13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
T he flight and drive back to San Francisco were quiet. For her part, Rowan was filled with confusion and needed time to think, and not about the job, though that would come soon enough. The man sitting beside her confused the hell out of her.
She glanced at his profile as he checked his phone now that they were back in a service area. He’d been solicitous of her this morning, concerned for her comfort, but distant. Back in professional mode. Completely different from her quaking insides. She woke up to an empty bed, though his side was still warm. He’d spent the night holding her in his arms. That brought a smile to her face, then memories of what they’d done had filled her with that satiated, happy post-coital bliss. She’d stretched her arms over her head, reveling in the feeling just as he’d come from the bathroom, fully dressed. He’d frozen, eyed her with a feral need, and had taken a step toward her before the shutter came down, and his face went carefully blank.
“We should get back to the office,” he’d said, walking out of the bedroom. That was all.
Rowan had rolled to her side and curled into a tight ball to keep the hurt from overwhelming her.
We should get back to the office. That’s where his focus had turned. Gerard, always the quintessential host, hadn’t been unkind. But any hint of the emotion she’d seen last night was gone, replaced by the financier and mega-businessman she’d first come to know.
She’d gotten up. Showered. Dressed. Packed.
Last night was over. Today, they were back to all business, and that was what she’d signed up for. Sadly she couldn’t make the switch as easily as he could. Last night had shaken her to her core. She’d made love to her boss, seen a side of him she never thought she’d see, and that was a huge problem, since she was falling for that side of Gerard. He could be considerate, willing to listen to alternatives, and caring. Oh, so caring, especially in bed.
Had something happened between last night and this morning? A momentary panic filled her. Had he found out about her heritage before she could tell him? No. There was nothing but a landline at the cabin, and she’d never heard it ring. Which made her wonder if everything he’d done at the cabin had been designed to prime her for last night. Had he played her? Rowan might never know, since he’d clearly reverted to their former relationship. There would be no small talk, no heart-to-heart.
Well, she could do that too. She hoped.
David pulled into the Barrett Financial Building executive entrance, which she had heard led directly into an elevator.
“Thank you, David,” she said when he helped her from the car and got her suitcase out of the trunk. “I appreciate the rides.”
“You’re very welcome, Ms. McCarthy.” He said her name like he could hear the falsehood in it. She closed her eyes for a moment, calming herself. She really needed to tell Gerard, to not have any secrets between them. She’d wanted to this morning. His standoffish attitude had changed that. Maybe she should talk to him now?
He waited by the elevator door for her, a deep scowl on his face. She joined him and they stepped in. As the car started to rise, Rowan turned to him. “Gerard—”
“You probably should call me Mr. Barrett here,” he said, looking everywhere but at her.
Well, that sat in her stomach like molten rocks. “Fine. Mr. Barrett,” she tried again. “We need to talk.”
“Last night was last night. We both knew that. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“But—”
He looked down at her then. “Ms. McCarthy, we cannot talk about last night. At least, not here.”
“I’m not—”
“Leave it be.” The authoritative tone he used shut her up very effectively. Damn him. Frustrated that she couldn’t get a word in edgewise, Rowan held her tongue. The elevator doors opened seconds later on her floor.
“Let me know what you find out,” he said.
“You gave me until end of day tomorrow.”
“I want an update today.”
“And that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’ll have that update and the mock-up of the proposal in your email by end of day.” Rowan walked off the elevator with her suitcase without looking back, refusing to give Mr. Cold another moment of her time. What she really wanted to do was stomp her feet and scream until the building shook. What the hell game was Gerard up to? That man could draw out the worst in her without even trying.
The floor was eerily silent, making her roller sound like plane engines as she wheeled it into her office and stowed it beside her credenza, weirdly, calming her down. She loved being here. It smelled good, like money and big business. Her passion. She went to the door and looked out on the rows of cubicles, mostly empty on Sunday. Mostly? She glanced down the row and saw lights on in one of the cubicles. She walked down to check it out and found Michael sitting at the desk.
“Michael—”
He whirled around, tapping the button that sent his screen to sleep as he did so. “Rowan. You startled me. I thought you’d be gone until Monday morning. Aren’t you working on some secret project with our boss?”
The resentment in his voice surprised her. Michael had always shown good intentions toward anything that furthered this company and, thereby, his career. For some reason, he clearly resented not knowing what she was working on at the moment.
“We came back early to deal with some things. Why are you here, and why are you sitting at Linda’s desk?”
“Oh, I just came in to finalize the report for the board on the theft and subsequent arrest, and Linda’s got a nice fan at her desk, so I chose to sit here.”
Funny. She could have sworn she’d seen a fund modification screen on the monitor before it went dark. Shaking her head, Rowan realized that Gerard’s change of attitude and the fund issues were making her suspicious of everything. Michael had always been more than helpful.
Now, as he stood, she tried to bury her doubt. “All right. Send the report to me. I have to meet with Mr. Barrett at the end of today. I’ll go over it with him then.”
“You don’t want me to email it?”
“No. It should come from me. Leave your name on it. You know I’ll give you complete credit for the report.”
“You always have.” He tossed a big smile at her and turned toward his office.
“Send me the report right away so I can go over it and ask you any questions before you leave today.”
“Sure thing, boss.” He waved over his shoulder but didn’t turn around.
Was everyone off their feed today? Where had the jovial Michael Wentworth disappeared to? Shaking her head yet again, Rowan went back to her office, sat down, and booted up her system, hoping work could distract her from what she really wanted to stop thinking about.
By seven p.m., she’d had enough. She’d spent the entire day searching for any thread that would explain the issues with the Drekler Fund, to no avail. Time to face the boss’s ire. She texted him that she was ready to meet. He responded right away.
Come on up.
She grabbed the mockup and email she’d printed about the theft and headed for the elevators, actually dreading having to be in the man’s presence. He’d truly done the “love ’em and leave ’em” thing with her. That’s what she’d signed up for, but foolishly, she’d thought what happened last night meant something to him.
She got off the elevator and walked to Gerard’s office, watching him through the clear walls where he studied his monitor intently. He didn’t look up until she tapped on his closed door.
“Come in.”
She opened the door as he moved to the window, staring out at the downtown summer evening, hands deep in his pockets.
Gerard didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to see the hurt in her eyes and know he’d put it there. In the stark light of day, his thoughts had come back to haunt him.
Good things never stuck to him. When it came to relationships, that was certainly true. He’d chosen long ago to leave a night as a night and not turn any interlude into a weekend, a week, a month, or beyond.
Rowan wasn’t like the women he usually dated. They were generally sleek and, for the most part, driven, though for different reasons. He met his dates in social situations, and they were more interested in fun than work. That wasn’t Rowan’s focus. She wanted to do the best job. It was as simple as that. On top of her work ethic, she was smart, pretty, and sleek was no longer his preference in women. He wanted curves. Rowan’s curves. Gerard didn’t know why she’d agreed to last night, and he would be forever grateful that she had, but she’d want it all. His time, his focus, his commitment. That was something he couldn’t give her, and for the first time in his life, he retreated rather than dealing with the situation. He realized now he’d done that for himself, not for her, because he’d hurt her without saying a word.
Fuck. The worst part was that he wanted to pull her into his arms and take her pain away. He wanted that relationship, and a life without her in it seemed desolate to him. There was just too much at stake to give in to that. Even as an owner, his position in the company was fragile. One leaked office romance, and Silverman would oust him. That was publicity Barrett Investment Group didn’t need, especially with the biggest bid in the company’s history about to be submitted.
“Mr. Barrett?”
He looked at her then. She looked tired. And worried. And yes, hurt. “Sorry,” he said, recognizing that there was a lot more to his apology than just his current attitude.
“I’ve spoken with Michael and have the update about the theft.” She held up a piece of paper. “I also have the proposal jacket mock-up for your review.”
“Thank you. If you could just set them on my desk, I’ll review them later.” He didn’t move from the window. He couldn’t get close to her. Hell, he could smell the floral scent of her shampoo from here. The damn plane and limo had been full of it.
Rowan put the neat pile in the center of his desk and backed up. “Will there be anything else?”
“How’s the fund investigation going?”
She bit her lower lip, and his body responded, damn it. The last time she’d done that, he’d been deep inside her. Fuck. With extreme difficulty, Gerard quelled the fire growing inside him, stood still, and waited for her to respond.
“Slowly. But I’ll keep at it.”
He gave her a curt nod.
“Will that be all?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” she said and turned to leave. By the time she got to the door, Gerard couldn’t stand it anymore. “Rowan?”
She stopped, hand on doorknob, and didn’t turn around.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s just too much at stake right now.”
Now she turned, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, holding her head up with a pride he knew ran deep in her. Behind the mist in her eyes, a fire glowed. An angry fire. “I get it,” Rowan said.
“I’m not sure you do.”
“Barrett Investment Group is the baby you took over from your father. You’re still trying to prove to the board you can run this company, so your position with them is precarious. A workplace romance, even the hint of one, could destroy that. I’m guessing there’s a provision in the board’s governance documents that allows them to unseat you if they can prove gross negligence. Did I miss anything?”
“No. You have it exactly right. Maybe, down the road—”
She cut him off with a slash of her hand. “Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep. I understood this was a one night stand. I signed on willingly. If I got my heart a little more involved than I should have, that’s on me. You’re off the hook.”
Without waiting for him to answer, and keeping her movements deliberate, proud, and dignified, she walked out of his office, leaving the door open. He watched her walk, not to the elevator, but to the stairs. She disappeared, swallowed by the walls of his empire, leaving a huge hole in his heart.
He was such an asshole.