2. Suzette
SUZETTE
H ow fucking dare he.
How dare this man who doesn’t know a single thing about me get to me the way he did? The way his piercing gaze seemed to see through me made my entire body heat. He pinned me where I stood. I felt the intensity of his hunger ignite through every nerve ending in my body, rendering me paralyzed.
I couldn’t even speak, let alone look at him.
It was embarrassing. Every little thing I did in that room was horribly embarrassing.
I’ll apologize, only because it’s the professional thing to do, but I’m not backing down.
My team is worth saving, worth keeping. If he dares to fuck with me …
I swallow thickly, knowing there’s not much I can do to stop him, but he’s going to hear every reason why he needs to back down before he ruins what I’ve spent a decade building.
I’ve heard rumors about him. All he does is rip apart things that aren’t profitable, selling them off or merging what’s worth salvaging with other companies. Adrian Bradford is a death sentence. He’s my worst enemy come to life and I despise Holt for leaving me in this man’s hands.
Steadying my breath, I raise my hand and form a fist at his door. One breath in, and I can’t even knock. My knuckles graze the wood and I can’t bring myself to do it. “Fucking hell,” I mutter beneath my breath.
How has he gotten under my skin the way he has? I’m a strong woman. I pride myself on it. And yet here I am, cowering in front of a closed door.
It makes me hate him all the more.
It’s not just the way he looks at me. Shaking off the anxiousness, the pent-up anger, and the desperate need to get out the rage boiling inside of me, I try yet again.
I’ll blame the hell I went through last night for being so shaken.
If I wasn’t so shocked, if I wasn’t so sleep deprived, if I wasn’t so passionate about everything that has to do with this job, storming into his office would be easy.
I know every nook and cranny of this business. When I got here, I knew nothing and quickly discovered the upper-level executives knew even less. Holt was a trust fund baby in over his head. I climbed a steep learning curve and brought my team with me.
How dare he come in here and think that he can take everything away from me? Everything that I’ve worked for. Everything that we’ve earned.
With an audible exhale, I nod. That’s right; that’s what I need to be focused on.
With another deep breath, I straighten my spine.
The image of him standing at the head of the conference table is burned into my memory.
The hint of a five-o’clock shadow showing already.
His dark gray, perfectly tailored suit and sharp jaw.
He’s like the devil—charming and wicked; threatening yet thrilling.
There’s a power beneath him that’s undeniable.
A thought creeps into my mind. Even if he was stripped bare of every expensive fabric that graced his lean but muscular frame, even then, I imagine that man would look expensive as hell.
It’s not wealth, it’s something else. Something entirely different than what I’m used to.
All of these men can walk around in whatever designer suit they’d like but they’d still look cheap.
They wouldn’t know their dicks from the pens they use to sign away their inheritances.
And yet here’s a man, the first one I’ve seen in a long damn time since my divorce has been settled, who makes all of those bastards who have hit on me, who have expected things from me simply because of their bank accounts, look like the arrogant pricks they are.
Every man I’ve ever laid eyes on in all of New York City pales in comparison to Adrian Bradford. And I was safely surrounded by others, in the light of day, for a total of less than ten minutes.
Here I stand, outside his door, daring to get closer to him and all alone, after hours …
this door will remain wide open so long as I’m here.
That’s for damn sure. There’s not a soul on this level and truth be told, I’m not even sure he’s in this room.
It’s Holt’s former office and the top floor was reserved for him and meetings only.
So … even if this door was open, we’d still be alone.
With my blood heating and my nerves running high, no matter how much I’d like them not to, I imagine what he’ll do.
I imagine Adrian saying the kind of things that have been said to me in the past by men who have held power over me, like my husband used to, and it has a completely different effect on me today than it ever has before.
The very idea of it turns workplace harassment from a lawsuit waiting to happen, into late-night thoughts in bed I share with my vibrator.
Knock , knock , knock .
My hand trembles at my side, but I hold my ground.
Raising my voice, I call out, “Adrian, I’d like—” The door opens far too quickly. I’m left with my mouth hanging open, my words spoken far too loudly and the rest of whatever I was going to say jumbled at the back of my throat.
My heart races as I realize just how close to this man I am.
It’s no longer a thought, it’s reality. He’s a man who intimidates me.
Not only because of his power, of him merely being in this building and what that means.
But also because of what he does to me simply by existing.
It’s sinful, it’s wrong. I fucking hate it.
“Ms. Parks.”
Fuck.
My name sounds positively sinful in the rumble of his baritone voice.
His steely gaze never leaves mine as I stand there, once again paralyzed.
Taking one step back, barely giving me enough room to come in, he motions with his right hand, his left hand holding the doorframe.
I break the hold he has me under, shifting my attention to the wall of windows behind his desk.
They’re paned windows running from floor to ceiling, and the city is vibrant behind them.
I know from experience it’s loud as hell far down from this high-rise.
But right now, this sight could be a painting, a beautiful masterpiece of a deep blue sky turning a dusky gray with silver buildings that creep into the clouds, the yellow squares of illuminated office windows slowly bringing light to the incoming night.
I’ve never stepped foot in this office before.
I’ve never been invited here by Holt, I only knew it was his office.
From here on out he’ll be known as the asshole who took a hefty paycheck instead of giving this company what it truly needed.
Essentially, he got a get-out-of-jail-free card and we got … Adrian Bradford.
The room is sparsely furnished. A hardwood maple desk carved with intricate detail catches my eye first. From the smell of lemon in the air, it’s been freshly polished. A dark auburn leather wingback chair sits at its head, with two high-back lounge chairs across from it.
Other than that, the vast room is empty, with blank walls that have been freshly painted as if it were brand new. In other words, on the market for the new buyer.
Anger simmers inside of me.
It’s only when the door shuts behind me that I remember exactly what I’m doing here.
Although the city will never cease to amaze me.
I shudder at the click behind me, turning quickly to find Adrian between myself and the door.
Tapping the face of his watch, Adrian tells me, “It’s nearly six, Suzette. ”
“Suzette?” is all I can manage. There’s tension between us, thick and hot.
His full lips slip into a smirk. “That’s what I said.” He’s calm and so damn sure of himself. Everything I normally am.
“Oh, I’m Suzette now?” Even to my own ears the indignation sounds feigned. My voice quavers as I add, “Only a moment ago I was Ms. Parks.”
With a single step forward, Adrian adjusts the expensive silk tie around his neck and his expansive, barren office ignites in an instant.
For a moment, a very quick moment, his icy blue gaze drops to my lips but then they reach my eyes again before I can object to wherever his thoughts have gone. “I said it’s nearly six,” he murmurs. “Well, after five.”
My fingers busy themselves with the hems of my sleeves.
I haven’t felt so nervous in ages, not since I first stepped foot in this city.
All of the anxiousness that comes with starting over, starting something new that pushes you out of your comfort zone is not unfamiliar to me, although it’s been a long damn time since I last felt this way. Not since my divorce was finalized.
“Is that a way to tell me to hurry up, Mr. Bradford?”
“No. Not at all. After six I have other business to discuss with you.”
“After six?”
“Once work is over.” He swallows and my treacherous mind focuses on the cords of his neck. The curves of it, the strength there and that masculine scent, fresh and clean with a hint of sandalwood.
“I beg your pardon, but I’m here on business.”
“Yes … other business than what we discussed this afternoon.” My pulse races as he locks his gaze with mine. I can’t help but to feel like the prey, already caught by a much too powerful hunter. One who wants to play with his dinner before devouring it whole.
“Other business?” Again my voice falters. I make the next statement firm. “What could I possibly want to discuss with you? Other than the threat of you simply stepping into this building.” I add with indignation, “My building.”
With the little courage I can muster, I lift up my chin.
Feeling what I felt hours ago in that boardroom creep back into the forefront of my mind, I try to shove it down.
He’s no longer a sex god reducing me to a puddle of want.
He’s the man who threatens my very career.
And for what? For statistics on the balance sheet?
For the likelihood of an easy payout rather than doing the hard work?
Just as the thought hits me, Adrian checks his watch again. “It’s six now, Ms. Parks.”