ONE OF MY drivers idled outside Stonewood Enterprises, ready to take Vick home. I watched her evaluate the creases in her dress. Then she grabbed her purse to pull out a compact and smooth back her hair.
She sighed. “Whatever. This will have to do.” She snapped the compact shut and gathered the rest of her belongings.
“The SUV out front is for you.”
She didn’t look at me, just kept putting papers in her bag. “I don’t need a ride.”
“But you’ll take one.”
She slammed her bag shut. “Do we have to keep doing this?”
“Not if you just take the damn ride offered to you.”
“Would you offer anyone else a ride home?”
“Yes. I’d offer everyone a ride home if they were here this late.”
Her whiskey eyes rolled all the way back. Then landed on me. “I’m too tired to argue with you.”
“Then do as I say. We’ll get to that point eventually anyway. This way is faster.”
She swiped her stuff off her desk. “Fine.” She turned on her heel as she hiked her bag onto her shoulder along with her purse. “See you at the meeting tomorrow, boss.”
“Yeah, do me a favor and don’t dress like a damn present that’s begging to be unwrapped.”
Her hair flared out, she spun around so fast. “This outfit is completely professional.”
I shrugged. I knew she was right. However, it didn’t appear professional when the skirt swayed as she buzzed around the office and my dick stood to salute it. She’d bent over to talk with Bob, and I’d almost called her to my office so I could press the privacy button and have my way with that ass.
Here I was, running the damn show, and I couldn’t think past my dick. I’d fired countless men for that very reason. I’d thought about firing a few more because they’d been doing the same damn thing I’d been: staring at her ass all day.
“That bow under your tits makes men think you want them to rip that dress open. I promise.”
“You’re deranged. You aren’t thinking straight. Probably because you work too much. Go home.”
“You go home and take the ride.”
Her nails dug into the shoulder strap of her bag. “Good night, Jett.”
“Good night, Victory.”
She walked out of the office toward the elevators, and I watched her the whole way. She didn’t turn back to look at me.
Not once.
THE NEXT MORNING, Bob and I combed through the Armanelli files one last time to check every possible angle.
We were fully prepared for the meeting. Bob assured me that he and the legal team had it handled. I knew the Armanellis better than him though. We had nothing handled. As he sat there reworking one last scenario with me, I looked out of my office to see Vick laughing at something Stevie said.
The two grew closer every day. I saw the way she relaxed in his presence, her shoulders loosening and her posture slouching. Her chin in her hand, she rested her elbow on the table, honey eyes gazing longingly at his lips as he spewed something dumb.
I couldn’t hear it, but I knew. Stevie wasn’t bright. He’d brought no equity to the business so far. The best thing that ever happened to him was his father leaving him the company and my team immediately seeing an opportunity. Stevie would have run his business into the ground. Now, his employees would have a chance to flourish. They wouldn’t suffer the boredom of a mediocre, dead-end job.
What Vick thought was so damn funny as she laughed at him, I couldn’t understand.
I pulled up my messages as Bob explained he would video conference with Antonio to talk about the club the Armanellis and I owned together. I could recite our agreements about that club in my sleep, but I nodded and let him carry on.
Me: You wore bright pink for our meeting today. With a bow, Pix. We just discussed this last night.
Victory: Pink calms people. Also, discussing my work attire is probably not approved in the HR handbook. Actually, I seem to recall it stating that I should reach out to HR if I had questions regarding my attire. I don’t, but I will if I do.
Me: I know you don’t have questions. I do. Like why you think pink calms people.
Victory: Look it up!
Me: That dress is inappropriate.
Victory: How?
Me: Well, you can see every curve of your ass in it for one. Stevie’s looked at it about 5 times today.
Victory: These are our company messages, Jett!
Me: I own the company, Pix.
Victory: Goodbye.
Me: See you at one.
Thankfully, she’d stopped smiling at Stevie. I’d burst her bubble in the next few hours, which shouldn’t have been a goal of mine. Victory Blakely was interesting, but she was downright mesmerizing without her facade of happiness.
Bob stopped mid-sentence. “Are you okay, Jett?”
“Yes, why?”
Bob’s bushy eyebrows formed a frown as he considered his next words. “You’re smiling, son.”
Bob had been with me for years and his balding head probably reflected the amount of stress I’d put him through. No one called me son except my father, mother, and him. “So what if I’m smiling?”
“You never appear happy when we discuss the Armanellis. Not like that, anyway.”
I cleared my throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Bob glanced behind him to where I’d been looking. His bright-blue eyes that always seemed so damn friendly sparkled with recognition. “Ah. I see.”
“You don’t see anything, old man.”
He looked down at his laptop with one side of his mouth quirked up. “She’s whip smart and a beacon of light. I’m enjoying working with her.”
“She’s naive, Bob. We both know it. Not everything is sugar plums and lollipops like she thinks.”
“Sure, but isn’t it nice to have someone around every now and then who thinks it is?”
I looked out at the open office. Vick was flouncing around now. Like always, she shook off her anger faster than I could blink. Josie eyes sparkled at something she said, and Brey laughed when Vick gestured wildly in the air. The long petal-pink sleeves of her dress flared at the edges and Brey picked at one of them as if admiring the fabric. Vick nodded quickly, eyes wide.
No doubt those two were discussing clothing and not business. “It’d be nice, Bob, if everyone worked so we’re prepared for the Armanelli meeting.”
Bob closed his laptop as slow as a sloth would. “We’ll be fine, Jett.”
I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “Get back to work, old man.”
“Like you say, I’m old. I’ve got to take my time.” He rustled around in his seat for a minute longer.
“You just ran a damn marathon, Bob. Get the hell out of my office.”
He sprang up from his chair, laughing. He might have been pushing seventy but no one would guess it by his upright stance, athletic build, and spry gait. “Get some sleep, son. You’re cranky.”
I straightened a few papers on my desk as he left, not wanting to reply. I wasn’t sleeping well. The only nights I’d gotten sleep had been the ones after a certain woman blew my mind and those were few and far between. I needed to get back to random women and regimented routines. It was the only way I was going to survive taking over this company.
Thirty minutes before the meeting, I made my way to our conference room with the team I’d assigned. Brey followed closely behind me, making an effort to stay professional and not look at her husband. Vick, on the other hand, bounced around near Bob and took a seat near him. Eyeing the projector and technology in the room, I mumbled, “They’ll just want to talk.”
Brey nodded. “I agree. I made the PowerPoints in case, but I don’t believe you’ll need them.”
“Not sure it was worth the time. Your PowerPoints are burned into our brains. We’ll know the stats if needed.”
Brey pursed her lips to hold in a grin. She knew that was as good a compliment as she was going to get from me.
“Brey, your PowerPoints were on point,” Vick chimed in.
Bob nodded, eyes damn near twinkling. “I agree. They really helped me understand the data.”
“Good job, Peaches,” Jax said as he sat down next to me and leaned around me to look into his wife’s eyes. Hers widened and she shook her head once. The woman seemed to think she could control a Stonewood.
“Babe, everyone knows we’re married. I can call you Peaches here.”
Bob and Vick snickered while two other people on my legal team ruffled through their notes, trying to make like they hadn’t heard.
“Let’s focus on preparing for the meeting, Jax,” Brey clipped out.
“Sure.” He nodded. Then looked at everyone else in the room. “Anyone have any questions for Mrs. Stonewood? She made the PowerPoints earlier this week at home. In my bed.”
Brey’s cheeks turned red with anger and embarrassment. Across the room, Vick practically sighed with giddiness before she raised her hand. “I have a question.”
Bob mumbled, “This ought to be good.”
“I’m just wondering if Mrs. Stonewood created the PowerPoints before or after—”
“Victory,” I blurted her name loud and my whole team turned to look at me. I took a breath. No one knew how important this contract was except me. They sat here joking while I reworked the damn numbers in my head and noted the different outcomes. This partnership solidified who was a king or queen in Chicago and who was a pawn. I glared at the woman who thought work was a game. “I don’t think we need to finish that sentence.”
Caden and Sebastian Armanelli strode in with Gloria. “Oh, I would love for Victory to finish her sentence,” Sebastian said, scanning the room, sizing us up, calculating the dynamics. “Victory, seems you’ve made Jett Stonewood a little perturbed. I heard your name through the door. Tell me, was the sentence that bad?”
He looked her up and down, his eyes scanning that bubblegum-pink dress like a damn kid on Christmas morning. He wanted to unwrap the present.
She smiled at his perusal and glanced at me. “I’m never bad.”
I mouthed, I fucking told you.
