Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
AARON
“ I shouldn’t have to tell you that walking around without a shirt is inappropriate,” I blurted out.
Two hours too late. God, I sounded like an idiot. No, scratch that. I was an idiot.
An idiot who’d fucked around with his employee. I was mentally smacking myself in the forehead at least twenty times per minute. Stupid, stupid Aaron.
We agreed to forget about last night, but I couldn’t think about anything else. I’d rubbed one out in the bathroom while Harrison was up at the bar, and I came so hard I was dizzy for an hour. Calmer, but not satisfied. And it took every ounce of control I had to will myself to sleep. Not that I’d had much of that.
Now Harrison and I were waiting in the reception area at Ollie’s office, and I was about to jump out of my custom-tailored suit.
Like every place in this town, there were scenic mountain views, but we could have been locked in a bunker for all I noticed. Snow turned to freezing rain and back again to snow, and conditions were still treacherous. The roads and sidewalks were slick, and there were warnings about possible downed trees and power outages. I had a feeling we’d be extending our stay in Banff if things got worse.
Snowed in with Harry? Could things get any worse?
“You’re ridiculous. And I’m wearing one now, so what’s the problem?” Harrison turned to stare at me, his blue eyes bright with mischief.
God knew what was going to come out of his mouth next. Or mine. And why did I keep calling him ‘Harry’? I’d never met anyone who got under my skin the way he did. I’d also never lusted after an employee before, never mind the bathroom blow job. And spending the night in the same bed and having breakfast in that hotel room, while said employee was half naked? Fuck. I don’t remember eating breakfast at all; I was too distracted by a set of broad shoulders, tight pecs, and veiny forearms. But it was those icy blue eyes that really fucked me up. Then, and now.
And…I forgot what I was trying to say.
“Aaron?”
“That’s not the point. Don’t do it again,” I mumbled. “We need to reestablish proper?—”
Harrison’s dirty chuckle had a visceral effect on me, making me squirm in my seat.
“Blah blah blah,” he snarked. “You hated me at first sight, I got pissed because you didn’t want to hire me, and we’ve been at each’s other throats ever since. We kissed, you sucked, I came, and we spent the night together. Proper has been good and truly fucked.”
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed as I frantically looked around. “And we didn’t spend the night together. We slept side by side in the same bed. That’s all.”
“Even in a king-sized bed it was a tight fit. Didn’t take you for a snuggler,” Harrison teased and ignored my death glare. “All this to say, normal’s done. The ship’s sailed, the curtain’s closed, the show’s over, the?—”
“I get it,” I bit out and ran an agitated hand through my hair. I’d probably have none left by the end of this trip. “Jesus, are you always this chatty in the morning?”
“My siblings would tell you I’m worse. Not just the talking, but the bossing around. But when you’re the oldest of four kids, you get used to being in charge.”
“One of four?”
“Yep.”
“Holy shit, your parents must’ve been exhausted.”
Harrison’s smile dimmed.
“Mom. Just my mom,” Harrison explained. “Dad scampered off when I was almost ten, and that was that.”
“Oh. I’m…I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know what else to say.
“We made do without him. But yeah, things weren’t easy.” Harrison shrugged. “What about you?”
I didn’t know whether to be pleased or concerned about this turn of conversation.
“I’m an only child. My mom passed when I was thirteen,” I admitted.
“I’m sorry, too.”
I nodded.
“My parents divorced a year before she died. Their relationship was volatile to say the least. Neither of them was keen on parenting either. It made me realize that I never want that.”
“Marriage? Or kids?” Harrison asked.
“Both. At least, I think so,” I whispered, unsure why I was confessing this to Harrison of all people. “Taylor-Ladners marry for strategy, not love. It’s the same with kids; it’s about continuing the family legacy. One that I’m already fucking up. I don’t know if I want to repeat bad patterns.”
“How’re you fucking up?”
I glanced at him with one raised eyebrow and assumed that said it all.
But before Harrison could issue another smart-ass reply, Ollie appeared with Rian at his side.
“Hey guys, are you ready?”
I wasn’t sure the answer was yes.
Two hours—and a shitload of coffee—later, and we were still negotiating. But we were close to getting Ollie on board. Closer than I was eight months ago. We’d been going over numbers, and made progress on that front, but Ollie was still pushing back on the marketing. I was amazed that both Harrison and I were able to conduct this meeting like business as usual. Maybe if this CEO thing didn’t work out I could try my hand at acting…
“There’s no compromise when it comes to the design and promotion of the products,” Ollie insisted. “I’m happy with the revenue split offer, forty-five to fifty-five, in your favor, but that doesn’t mean I’m handing over the entire creative reins. I just won’t do it.”
“How about forty-nine?” I countered. “And you leave the marketing to us?”
Ollie shook his head. “No.”
“You get a seat on the board,” I reminded him. “Shares in the company.”
“Those items we agree on, and yes, it’s very generous. But it’s not what I’m looking for. My products are my babies. I’m not at a point where I’m ready to give up full control. And if you want them as part of the Taylor-Ladner empire, you need to give me what I want.”
“What if we implement a hybrid marketing role? Someone on your team who reports to Rian and to our group and is focused solely on your products? We could start with a one-year contract to test it out. Plus, Rian gets final approval of any new or revised packaging?” Harrison offered.
Harrison played our last hand, and I wondered if it would be enough. The contract stipulation was improvised and something we hadn’t discussed before the meeting. But oddly enough, I wasn’t angry about it. In fact, it was the first time since I met Harrison that I wasn’t totally pissed off at him. It wasn’t the simplest scenario on our end; it would mean a revision to the budget and a potential loophole for our legal team. But if it gave me Ollie’s partnership, it would be worth it.
Ollie and Rian glanced at each other, not a word spoken. Rian scribbled something on his tablet and showed it to Ollie, who read it and nodded.
“That idea sounds promising,” Ollie finally replied. “And we’ve got someone in mind.”
“They’d have to be vetted by our team,” I countered.
“Of course. And I want Rian getting final approval.”
I nodded. We were so fucking close. A bubbling excitement, a passion I hadn’t felt in years, surged in my veins. Just like last night; I was on my knees in that bathroom, but I was the one in control. I knew it, and Harrison knew it, even if he’d never admit it. Giving head was a total power rush, and inking business deals came in a close second.
“What about the new products that we’ve got in our pipeline? Development? Budget?” Rian asked.
“Let’s leave that item for now,” Ollie offered with a smile. “I’ve got another meeting to attend shortly. We’ll see you back here tomorrow at ten, and then afterwards, lunch?”
“Sounds great,” I replied.
Once Ollie signed this fucking deal it would be. Until then, I’d be restless as hell. Still, the mention of lunch had me thinking that this was going to happen and we were going to celebrate.
We stood up, shook hands, and said our goodbyes. By the time we left the office thick, wet snow was falling fast and furious. It was almost noon, and with nothing else in my calendar (for once), I had an idea about how to work off my anxiety. No, not that.
Without thinking, I turned to Harrison.
“How about a race?” I asked.
“What?”
“We might as well take advantage while we’re here and hit the slopes. Let’s see how good a skier you really are. First one down the hill buys drinks.”
“What did I say about daring me?” he replied.
Harrison stepped into my personal space and suddenly, it was painful to take a breath. I reasoned it was the frigid Canadian air. Without thinking, I met Harrison’s gaze, and damn, he was standing way too close. All my blood began to pool south.
“And where’s my thanks for saving the deal in there?” he added.
Smug bastard.
“You’re being paid, and when this deal closes, you’ll get a fat commission check to boot. That’s thanks enough,” I bit out.
“Hard-ass.”
“Inappropriate.”
“Cranky ass?”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you stalling?”
“Are you fucking kidding? Bring it on.”
We hopped in a rideshare and made our way back to the hotel. By the time we changed, and headed for the rental shop, the lineup for the lifts was already long. We got kitted up, head to toe, in boots, skis, helmets, and goggles. The last time I went skiing was in Aspen for a long weekend. Long was right. I’d had no days off since and it was now early January, almost a year later. I had no idea what this year would bring. Hopefully, this deal. That’s the only thing I wanted. The only thing I needed.
We waited fifteen minutes for the lift, but it was worth it. The higher up the mountain we climbed, the more I forgot about work. I got lost in the scenery; the treetops and trails blanketed in white powder, everything sparkling and bright. It had me temporarily lost for words.
But not Harrison.
“I was kidding earlier,” he announced. “I’m headed for Delirium, the most difficult black diamond trail. You take the bunny slope, and I’ll meet you at the Stargaze Bar at the base in an hour.”
“Fuck off, I’m no novice. I’ve probably skied more than you.”
“Really? Daddy let you out of the house?”
I offered my favorite finger but with my glove on, it lost the full impact.
“I’ve skied the Grand Couloir in France,” I snapped back. “If I can handle that, I can handle this.”
“If you say so.” Harrison stared back at me. I didn’t know what was more hypnotic, the scenery, or those pale blue eyes of his. “When did you learn? Wait, let me guess, your family owned a ski resort.”
I glared at him, but it had no effect. Asshole.
“Actually, I didn’t start until I was in college. I wasn’t really into sports before then. Just video games and science-fiction novels,” I admitted. “But after a disastrous freshman year, I started going to the gym, and when my body changed, my confidence did too.”
And why the fuck was I telling him this? It had to be the air up here. Would he finally make the connection about who I was? If he hadn’t already, probably not. It was ten years ago. One night, ten years, and a lifetime ago. I’d changed a lot. On the outside, yes, but inside? I wasn’t so sure.
The ski lift slowed as we reached the peak of the mountain. It was snowing hard again, and you could barely see in front of your face.
“I was the same. I mean, I didn’t learn to ski until I was in my early twenties. Couldn’t afford to. I barely got by in college, even with a full scholarship and a part-time job,” Harrison replied. “And what was so disastrous about your first year?”
Just before we hopped off the lift, I pulled on my goggles and turned to stare at him.
“You.”