chapter TWENTY-SIX #2
I watch the numbers on the panel above the door rise and wonder what I am doing with a man who doesn’t just work in a building in midtown Manhattan, he owns it.
Shaking my head I stretch out my hand and feel the burn. It’s becoming a bad habit of mine again.
When the doors open, I exit to an office of dark mahogany and glass. There is a reception desk in the open waiting room, but no one is behind it. The computer is off and the chair is pushed in as if the person has left for the day. Nice to know Mr. Asher isn’t a total slave driver.
To the left of the reception desk is a set of double doors with a name plaque on the door that reads “Edward Asher.” That must have been his grandfather’s office.
To my near right is a seating area of sleek black leather and my eyes immediately fixate on the massive fish tank that nearly takes up the entire wall.
Before I am able to walk over to it, I hear voices coming from the large double doors on the far back right, past the fish tank and to the side of the reception desk. One of the doors is slightly ajar and the voices behind it are loud enough they can be heard from the waiting area.
“ . . . hanging out at that silly little school. You have decisions to make, and you are neglecting them.” It’s a woman, her voice deep and throaty.
“Security has you on the red list. How did you get up here? I told you months ago it was over.”
“Yes, I remember, in Italy when you tossed me off your boat like a two-bit hooker.”
Italy???
“You came uninvited.”
“Well, I was certainly welcomed while I was there.”
“You didn’t leave like you were supposed to. Why didn’t you get on the goddamned plane?”
“I had business to take care of.”
“My business, I’m sure.”
I stop moving in fear I am not supposed to be eavesdropping on this conversation.
“You have decisions to make, Asher. You told me you were signing those papers. That envelope has been following you around for over a year.”
“What does it matter to you?
“We were going to take on the world together. ‘Fuck them all,’ remember? That’s what you told me. And then you just left. It took me months to track you down.”
“I needed to get away.”
“From me? You said I was the only one who knew what it was like to be unloved. You said I was the only one who really got it.”
“I’ve changed.”
“You think you’re in love. Tell me, how has that gone for you in the past?”
“Get out!” His words are loud and booming, and I jump a little.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“I said, get out!” I hear him bang on something, possible a desk and my body flinches at the sound.
The office door opens completely and a woman exits, rubbing her hands against each other in frustration. As she walks out, she stops at the sight of me, and I recognize those dark onyx eyes.
Her lips fix into a wicked yet disappointed smirk as she slowly nods her head in understanding. Alexander is quickly behind her; his body also stops at the sight of me. He has an infuriated look on his face, and his hair is dishevelled as if he’s been running his hands through it.
I push my shoulders back and look back at Malory Dean. She still looks as sexy as she did the first time I met her, but tonight she has a determined look in her eye.
Taking three catlike steps toward me, she stops and looks down from her four-inch heels. “Emma Paige.” She says my name like it’s a revelation.
Alexander looks from her to me, uncertainty in his eyes. His footsteps are quick and heavy as he walks over to the elevator and hits the down button. “Leave.” The abrupt word is directed toward Malory.
Still looking at me, Malory’s already narrow eyes squint at me.
The ping of the elevator causes her to lift her head.
She looks over at Alexander, whose jaw is so tight I’m afraid his teeth are going to break.
Malory walks toward the elevator but before she gets in she stops.
Her eyes skirt towards me, again, for a second before zeroing in on Alexander.
“Not everyone is willing to give it up as easily as you are.”
She walks into the elevator and the doors close behind her, leaving me and Alexander alone in the waiting room. I have no idea what that exchange was about, and I have an awful feeling I don’t want to know.
Alexander walks over to me, and I temporarily lose my balance when he takes my hand and pulls me through the double door and into his office. My feet find traction as they scurry behind him.
I have so many questions to ask him but my feelings are momentarily pushed aside as I take in the room we have just entered. This isn’t a typical office. This is a command center.
The room takes up half the floor. Granted, the building gets narrower as you get to the top, but there is no denying the immensity of the space.
It is divided into four sections. To the left is what looks like the main office area with a large desk in front of floor-to-ceiling windows.
An equally massive chair sits behind it.
The sky is dark tonight, so I can see a stunning view of the city with the buildings lit up like Christmas.
To the right side of the room is a seating area with furniture of black and gray and closer to the entrance is a conference table.
Directly in front of me is a bar, fully stocked and large enough to host a party.
The room is accented with glass tables, a mahogany honeycomb ceiling and golden eyes that are staring at me, waiting to say . . . something.
“How do you know Malory?”
I have to bring myself back to the scene I just witnessed between him and the gorgeous woman with dark eyes and a wicked smile.
“She came by the school a few weeks ago looking for you. She was rude to me, and I was mad at you anyway, and I had no intention of delivering her message to you.” I take a second to swallow even though my mouth feels dry.
“You said she was with you in Italy. Is there something still going on between you two? Because I can’t—”
“There is nothing going on between me and that woman,” he says, taking me in his arms. “Long ago but not now. Not since I met you.”
I want to know how long ago, but would it really matter if it was two months or two years? He told me he’s been in love with two women in his life. I appreciate his honesty but I hate the idea of knowing there are two women in this world he loved, or perhaps still loves. “Is she one of the two?”
His eyes search mine trying to understand my question. “One of the two?”
I raise my brows waiting for him to answer me. His brows furrow a bit and then relax as he realizes what I’m asking. He takes in a breath and then slowly exhales. “No, Emma. She is not one of the two.”
I take a deep breath of my own. He’s been with other women before. I’ve been with other men. Well, I’m sure my number is a teeny tiny fraction compared to his.
“Does she work with you? Why was she here?” I ask, trying to make sense of the situation.
“She used to work for me but was fired. Our professional relationship ended a long time ago, but I kept her around in my private life for,” he looks around as if trying to find the most tactful word to use, “company.”
Okay, maybe I don’t always appreciate his honesty.
It makes me wonder how low his self-worth is that he would spend time with someone just for sex even though he clearly despises her.
With extreme pressure on my arms, he looks me square in the eye. “Emma, I don’t want you anywhere near that woman. If you see her again I want you to call me immediately.”
Why doesn’t he want me near Malory? I’m pretty sure I’ve already heard the worst of it. What could she possibly say that he doesn’t want me to hear?
He feels my resistance and pulls me toward him. Taking my head in his hands, he skims the hair on the right side of my head and curls it behind my ear.
“Don’t go there. I know what you’re thinking. I have nothing to hide. I meant it when I said this is it for me. No more running. I’m here. Are you here with me?”
I look into the beautiful brown flecks of his eyes, surrounded my warm honey and I melt.
“I am. I’m here. With you.”
His shoulders relax and he kisses me softly on the lips. “Good, because I have something to show you.”
I want the kiss to continue, but he takes my hand and pulls me out of his office and over to the elevator.
“Where are we going?”
“Surprise.” He leans in and kisses me again and before I know it the elevator has arrived and we get in. He hits the button for thirty-three and we make our descent.
“Are we going to your company floor?” I ask.
“My company?” He tilts his head, confused. “They’re all my companies.”
This time it’s my turn to tilt my head and look confused.
Alexander explains. “This entire building is occupied by companies we own or are partial owners in. If we have stock in it, it’s here.”
I look over at the elevator panel of forty-two buttons.
I was just coming to grips with the fact he owned the building, but not everything that occupies it.
Minus the two-story lobby and his office floor that leaves thirty-nine floors of businesses.
Alexander Asher runs thirty-nine companies.
At least. That’s assuming there is only one business per floor.
When I heard it referred to as the “Asher Empire” I thought it was all in jest. I didn’t realize there really was an empire to run.
The doors open when we arrive at the thirty-third floor.
In front of us is a glass-panelled wall with the name Black Dog etched in the glass.
There are still people occupying the space, working as if it were three in the afternoon, not eight-thirty at night.
When the people see him, they immediately stop what they’re doing, straighten up and give him a professional greeting.
I laugh inwardly at the thought they find him so intimidating. Lord knows I did the first time I met him, but when he lets you in he can be pretty adorable, like that time he wore flip-flops for the first and last time.