Chapter Six
Joaquin couldn’t afford a single misstep. Lorenzo had retreated to his town house after the board overthrew him, but he was back at the office in the morning with a phalanx of lawyers, trying to retake his mantle.
Joaquin was no longer the teenaged boy with a black eye and nothing in his pockets, though. He had his own resources. He met his father inside the revolving door to the street with his own lawyers, a half dozen security guards and a “go quietly and this is yours” settlement offer.
After taking the envelope from Oladele, he held it out.
Lorenzo knocked it from his hand, berating him loudly for all the staff to hear as they hurried in from the street and headed to the elevator.
“You’re making a fool of yourself.” Joaquin cut through his tirade. “Take that offer. It includes a profit share in the estate in La Rioja and expires at midnight.”
His father’s hair nearly came off his head. “You can’t take that from me! I gave it to your brother. It comes back to me.”
“It will be secured in trust for your grandchildren.” The sprawling vineyard was highly profitable and was another reason Lorenzo had pressured Zurina to marry him. “If you want a benefit from it, take that offer.” Joaquin nodded at the floor, refusing to pick up the envelope.
“You think you’re getting the better of me, don’t you?” Lorenzo stepped forward to poke his chest.
“I’ve never seen anything but the worst of you.” Joaquin curled his lip. “Touch me again and you’ll see the worst of me.”
As he stared down his father, his inner antennae prickled. Siobhan walked by in his periphery.
Joaquin didn’t look, but he caught tall boots kicking a tweed skirt as she circled their group. Their kiss last night had tasted like champagne and hunger. Like the things they’d done when they had wrecked a hotel bed. Like the things he wanted to do with her again.
Leaving her last night had nearly pulled his soul from his body. He’d definitely left a piece of himself there with her.
But even though he felt her gaze on him, he didn’t allow himself to look at her. It would betray his interest to Lorenzo.
Lorenzo looked at her, though. Among his thousands of faults, he was a lecher for young women, which was objectionable any day of the week. Today his attention on Siobhan was beyond galling. It was revolting.
“Leave now,” Joaquin said in gritty warning.
Lorenzo swung his gaze back to Joaquin’s, teeth bared in a sneer. He was trying to work out whether Joaquin’s hostility was purely due to his presence here or if it had gone up a notch upon Siobhan’s arrival.
Oladele picked up the envelope and handed it to one of Lorenzo’s lawyers.
“This isn’t a negotiation. It’s that or nothing.” Joaquin pointed at the envelope.
His father spit on Joaquin’s shoes.
Joaquin spit right back and held his father’s glare of outrage. He would not back down. Not anymore.
Siobhan stood transfixed as she watched Oladele set a hand on Joaquin’s sleeve in a gentle signal to hold his temper in check.
“This isn’t over,” Lorenzo declared before storming out.
The elevator pinged next to her. Siobhan scrambled to grasp at the door, waiting while Joaquin strode toward her with his entourage of suits.
She had taken far too long deciding what to wear today, eventually choosing a short jacket in earthy brown over a tweed skirt with a fedora to protect her hair from the rain.
She offered a hesitant smile as Joaquin approached, but his gaze skimmed past her, making her stomach clench in embarrassment at trying to engage him.
She looked to the floor, still confused by his kiss after making it so clear to her that they couldn’t be anything but boss and employee.
Everyone stepped into the elevator. No one spoke as it rose, but the air was thick with undercurrents.
She picked out Joaquin’s aftershave among the other fragrances in the small space and drew it deep, filling her nostrils with the tangy, tangible feel of his cheek brushing her jaw. His hungry lips devouring hers.
Her face felt stiff with the effort of maintaining a neutral expression. It took all her effort not to glance at him as she departed with Oladele onto their floor.
She tried very hard not to betray her awareness of Joaquin, but within hours, they were called to the boardroom next to his office.
Others were already there, including Joaquin’s assistant, a young man she’d met briefly yesterday. Siobhan sent him a friendly, “Good morning.”
The other man returned her smile with a warm one of his own that quickly turned to a daunted look aimed beyond her shoulder.
She followed his line of sight to Joaquin.
He hit her with a cool stare of disapproval, one that peeled a layer from her composure, leaving her raw.
With an indignant lift of her chin, she took her seat behind Oladele while Joaquin shifted his attention to his laptop.
“Lorenzo has rejected the settlement offer and has begun a counterassault. He is claiming to still be CEO until the shareholders vote otherwise. He’s also smearing my reputation and bringing ProFab into it.
” That was Joaquin’s company in Barcelona.
“Pursue defamation charges. He must have signed nondisclosure agreements that prevent him from discussing the inner workings of LVG. See if he’s still bound by that. ”
Oladele nodded and glanced at Siobhan to make a note.
“I’ll look into the D&O liability insurance, too,” Siobhan said.
“Directors and officers,” she explained as everyone looked at her.
“Its purpose is to cover unintentional negligence, but if he was the CEO, and deliberately causes the devaluation of his company, he could be exposing himself to legal consequences. There may be a means to pursue charges. Perhaps letting him know that would encourage him to back down.”
Oladele made an approving noise and several heads nodded, but Joaquin only pinned her with an inscrutable look before turning his attention to the head of accounting, requesting an audit to prove that his father had been fabricating numbers during his tenure.
The meeting broke up and Joaquin walked out, leaving a wake of relieved exhales behind him.
As everyone rose, Oladele said, “Siobhan, will you ask Joaquin if he’s had a chance to review the documents I sent this morning? I have to return this call.”
“Of course.” Overcoming a wave of trepidation, Siobhan went to his door, which was open. He was standing at his desk, tapping on the keyboard of his laptop. She knocked.
“Come in. Close the door,” he said as he saw her.
“Oh. I’m only here to ask…” She slipped in and pressed the door closed behind her. “Oladele is wondering if you’ve had time to review the documents she sent?”
“I was about to do it. What’s going on with you and my assistant? HR frowns on office romance.”
She stood taller, insulted when his assistant was a virtual stranger and San Francisco didn’t happen.
“Has the policy changed?” she asked archly. “Because I read all of them when I onboarded. HR asks to be informed of romantic relationships to mitigate liability. If necessary, they will transfer employees without penalty.” She responded to his elevated brow with a sugary smile. “I do my homework.”
“Is that the long way of saying nothing?”
“Yes.” The heat of humiliation began climbing from her throat. “I know you think I’m fast, but I’m not frequent about it.” She turned to yank on the door latch so she didn’t have to stand here boiling in his ugly judgment of her.
“I didn’t say that,” he growled behind her.
“You implied it.” She pulled on the door.
“Wait,” he commanded.
She set her teeth and held the door open, forcing a bored expression onto her face as she turned back to him.
“That was a good idea about the D&O insurance,” he said begrudgingly. “It won’t work—”
“Is that a compliment? Because you’ve buried it,” she mocked.
“Lorenzo doesn’t scare easily,” he continued without reacting to her sarcasm. “But I can see that you’re looking for fresh angles of attack. That’s the sort of ingenuity I appreciate in the people who work for me. Let me know if you find something with teeth.”
Oh. He really was complimenting her.
Was she supposed to say thank you? You’re welcome?
She definitely wasn’t supposed to stand here gawking while he said impassively, “Anything else?”
“No.” She left, flushed and disconcerted by the entire exchange.
The rest of the week passed in similar encounters where Joaquin largely ignored her unless she had the nerve to speak up. He never berated her for offering an opinion, but he didn’t express overt appreciation again.
She kept reminding herself that they had both agreed—that she wanted as much as he did—to leave their one-night stand in the past.
But she still experienced a thrill of anticipation each time Oladele said, “We’re needed upstairs.”
Simply being in a room with Joaquin wired her with excitement.
“I know this has been a demanding time,” Joaquin said on Friday afternoon, wrapping up a meeting in the boardroom where someone had brought homemade polvorónes, a shortbread-style cookie, and anise-flavored crumble cookies called mantecados.
“You’ve earned your weekend. Rest up and give me your best for one more week.
Then we can all relax through the Christmas break. ”
Rather than leave as he usually did, he hung back to answer a question from someone in PR.
“Gracias,” Siobhan murmured as she moved past them.
“Oh, that’s you, Ms. Upton,” Joaquin said with an ironic quirk of his mouth. “I didn’t recognize you in your glasses.”
Her pulse tripped over the fact he had noticed her at all, let alone such a tiny detail. She touched the navy-blue frames.
“Is that a joke?” She couldn’t believe he was making one, not that he had failed to recognize her.
“Yes.” The corner of his mouth indented with self-deprecating amusement.
Someone said something about superhero disguises and conversation turned to the latest blockbuster scheduled to release over the holidays.
She followed the crowd to the elevators, not letting herself look back, but she was still replaying his remark, shyly gratified to have provoked his almost-smile.
“Siobhan.” Oladele hurried out from her office as Siobhan arrived at her desk. “This was delivered by courier while we were upstairs.” She handed over an envelope. “Joaquin needs to see it. See if you can catch him before he leaves.”
Siobhan hurried back to the elevator, past his assistant at the reception desk, and found him locking his office door at the end of the empty corridor.
“Oh, good. I thought I might miss you.” She strode toward him. “Oladele said this was left on her desk while we were in the meeting.” She halted as she reached him, but had the strangest sensation of continuing forward. She slapped a hand on the wall, catching her balance, alarmed.
A firm hand wrapped around her arm. “Are you all right?”
“No,” she said reflexively. “Yes. I’m not sure. Just a little dizzy. I think I caught a bug.”
Heat suffused her at the way his grip eased, but his hand stayed on her arm. She looked at it, wondering if he could feel the way her muscles were melting and her blood was turning to honey.
He released her and his fingers rubbed into his palm.
She adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “I was with my sister’s kids last weekend. I love them to death, but children are walking petri dishes.”
“Reason number one million why I never plan to have them.” He shook the pages from the opened envelope.
“Really? That surprises me.”
He paused to lift his gaze, snagging hers without effort.
She didn’t know how to interpret that and quickly babbled, “It’s just that I read you were engaged last year. That suggests you were planning to start a family.”
“Siobhan. This conversation is inappropriate.” He used an even tone and he wasn’t wrong, but she took his remark like a slap. One she deserved.
He had expressed a normal concern for a coworker and she had let it devolve into telling him her life history and admitted to looking him up.
Bringing up his romantic history, asking him about his plans to have children, was totally offside.
The fact that they had a history between them pushed her inquiry from nosy into the sort of thing one asked an intimate partner as a compatibility check.
While her cheeks flamed with chagrin, she glanced over her shoulder. The doors to the corridor were closed, but they might not be as alone as they thought. His assistant had still been at his desk by the elevators. There could be stragglers in the boardroom.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stricken and unable to raise her eyes to see what was in his expression. “I’ll go.” She pivoted one foot.
“Let me see what this is first,” he muttered and glanced over the cover letter then swore tiredly.
“My father is taking LV Global to court. This is what sort of man he is.” He fluttered the pages in impotent fury.
“He would rather lock me into years of court appearances and legal fees, demonstrating to the entire world that he is no longer fit to run this company, than accept that irrefutable fact. Give this back to Oladele. Tell her we’ll discuss it Monday. Then go home and get some rest.”
She wordlessly took the papers, fighting to keep her chin up as he walked alongside her to the elevator. Did he have to step into it with her? The space felt so claustrophobic she could hardly breathe. She kept replaying her inappropriate words, feeling unbearably gauche.
“You could make this easier,” he said as the elevator descended. “Wear ugly clothes. Stop showering.”
They were both staring straight ahead. For a second, she wondered if she had heard him correctly. Then she thought about telling him that was inappropriate, but a tiny glow flickered to life in her chest and began to expand, warming her to her fingertips and toes.
Every day she came to work anticipating her moments with him, and every day she felt tortured by them. Let down, even. She thought about their kisses and their lovemaking far too often. She reminded herself constantly that they weren’t going back to that.
But he seemed to be telling her that he still felt this awareness, too. This attraction.
As the elevator stopped on her floor, she said, “I’m probably carrying a deadly plague.”
The doors opened.
“See? Was that hard?” he drawled.
She bit back her pleased smile as she walked away.