Reverie: Chapter 11

I WENT into my work week at full throttle. I wanted Steven to know I deserved that spot at his meeting with Jett.

He passed me in the hall of our office. “Hey, Vicky. You ready for tomorrow?”

I nodded and hoped I wasn’t imagining the way his face brightened when he saw me. He smiled at everyone, but I liked to think it lingered with me. The way he tucked his blue button-down shirt in more than most made him look a tad uptight, but his pale-blue eyes always sparkled with friendliness. Unlike the dark-blue ones that appeared in my dreams. His blond hair didn’t stand out against those blue eyes either, not the way Jett’s hair did.

He was attractive, he just wasn’t devastating. I didn’t need devastating though. I shouldn’t have even wanted it.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Any documents you need me to look over?”

He waved away my offer. “Oh, no. I had my other lawyers take a look, but I doubt Jett will offer me anything that will make me change my mind. This is just a formality.”

“Right. We want to maintain a cordial working relationship with him.” I repeated the line I’d written to Jett because it was true.

“Yes, exactly.” He tilted his head and put his hand on my shoulder. “I like how that sounds. Jett will understand too.”

I nodded and leaned a little closer to him. “He has to understand you wanting to keep control of what’s yours. He does that with his company, right?”

“Right. And I’m doing the same.” He puffed his chest out a little, and I thought about patting myself on the back later for making him feel so great about himself.

“Well, I should get back to it. Let me know if you want to grab a bite for lunch.”

His hand dropped from my shoulder like he’d just noticed I was on fire. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “I probably need to catch up on some stuff.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. He was thinking he couldn’t date me, that it wouldn’t look good to his employees. But he’d hired me, he invited me to meetings when I wasn’t required. He even touched me in the hallways, although it may have been subconsciously. Hadn’t he read his own HR handbook? It didn’t say anywhere that we couldn’t date.

“Okay, Steven.” I shrugged, trying to shake his discomfort. “I’ll be ready for the meeting, if I don’t see you before then.”

“Sure, sure.” He backed away from me, but I caught him looking me up and down. He wanted lunch, he wanted so much more than lunch with me. “We’ll have transportation tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

I turned before he could and sauntered down that hallway like a freaking lingerie model.

Eat your heart out, Steven.

Back at my desk, I woke up my laptop to find a message from an even more frustrating man. This one didn’t seem to care at all about work boundaries.

I TURNED on my out of office auto-reply and googled scrubbing my message history.

God, the man was infuriating. He couldn’t separate a damn personal encounter from a business one to save his life. And wasn’t that the problem with him? He was so far up his business’s ass, he couldn’t enjoy life.

The rest of the day, I stomped through every one of my tasks, including choosing an outfit for the meeting the next day. I didn’t do it for Jett. I did it for Steven and our company. I had to represent. I also wanted to look nice enough that Steven noticed.

The next morning, I slipped into the Fendi bodycon dress with long sleeves and a high neckline. The dark-beige logos against the black jacquard of the dress complimented my skin tone, and it fit like a glove, hugging my curves.

My mother, ever the crazy driven businesswoman and a micromanager, had climbed her way to the top of the fashion business. I learned a sharp sense of style growing up and had a closet full of wonderful clothes. I also knew how to pull off a risqué dress and still appear professional. I tied my hair back in a tight bun and stepped into my stilettos. This outfit would not only make people gawk, it would make them see how lethal a lawyer I was.

At work, our legal team buzzed about before the meeting. Mark, one of the senior attorneys, told us all, “We need to be fully prepared to negotiate if necessary and know our number.”

My face scrunched in confusion. ‘Steven said he doesn’t want to sell. Why should we prepare to negotiate?’

Mark smiled but looked down his nose at us. ‘Steve wouldn’t be going to this meeting if he didn’t want to sell.’

“That’s not true,” I blurted. A couple of senior attorneys looked over at me. Their faces wrinkled in either question or distaste. Most of us junior associates stayed quiet except to ask questions. I cleared my throat. “I just find it hard to believe that Steven would hand all his loyal employees over to that unscrupulous shark for any number.”

Mark chuckled. Then the chuckle grew to a full belly laugh. And while I stared at him holding his gut in, I had to school my face into a neutral expression so he wouldn’t see my disgust. Mark reminded me of the terrible cliché of a dirty old uncle who was always side-eyeing you. He’d lost most of his gray hair but was holding onto the last few strands with a death grip. And the looks he shot my way always made me feel grimy, like I needed a shower.

He nudged John, another senior attorney, in the side. Those two always looked at me like a piece of meat they wanted to devour in private but a weed in their manicured lawn in public. Most days, I understood. I was the upstart blonde they dreaded would take their place next to Steven. I didn’t outrank them, but they knew I climbed a different ladder. I could have the lowest LSAT in the state and they believed Steven would promote me over them.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe Steven was only dragging me along to these important meetings because of the attraction we had toward one another.

But I wasn’t dumb. My LSAT results had been one question shy of a perfect score.

They could laugh all they wanted. I might not have earned my place at the table yet, but I was damn capable of getting there. I pushed a few stray hairs behind my ear. “We’ll see.”

I was sure of Steven’s resolve, sure of his righteousness, and knew when he’d said he wanted the best for the company, he’d meant it.

Mark, John, Steven, and a few others piled into an SUV that took us over to Stonewood Enterprises.

The building stood taller than those around it and looked like it curved into the sky. The architectural design allowed for it to be constructed in a way where the windows looked like a wave bent up above the city. It was a physical representation of the Stonewoods’ dominion of the business world. Jett and his father had a strong handle on every big company in the city and were large contenders nationally. They dabbled in software, applications, stocks, just about everything that could make money.

The Wall Street Journal claimed that Jett stepping into his father’s shoes some years back had driven the company to greater success. He was solely responsible for some of the biggest—and riskiest—investments the company made.

“Steve, what’s our number?” Mark asked boldly, interrupting everyone’s small talk.

Steven wiggled a bit in his seat. He ran his hand through his blond hair and glanced out the window at the tower. The SUV idled in traffic, but we were only about ten feet away from being able to exit. “It isn’t about the number. There’s a lot more that goes into wanting to give up control of Samson and Sons.”

Mark nodded. When he looked my way, I raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t help it. I’d told him it wasn’t about numbers.

Mark pushed again. “Still. What’s the number?”

I rolled my eyes at Mark. Steven wasn’t like him; he didn’t crawl around on the floor to pick up dollar bills when they were thrown his way. He wouldn’t sacrifice another’s happiness for money he didn’t need.

Steven replied, “I’ll know the number if I see it.”

Mark raised his eyebrows at me this time, but I just shrugged. Steven wouldn’t see that number, he’d told me. If he had to fib a time or two to get Mark off his back, I understood.

We exited the vehicle and two men met us in the lobby. We made our way to the elevators, and I took in the lobby’s layout. Leather couches and oak desks had been strategically placed throughout. The dark browns and ceiling-to-floor windows screamed luxury which was, I am sure, the designer’s intent.

No one else really took in the furniture or the design as they walked in. They were mesmerized by the elevator shafts, which curved with the building all the way to the top, while water cascaded down around them.

Steven commented to the two men waiting with us for the elevator, “The architecture of this building has always floored me.”

One answered, “Yes, the Stonewoods were very much involved in determining the final look. Jax had a hand in developing the elevator design.”

“It’s a phenomenal design. Really quite brilliant,” Steven said.

The man nodded. “He and his family are quite brilliant.” The awe and pride in the man’s voice was apparent as we stepped onto the elevator. The doors closed as water cascaded down the glass walls.

Steven eyed him curiously. “You really enjoy working here, yes?”

“I couldn’t have asked for a better position. They push everyone hard but get the best out of them too.”

Steven nodded.

“This way.” We followed the man down the hall to an expansive built-in desk where a brunette sat, her hair pulled back in a severe chignon. “Gloria, let Jett know I’ll be bringing Samson and Sons to the conference room now.”

She jerked her head down once, as if any more motion would be inefficient. We followed the man through glass doors and down a hall that opened up to more ceiling-to-floor windows. People buzzed between the desks and pellucid cubicles. No one seemed to be tied to one area though. Like a hive, they all worked on something different, but we knew they had built this magnificent thing together.

To the very back of the space, up three dark gray marble steps was the man who made it all run. He stood at the edge of those stairs, like a king. He wore a tailored navy suit with brown leather shoes and a belt to match. His white collared shirt and blue tie finished off the perfect package.

I had seen Jett in the nude, swimming trunks, sweats, and jeans. He looked good in everything, but that suit looked like the most natural thing on him. The man was made to reign over the world, and his outfit showed it.

When he saw me, his mouth tipped up, and he raised one eyebrow.

I looked away, not at all as ready for this encounter as I’d thought I was.

Jett took his time walking down the steps to come shake each of our hands.

He eyed Steven first and put his hand out. “Happy we could meet today. Your company has my attention.”

Steven smiled and stood a little taller, not at all hiding his admiration for Jett. He shook Jett’s hand vigorously. “I am really happy to hear that. We are looking forward to talking over things.”

Jett nodded and turned to shake everyone else’s hand.

He saved our exchange for last or maybe I lingered in the back, hoping he would overlook me.

He didn’t. He looked me up and down, waiting a beat before putting out a hand. “Ms. Blakely. Always a pleasure.”

I nodded. “Yes, Mr. Stonewood. It is.”

He motioned to a hall that led to more rooms. “We’ll be meeting in the second door on the right.”

Everyone turned to follow the two men who had led us up to this floor. Jett waited behind and as I started walking, I felt his hand on the small of my back.

My eyes grew to about twice their size, I was sure, as I turned to glare at him. “Are you kidding me?” I whisper-yelled.

He winked and leaned in to whisper back, “I never kid, Ms. Blakely.”

I wanted to say more, but Steven turned to eye us curiously as he made his way into the conference room.

Jett’s hand never dropped from my back, even when Steven glanced at us. He kept it there down that long hallway, sending sparks through my body as though he had every right. I almost shoved it off as we entered the conference room but he dropped it to close the door behind him.

I sat in one of the last available chairs which happened to be next to the one at the head of the long table.

Of course, Jett filled that seat. He folded his hands on the table and an expensive watch peeked out from his cuff. Rolex, for sure. “I appreciate you all coming here to further discuss how we can help one another in the future.”

Everyone either nodded or murmured agreement.

“I’m sure those of you who have met me know I don’t like to waste time. So, we’ve drafted a new contract,” he started.

Steven shook his head, and I was proud of him, sitting there opposite Jett, ready to go head-to-head with one of the most lucrative businessmen in the world. “We don’t want to waste anyone’s time either. We’ve already been over everything, and we appreciate the offer. I really like to keep control of things though. My employees mean a lot to me. And I just can’t see giving up control of their positions like you ask. I realize that’s what you do with most contracts. I can’t ask you to change that. So, like I said, we appreciate it but today this meeting won’t be about acquisition. It will be about maintaining a cordial business relationship.”

Jett’s nostrils flared at Steven’s last words. He glanced my way, and I shrugged before looking down. I couldn’t have known Steven would use my exact words here, but I was proud that he’d taken the moment to stand his ground, to show everyone he could go toe-to-toe with Jett Stonewood and not back down.

He was the light to Jett’s dark. He had a blond halo over his head while Jett’s inky hair curled up like devil’s horns. He smiled sweetly and Jett’s smile spread like Lucifer had found his next victim.

Jett cleared his throat. “A cordial business relationship?” His hand went to my thigh under the table. The shock of it shot between my legs as he squeezed and glared at me. “I swear I’ve heard that phrase before.”

I bit my tongue, wanting to kill him, wanting this meeting to be over, wanting to gouge a hole right through the Italian leather of his outrageously extravagant Cucinelli with the heel of my stiletto. Instead, I dug my nails into my hands as I fisted them in my lap, holding my reaction in.

“Either way,” Jett looked over his shoulder, and I followed his line of sight to Gloria, the severe-looking assistant. “I think we should consider more than that. Gloria, would you hand out the new contract?”

She stood from her little corner desk, and every man in the room shifted slightly. The woman looked like an hourglass, curvy in all the right places. When she walked, she strutted, and when she passed out folders, she leaned in. I saw the way she’d handled her position at the desk up front. I knew she was handling this in just the right way too. Each move she made was calculated.

Maybe she thought she needed to woo them for Stonewood Enterprises’ sake, or maybe she just wanted a date later that day. I couldn’t be sure.

Until I saw the way Jett tracked each of her movements, the way she looked back at him and parted her lips when she saw him staring at them.

He had been—or still was—sleeping with that woman.

They didn’t do a good job of hiding it either. As I looked around the room, the men’s smirks at Gloria and Jett’s display showed how camaraderie could so easily be built.

I wanted to roll my eyes. When Gloria dropped my file in front of me instead of placing it in my hand, I glared at Jett and shoved his hand off my leg.

He winked. If I didn’t pride myself on being a professional, I would have kicked him in the shin.

Steven’s voice drew my attention away from my immature thoughts. “Mr. Stonewood—”

“Jett. We’re on a first name basis at this point, I would think.”

Steven cleared his throat and then a small laugh bubbled out of him, high and awkward. “We just might be with the number you’re offering.”

“Good. The rest of the contract stays the same.”

Steven nodded fast and blurted, “Sure. Sure.”

My eyes bulged, my stomach dropped, the oxygen whooshed out of my lungs and didn’t seem to come back in. But no one was paying attention to me.

Mark slapped Steven on the back and laughed.

John was mumbling how he couldn’t believe it. Everyone talked excitedly. One of Stonewood Enterprises’ guys began talking tactics with one of our guys.

I scrambled for the file and skimmed the pages looking for the godforsaken number. When I saw it, I gasped.

Like I said, no one was paying attention to me. Or so I thought. Then I felt his hand back on my thigh, squeezing. I snapped my gaze to his. Jett’s eyes twinkled in an arrogant way. “Welcome to Stonewood Enterprises, Victory Blakely.”