Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
ASPEN
I strutted down the hall with shame, dread, excitement, and a slew of other emotions I attempted to shove down under an icy veneer. The juxtaposition of my insides versus my outside would have been comical if it were anyone else but me. Walking confidently toward a business meeting with a file of ways to increase our profits. Shaking on the inside because I knew Lucian would be sitting across the table.
He’d been out of the office for the last week, and it annoyed me how much I noticed his absence. I exited the elevator every day and held my breath, expecting him to be waiting in my office to make me face what had happened.
And I couldn’t. Hell, I’d been avoiding my own thoughts of “what the fuck had that been?” The way I ceded all control to him. The way his demands calmed me. All of it left me reeling and avoiding digging too deep.
I’d run approximately forty-six miles on my treadmill just to keep myself busy and too exhausted to stay awake to think it over when I finally laid down to sleep. Chaotic thoughts ran amok, and the worst part was, after that first night, I couldn’t even bring myself to call Ash like I usually did when I was on edge.
Which was a whole other “what the fuck is going on” thought I preferred to ignore.
However, my time was up because I had no doubt that when I entered the room, he’d look at me like he knew all my secrets and had no plans of letting me hide them. I’d known men like him before and they never passed up an opportunity to lord a weakness over their foes. Which was why I planned my outfit with precision. He might have seen me weak, but I saw his desire before his phone went off, and I armed myself with the knowledge.
I wore red lipstick, an extra tight pencil skirt, a simple T-shirt, stilettos, and pantyhose with a pinstripe up the back. If he wanted to look at me, then I’d make sure he had something to see from my lips to my toes, hoping to create chaos in his mind in return—or his pants.
Sucking in one last deep breath, I reached the meeting room door. With a slow exhale, I ensured a blank face, and walked into the lion’s den.
Of course, he was already there. Sitting at the far side of the room, blending into the shadows with his all-black suit, shirt, and tie. He looked just as dark and dangerous as when I first met him.
Except this time, he wasn’t alone.
The svelte blonde from accounting sat beside him. Emily. She leaned into his space more than anyone should in a place of business, standing out against his darkness with her golden hair, burgundy jacket, and brilliant smile. She was gorgeous, and I hated her for it, because any woman who could pull off a bold jacket like that deserved respect, and I wasn’t petty enough to deny it—just be irritated by it.
“Excuse me, Aspen,” a voice said behind me.
Upon hearing my name, Lucian looked up and locked eyes with mine. The sudden connection with the inky depths sent shockwaves down my spine. Every moment I’d minimized and shoved aside came rushing back. The flashing memories of his hand around my throat and our mouths so close jarred me back to reality. I blinked, breaking the spell.
In my haze, I’d stopped and blocked the door. The person cleared their throat. “Sorry, Jeremy,” I apologized, stepping aside.
“No worries. Sometimes I struggle to get past the threshold to these meetings too,” he joked. However, as if he realized who he was talking to, he sobered and backtracked. “I mean, not that I don’t love it here. I do. And as far as business meetings go, these are amazing. Totally great.”
I held up my hand and laughed. “No need to explain. I’m pretty sure I have at least twenty drafts in my emails with excuses as to why I can’t make the meeting.”
“Whew.” He sat and wiped pretend sweat from his forehead. “I wouldn’t want the boss’s daughter to think I didn’t love my job.”
I dropped my chin to my chest, hiding a wince as I pulled out the chair beside him. Having your dad own the company created a double-edged sword. People respected you—you just never knew for sure if they respected you because of how hard you worked or because they thought they had to stay in the good graces of the owner.
No matter their reasoning, I pushed on like the stigma didn’t exist and did everything I could to earn their respect, being friendly and supportive. “Please,” I scoffed. “As if anything I said could influence my dad and his faith in you. You make the marketing department what it is. He knows how much profits increased after you became director.”
He nodded his appreciation and proceeded to tell me a story about his previous job and their horrible meetings. I tried to pay attention, but heat buzzed along my skin, and I knew it came from the way Lucian watched me.
I hummed and smiled, attempting to appear like I heard what Jeremy said, but in reality, all my attention was focused on how I angled myself, hoping to tease Lucian with a view of my cleavage. On how I slid my tongue along my lips before relaxing them into the perfect pout. On trying to guess which part of me he was looking at based on the heat burning along my skin.
My father entered, claiming the seat at the head of the table. Just before the meeting started, I stole a glance across the room, worried if I’d find Lucian’s attention on Emily, and I made his stare on me up.
I hadn’t.
His gaze held mine. One brow raised enough to know he was calling me out for my every move.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” my father began.
I broke the connection, happier than ever before for the start of a business meeting. Dad introduced Lucian to the table of directors and managers, and I refrained from looking his way for the rest of the meeting.
Not even when I wanted to see his reaction to Mark from finance announcing that I accrued the highest earning contracts for the quarter. God, I bet he scowled and rolled his eyes. He probably assumed I slept my way to those numbers or batted my lashes as I tossed around the daddy card to be so successful. Just imagining his irritation was enough to keep my eyes glued to the packet in front of me.
“Miss Quinn,” Shiloh called from across the table when it was my turn to present updates to the group. “Why don’t you tell us about your latest acquisitions?”
“Of course.” I beamed, still keeping my eyes averted from the looming shadow calling my name. Other than running like a madwoman to exhaust myself every night and avoid thinking too much, I also threw myself into work. I usually saw one-to-three concerts a week, but I needed more to distract myself. “I attended five concerts last week. Unfortunately, three of them were a bust. However, the one band Ash suggested was quite good.”
“Ash Killian from Haunted Obsession?” Lucian’s deep voice cut in.
As much as I wanted to continue my no eye contact streak, I couldn’t look petty and ignore a direct question. “Yes,” I answered, giving him a bored stared.
“Do you often take suggestions from band members, or do you have a more friendly relationship with Mr. Killian?” he asked.
My father snorted. “Ash and Aspen have known each other since we first signed the boys. She’s close with all of them. But it is also common to receive information via word-of-mouth from our current artists.”
“Interesting,” Lucian said. The small tic in his jaw hinted to his irritation.
I didn’t understand his ire and brushed it away. He probably thought I earned special privileges through my friendship with Ash, like he assumed I did with my father. Just another negative tally in my column.
“Anyway,” I said, looking back at my notes. “I have a meeting with the band’s manager scheduled for next week to possibly sign them to Quinn Music Group. While the other bands didn’t interest me, I did stumble upon an opening act solo artist that I also scheduled a meeting with.”
“And the fifth concert?” Lucian asked, speaking up more than he had with any other employee’s summary at the table.
Again, with the most blank stare I could muster, I met his gaze, raising my brow in question.
“You said you attended five concerts?” he clarified.
“Oh, the last one was for personal purposes.”
“On the company dime?”
I held his stare, imagining the members of the meeting looking side to side, watching us volley pointed questions and statements back and forth. “On my dime.”
“Hmm,” he hummed.
“Although,” I announced when he started to drop his gaze. “I did make notes at the event, which could be counted as a research endeavor for the company. But I’m fine keeping it on my dime.” I offered an icy smile before dismissing him and turning to Jeremy. “Which was my last point to discuss before passing the baton. I figured I could get with you about a new approach to concert marketing that I noticed the band use at the concert I attended. Off the clock.”
“Of course,” Jeremy agreed, bouncing his gaze between me and Lucian.
With my notes covered, I closed my folder and sat back with a victorious smile. Again, heat stroked along my skin, and I knew it was from Lucian’s direction.
Eat your heart out, Mr. D&D.
I kept my gaze away from his for the rest of the meeting and planned on darting out to avoid him all together until Jeremy stopped me to schedule the conversation I mentioned. By the time I made my escape and managed four steps closer to freedom, Lucian blocked my path.
“Look who was the shining star at this meeting,” he goaded.
“We can’t all be clouds of darkness,” I snarked.
“And we can’t all be spoiled princesses.”
“I’d rather be a princess than an arrogant as?—”
“Lucian?” Emily called with the perfect interruption.
Somehow, all the times I imagined seeing Lucian after that night, I never pictured us bickering like children at each other’s throats. And despite appreciating her interruption before we spiraled, I hated the way she smiled at him. Or how he smiled back. Or how I even cared that they smiled at each other because why the hell should I care?
Jesus , I groaned.
Lucian shifted his attention to Emily, allowing space for her to notice me. “Oh, hello, Miss Quinn.”
“Hello, Miss Green. It’s good to see you again,” I greeted cordially, shoving back every ridiculous ounce of negative feeling I had no right to feel.
She glanced between us. “I hope I didn’t interrupt an important conversation.”
“Not at all,” Lucian assured.
Despite his innocent tone, his devious smirk put me on edge, bracing for impact.
“Miss Quinn was just leaving to copy these for me.” He held out an inch thick file folder. “Right, Miss Quinn? Or did you want to finish what you were saying before?”
I glared at the files, then back up at him.
He assumed I wouldn’t call him an asshole in front of an employee—but I had no problem calling someone what they truly were. “Copy them yourself, asshole. I’m not your secretary.”
With no regrets, I made my exit.