12. June
12
JUNE
W ho turned the lights on? Anderson is still in bed, and I didn’t do it. Maybe turndown service? But why would?—"
Oh shit. It’s morning!
“Anderson, wake up! We overslept!” I jump out of bed, not waiting for him to respond. On my way to the shower, I hear him mumble into the pillow, but I can’t stop now. I have the Kerwin presentation in less than an hour.
Never have I scrubbed a debauched night off my body so fast. But even as I rub the soap all over, I can’t stop thinking about last night. Not the presentation work. Anderson. The way he touched me in places I’ve never let anyone else explore…hell, I’m getting distracted. Focus, June.
Promising my body to revisit what we did is the only way for me to get out of the shower without jumping his bones. I’m still tender from last night, but I am so game for that again. It was earth-shattering, and I want more.
I throw on the pantsuit I had packed last night as Anderson manages to sit up in bed. “Good morning. I am sorry to fly out of here, but?—"
“It’s fine, baby,” he says with a sleepy smile. “I have to get going, too. But I have a little more leeway on when I walk into the office than you do.”
I nod once, then bend over for a kiss. He grabs me and pulls me onto his lap for a better kiss, one that swipes any thought I had of work and replaces them with thoughts of last night. I growl in his mouth, annoyed that I have to pull away. “One of us has to be a responsible adult.”
He grins. “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t going to let it go anywhere.”
“Then why are you hard?”
His grip tightens. “That’s entirely your fault, missy. You look too sexy in that pantsuit. And out of it. And in your floppy pajamas, and your?—"
I giggle. “Thank you, but I have to get going.”
“Alright, alright.” With reservations, he relinquishes his hold on my hip. “I know you have to run. Sorry.”
“We can continue this conversation tonight. Or maybe this afternoon if I can get out of there early.”
He grins. “Deal.”
With that, I bolt out of the most expensive hotel room I have ever stayed in and onto the street. My office isn’t far, and thankfully, it’s not raining today. Just freaking freezing. But I’ll take that over icy rain or snow.
Once I get to work, I grab a coffee on my way to my office. It’s then that I realize Anderson let me sleep for an hour last night. One solitary hour. The initial jolt of adrenaline from when I realized we’d overslept is gone, but the coffee hits way too hard and too fast, and I have the shakes in minutes that feel like seconds.
I get to the conference room, and most of the people are already inside, including my boss, Andre Moeller. He’s a strange man, and I cannot figure him out. Andre was friendly with Elliot West—Anderson’s dad—a long time ago, but they had a falling out after a debt wasn’t paid, and in response, Andre kidnapped me. Once that got settled, he offered me a job, and because Elliot had me blackballed out of my industry otherwise, I took it out of desperation. In his own way, Andre has been nothing but respectful to me. But the man is a sociopath, and I cannot afford to forget that. Who else has someone kidnapped?
He smiles when he sees me enter the room, and there is always something unsettling about his smiles. It’s like watching a shark smile right as they close in on you. Not so much a smile as opening their mouth a bit wider to swallow you whole.
Andre is a white man in his fifties with brown hair, neatly trimmed and silver-sided. He has a medium build, which makes you want to underestimate him. But looking into his green eyes tells you that would be your final mistake. “June, by the spring in your step, I assume you’re here to dazzle us. By all means, get started.”
“I thought the others would be?—"
“Now.”
Okey dokey. I smile and nod, then get jacked into the system for the big screen on the far wall. The conference rooms are almost all the same, except this one. It’s the room Andre uses exclusively, so it has the best over-padded chairs, espresso station, electronics, and views. Even though I have the caffeine shakes, I eye the espresso station longingly before I begin.
Apparently, an hour of sleep after a night of filthy sex was exactly what I needed because I sailed through the presentation. When the latecomers showed up, I didn’t stutter. My data was on-point, my voice clear, and for once, I actually enjoyed presenting my work to Andre. Fielding his questions was a breeze. I felt less like a bug under his magnifying glass, and more like the professional that I am. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt gratified in my career.
Before everything went to shit at my former employer, I’d begun to hate my job because I was busy catering to the rich and famous and helping them avoid their rightful tax burden. Everything annoyed me and I was counting the years until retirement. After Elliot tore my career apart and left it in shreds, I hated that being a tax attorney left me with so few options outside of my field, but right now, I’m almost grateful for his foolishness because it got me here to this moment.
Andre grins at the end of things. “So, I’ll be able to purchase all of them if I’m following you.”
I nod. “Every last share will be yours, Andre. All you have to do is place the order. The other shareholders are looking forward to the change, and those who object, well, they don’t have a leg to stand on.”
He claps once, startling everyone else, but then they nervously clap with him, and the mood in the room shifts. “June, I knew you had it in you. You doubted yourself, but I knew. I told myself, there is a woman with a fire in her that would burn down cities for me if I let her. This is big. Huge, really. And you’ll be by my side for all of it. We will remake Boston in my image. The Moeller name will echo?—"
His phone rings, and he interrupts himself to take it but says, “Tell Marla to get champagne for everyone. We’re celebrating.”
I smile, happy he is so happy and also glad he got a call because I sense that little speech of his could have gone on forever. I start for the door to tell the EA in the vestibule to grab the champagne.
Moeller cuts himself off again and says, “Not you, June. You don’t do those kinds of errands anymore. Harrison, go tell Marla.”
Harrison is one of his partners, and now he’s the one made to do errands Andre sees as beneath me? Is he getting ousted? He winces a bit before being made into Andre’s errand boy. But once the champagne is poured, everyone is more relaxed. Even Harrison.
I cannot believe how easily the presentation came to me. I’m sure it helps that I was able to tell Andre what he wanted to hear, but still, I’m pretty proud of that. Everyone mixes into different clusters of chatting suits, and a few congratulate me on my work, but when Andre comes to me, I’m less nervous than usual.
Sure, it wouldn’t shock me to see him push a partner out of a window one day, but today, I’ve made him happy, so I have no reason to think something is up.
“You saved me, June. My hero.”
I laugh and sip, unsure quite what to say. I’m glad to have the crystal flute in hand. It gives me something to stall with. “I’m just happy to help, Andre.”
“You have earned my trust, and I admit, there are few who have it. Certainly not this lot,” he says dismissively as he looks around. No one is paying attention to us—not outwardly. But I’m sure each of them heard that, and it’s a little awkward for me. Some of these people are my direct colleagues. He continues, “As the purchases go through, I’ll want you as my right hand on the deals.”
“Of course.”
“Pity about your fiancé.”
I should be used to Andre’s wild subject changes by now, but I’m not, especially when he hits Anderson territory. “Pity?”
He takes my hand, examining my ring. Still smiling, but less so around his eyes now. “He has exquisite taste.” He looks into my eyes. “In rings, I mean.” He does not mean rings.
I’ve always wondered if Andre’s flattery is interest, and I still can’t quite tell. Some men just like to speak flirtatiously to keep a woman off her game. But he has no reason to do that now. So, I go with a neutral response. “Anderson picked well.”
“Truly, he did.” His lips twitch. “I hope he does not mind when you’ll be working late at the office. We’ll practically be on top of each other until this is done.”
I gulp the champagne, wishing it was whiskey. “He knows what my work entails. It’ll be fine.”
Andre closes the gap between us, almost in kissing distance, and I could not be less comfortable. But I don’t step back. If this is some kind of power play, I’m not giving in. His voice is quieter now. “I require a picture from my office, and I’d like you to get it for me while I handle some things here. It’s on a silver digital frame, one of those that changes the images every minute. Right on my desk. You can’t miss it.”
“Sure,” I almost frown. I fetch his personal things now? Weird. Maybe that’s a step up from ordering champagne, I can’t tell. “But I don’t have access?—"
He passes me his guest keycard. “Now you do. Thank you in advance.” With that, he strolls to annoy Harrison.
When it comes to Andre Moeller, I never know what to expect. But today has gone better than it has any right to, so I zip out with the keycard and go to his office. It’s huge and extravagant, just as I expected for someone of his stature. But I’m not here to stare, so I head straight for his desk and grab the picture frame. It’s the only one there, so that makes it easier.
But as I grab it, a word catches my eye on some papers on his desk. “E. West.”
I shouldn’t snoop. I know this. But when it comes to Anderson’s family, I don’t have boundaries. Quickly, I flick through the paperwork, and as I do, my stomach sinks. No, no, no, please, no.
Every company Andre has had me set up for him to take over is linked to Elliot West. He is the majority shareholder, or sometimes, the silent partner, or set up in one arrangement or another, and … he’s going to lose everything but West Media. If he loses all his other holdings, how long is it before Andre comes for that, too? How long before his shareholders lose their faith in Elliot? For that matter, how long before the West family is a relic from a bygone era?
I’m gonna be sick.
I’ve been working to tear the West family apart this whole time. What have I done?