Chapter 38
Lucas
Iwalk through my office door the following morning to find Amelia already standing in front of my desk. The surge of pleasure I see at the sight of her makes me grimace.
“Good morning,” I say, as my mind is bombarded with the images of fucking her mouth last night. I really need to get my head in the game and stop fantasizing about my assistant the second I walk through the door.
“Sorry,” she says, turning to me. “I wanted to catch you before your first call of the day.”
I would happily delay the call and bend you over my desk again.
“That’s okay,” I mutter, trying to drag my mind out of the gutter. I place my bag behind my chair and take a seat. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
I look up at her, noting the way she’s fidgeting in place. Her eyes are flitting about the room a little manically. A bolt of panic shoots through me as it occurs to me that she might be about to quit. The thought of her leaving makes my chest ache.
“It’s about something I overheard at the gala last night,” she says, and I discreetly breathe a sigh of relief.
I pull my chair under the desk, leaning forward and raising my eyebrows at her.
“What did you hear?” I ask.
“It was just before you, uh, came to find me when I was with Ambrose,” she says awkwardly as a bolt of lust races through me. “I had noticed a guy wearing a charcoal suit that didn’t exactly fit the dress code. He was super drunk.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah. I know exactly who you mean. His name’s Michael Stubbs, he’s one of the account managers at Forster and Stoke.
He has a major chip on his shoulder because he didn’t get the CFO position.
He’s been vying for a C-Suite job for years and ignored the dress code last night to make a point apparently.
I wouldn’t worry too much about anything he said.
He wouldn’t have been in the best frame of mind. ”
“It wasn’t him, actually,” Amelia continued, “but the other guy he was with. He had red hair, streaked with gray, a short beard, and drank a lot of whiskey.” She frowns, the little crease between her eyebrows beyond endearing. “Sorry, I should have found out his name before bothering you.”
“Emmanuel Bishop. Don’t worry. I know who he is too. What did he say?”
“He said that he’s made an offer to buy Barnes Enterprises.”
I sit forward in my chair, staring at her in disbelief. “What??”
“He told Michael Stubbs about it, loud enough for me to overhear. I wondered afterward if he was lying about it. Why would he have such an open discussion about it at a gala you were hosting? Wouldn’t he have wanted to keep it private? But I thought I should tell you anyway.”
“You’re certain?” I ask, all the possible explanations storming my brain at once. Amelia nods as she steps toward my desk.
“He told Stubbs that you hadn’t signed off on the deal yet, pretty much implying that, as it wasn’t set in stone, he can do whatever he wants. Apparently, he sent Barnes the offer while he was on vacation. He seemed pretty confident about it, but I don’t know what the terms were.”
I slam my fist against the desk, standing up, my mind moving feverishly.
“Shit.”
Amelia doesn’t say anything until I look at her. “Maybe I should have told you last night.”
“No, but I’m glad you told me,” I tell her firmly. “I need to make some calls.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Do you need me to ask Kaitlin to push your meeting back?”
“No. Not yet. Do we know where Barnes is?”
She hesitates, that beautiful lip caught beneath her teeth, and then she opens her palm to reveal a small, perfectly folded piece of paper. She hands it to me, her handwriting neat and small at the top.
“I called his PA this morning and asked whether he was in the country. She said no and told me he’s in the Maldives. I kind of pretended I had always wanted to go, and got the name of the resort out of her.”
I stare at her handwriting in amazement. “This is the resort where Barnes is staying?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes. But his PA said he’s not taking any calls while he’s there.”
I nod. “I can believe that. Part of the reason he’s selling is that he hasn’t been able to really take a true vacation in thirty years.
I’ve witnessed how his wife can be when he isn’t focused on his family, and I wouldn’t take calls if she were with me either.
” I pause for a minute, feeling even more anger rising in my chest. “Damn it, I can’t fucking believe Bishop would do this. ”
“Is there anything else you need me to do?” she asks, turning toward the door.
I stand up, my decision made.
“Can you go home and pack a bag?” I ask her.
She looks at me in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
“I need to close this deal, Amelia. And Barnes likes you. He’s there with his wife. If I show up alone and start fucking up his vacation, I won’t get anywhere.”
“Show up… you mean go to the Maldives?” she asks, her eyebrows shooting up.
“It’s the only way to secure this thing. I’ve worked with men like Barnes before; big gestures matter, and he’ll have no sympathy with me by myself. But if I take you, we can do this together.”
“Together?” She stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“It’s the simplest way to get this deal over the line,” I add. “If other people are sniffing around, there’s every chance that with a bit of distance, our agreement will feel less solid to him. Fuck, I knew I should have drawn up the paperwork right then and there.”
“I can’t go to the Maldives!” Amelia protests.
I frown at her. “Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, I don’t have a passport.”
“You don’t have a passport?”
“No.”
I blink at her. “How is that possible?”
“Because I don’t.” She says indignantly, shifting her weight. “Not everyone can travel around the world like you,” she says.
I wave a hand vaguely in the air. “Okay, that doesn’t matter. I can pull some strings and get you a passport.”
“Mr. Crawford—”
“Lucas,” I snap.
“Lucas,” she concedes. “I can’t just fly off to the Maldives. I have my sister to take care of.”
I shake my head, already scrolling on my phone, wondering how quickly my jet can be ready.
“The same sister in the picture on your lock screen?” I ask idly. “She looks old enough to take care of herself.”
She doesn’t reply immediately, and I look up at her as she chews her lip, her eyes narrowing.
“If you don’t have a passport, then you’ve never vacationed anywhere abroad,” I say, changing my approach. “I promise you, the Maldives is one of the most beautiful places you’ll ever see. It’ll just be for the weekend, that’s it. We’ll be back Sunday night.”
“But—”
“Please, Amelia. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent.”
She puts her hands on her hips, tapping one foot against the floor. She clearly doesn’t think this is a good idea, but I’m desperate for her to agree.
The thought of her accompanying me makes the entire trip more palatable. Although I’m far from certain Barnes will be happy to see me, in fact, I’m pretty sure he’ll be pissed as hell, I know that having Amelia with me could soften the blow.
“Please,” I say again. It’s the first time I’ve begged anyone for anything in my thirty-nine years.
She sighs, closing her eyes, and I know I’ve won her over.
“Alright,” she says eventually. “But I need to talk to Annabelle before I go. Also, I don’t have a swimsuit.”
I grin. “Well, we’ll have a private pool. You won’t need one.”
She snorts. “Rich people really don’t have to worry about anything,” but her tone is playful, and the fact that she’s teasing me makes me feel a whole lot better.
“Thank you,” I say as she turns to leave. “I’ll clear it with Sterling House, and make sure it’s worth your while.”
The little smile on her lips fades, and she nods, looking distracted. “Yeah. Thanks. How long will the passport take?”
“A day. Less if I can manage it. Deal with any work you have today, and then we’ll fly out tomorrow.”
She nods, the little crease between her brows is back, but she doesn’t say anything else as she leaves the office.