I relaxed, planning to tune the rest of the presentation out. The rat-race bullshit didn’t interest me in the slightest.

“Dossiers have been prepared, and you can collect them on your way out. And,” Marsha added, pausing for another moment of dramatic effect, “our firm has always been about collaboration and teamwork, but we all recognize the value in good old-fashioned competition.”

That recaptured my interest. I was beyond sick of all the lip service about teamwork, so I was intrigued at this new approach. Reengaged, I turned my attention back to Marsha.

“So we’ve paired you up in groups of two. The best proposal of each group will win, and the brains behind the best overall proposal will be made a partner in the firm.”

There was silence in the room, and when I looked at Cree’s face, her expression reflected my own feelings.

She was suspicious, confused, and more than a little intrigued. She also looked relieved. We’d never talked about it, but I suspected Cree, like me, thought collaboration was one of the most awful words in the English language.

Competition, though. That was a place where Cree, and I, could thrive. And the prospect of a partnership was one that I knew had gotten the attention of almost everyone in the room.

“As I said, details are in the reports that we will be handing out. Good luck. And may the best man—or woman,” Marsha said to polite laughter, “win.”

There were a few more remarks, and then Brantley closed the meeting.

The murmurs in the crowd were loud, undifferentiated conversation, but you could feel the energy flowing in the room.

“I really hope we’re not against each other,” Daniel said to Cree.

“Me either,” she responded and then smiled.

The idiot missed the insincerity in her voice, but I certainly didn’t.

It also didn’t surprise me.

Cree, as nice as she could be, didn’t play well with others. It was one of the things we had in common, and something I grudgingly respected her for. I also knew she wouldn’t pull her punches, and being pitted against Daniel would have been a walk in the park for her, something I knew she understood.

“So this is our shot,” Daniel said.

“Yeah, it is,” Cree said, again noncommittal.

That wasn’t like her, and it belatedly occurred to me that she was keeping her feelings to herself, not wanting to express them in front of me.

That shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. Still, I sucked it up and followed Cree as she followed Daniel out of the auditorium. I wasn’t interested in this ridiculous competition, but I wasn’t quite ready to leave. Cree was preoccupied, and Daniel was staring at her like a lovesick puppy. Cree, for her part, didn’t seem particularly interested, but the way he looked at her still set my teeth on edge, probably because he didn’t even try to hide it, didn’t even have a modicum of pride.

Instead, he simply walked beside her, looking eager, excited.

I shook my head, barely able to hide my own disgust.

It was none of my business, none at all, but watching that display was unpleasant. Besides, poor Daniel was only going to get his feelings hurt. From what I knew of Cree, which was surprisingly little given how long we had worked together, I knew that she wouldn’t respond well to his kind of subtle crush. If the guy wanted a shot with Cree, he would have to be direct.

Part of me wanted to suggest that to him, but then I shrugged the feeling off, and instead reached for one of the offered envelopes the administrative assistants were handing out.

By unspoken mutual agreement, Cree, Daniel, and I stood off to one side and opened them. The same was true of dozens of other groups as everyone rapidly flipped through the papers.

When I reached the final page, the one that contained our competitors, I let a slow smile spread across my face.

Looked up at Cree, and watched as annoyed horror spread across hers.

Maybe I was more interested in this project than I had thought.

“Think you’re up to the challenge of taking me on?” I asked.

I was surprised Cree didn’t punch me.