Boardroom Sins Page 12

  He turned his head and watched her. She was on her back; her lips were parted as she pulled needed air into her body. Her eyes were wide, and he wondered what she was thinking about. He heard her sigh, and she looked back at him. “Wow,” she whispered.

  “You’re telling me.”

  Brett felt his empty stomach demand his attention and he remembered that he’d offered her dinner, and he was starving. “Still up for that dinner?”

  “I’m starving. What do you have in mind?” she asked him.

  He had a few things on his mind. But his empty stomach protested. “I’m going to cook you something. My mom would be horrified about what a poor host I’ve become.”

  “You’d be the shame of the society pages.” Rebecca laughed and rolled over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. “So what are you making me for dinner?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  REBECCA, DRESSED ONLY in Brett’s white shirt, walked barefoot to the kitchen, where he was putting the finishing touches on what smelled like an incredible meal of spaghetti. Hours had passed since she’d shown up at his home, ready for confrontation, and after her several vigorous “workouts” with Brett, she was starving.

  He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of pale gray low-slung lounging pants that exposed the defined V of his hip bones and the trail of dark hair that disappeared behind the drawstring waist. He stood at the stove. The broad expanse of his back and shoulders rippled as he moved over the stovetop, stirring, adding ingredients, tasting. Even watching Brett cook was sexy. Everything he did was sexy.

  He turned around and, seeing her, smiled and handed her a glass of red wine that he’d poured for her. She sipped and saw that he did the same from a tall glass of soda water. They made eye contact over the rims of their glasses, and his eyes crinkled at the corners, twinkling. He was smiling at her. Since she’d come to his place that afternoon, it was as if they’d reached some sort of understanding. They’d cleared the air about their past when they’d reintroduced themselves. They still had a great deal to hash out regarding their current business dealings, but they could deal with that later. She needed just a few hours of relaxation, when that wasn’t at the forefront of her mind. She wanted to enjoy the easy camaraderie she’d found with Brett. At least for the night.

  The wine was good. She knew she should expect only the best. “If you’re sober, why do you keep wine in your house?”

  “For guests,” he explained with a shrug. “I entertain from time to time.”

  “So do you mind that I’m drinking this?”

  “No, don’t be ridiculous. Just because I don’t drink, it doesn’t mean that I expect everyone around me to abstain, as well. Addiction is my ongoing issue, no one else’s. I wouldn’t put that on my friends and family.”

  “You really haven’t had anything to drink in twelve years?” she asked him carefully.

  He shook his head and turned back to the stove. “Not one drink. No weed, no cocaine, no pills. I’m living clean these days. Except for caffeine. I will always need that fix.” He chuckled.

  “No other vices?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Just one,” he told her, looking over his shoulder, his voice as dark as his eyes. “There’s sex.”

  She tried to ignore the heat in his eyes in favor of her growling stomach; at this rate, she’d never get food. And a girl had to eat. “Is dinner ready yet?”

  “Let’s eat.”

  * * *

  Brett brought their plates to where Rebecca sat at the table. It surprised him how well she fit into his home, his life. He’d never had a woman there before. It had been years since he’d even considered having a relationship with a woman, and he never brought his one-night stands to his home. It was his territory. She was wearing his shirt, and it looked goddamn good on her.

  She twirled some of the pasta onto her fork and brought it to her mouth. She tasted it and chewed, then moaned with pleasure. When she swallowed, she sipped her wine. “That’s so good. Where did you learn to cook?”

  “After we opened Thalia—that was The Brotherhood’s first restaurant—we all had some informal private lessons with the head chef whom Alana had hired.”

  “Like I said the other night, I’ve heard great things about Thalia,” she told him.

  “Yeah, we should definitely go back there some night, and actually eat there.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, we almost ate there last time,” she said with a smirk before sipping her wine.

  Brett coughed in surprise at her double entendre and drank water to clear his throat. He laughed. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

  “How many restaurants do you guys own?”

  “We have four,” he explained. “Alana runs those and Di Terrestres, and she designed them. Some of the most profitable business in The Brotherhood are her babies. It’s a group effort. We all have a part in it. The restaurants and the club. And then there’s Collins/Fischer and all the real estate, the office buildings, the condos. And we oversee several charities, as well.”

  Rebecca was impressed. “You guys have built quite the little empire, it seems.”

  “Well, we get by.”

  “Clearly.”

  “That’s good,” she said and, after taking another forkful of spaghetti, moaned again in satisfaction.

  “You like it?”

  She swallowed. “It’s so good. I can’t believe that you’re so domestic.”

  “I’ve changed a lot in the last five years.” He watched her. “You have, too.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Before you came in here yelling at me a couple of hours ago, how was your lunch with Alana?” he asked after several beats of silence had passed.

  “It was great,” she said. “We had too many mimosas and a fantastic conversation.”

  “Girl talk, eh?” he asked. “Did you talk about me?”

  “Your name might have come up.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “It was somewhat complimentary, I assure you,” she replied with a grin. “What did you do today?”

  “I had brunch with my dad. I go over there every other week. We catch up over scrambled eggs and pastry.”

  “That’s nice. How are your parents?”

  “They’re great. Still very active. Dad still spends most of his time at the office, and Mom stays busy with her charities.”

  They ate in silence again. “Brett, I think we need to address the elephant in the room,” she said abruptly, putting down her fork and looking at him. She straightened her shoulders.

  “Okay, what would you like to say?” Her sudden seriousness when they’d fallen into light and casual conversation took him by surprise. But he faced her head-on, trying to emanate that he was also in “business mode.”

  “I’m asking you again. I know we agreed to let it play out, but I want you to abandon your takeover bid.”

  He’d almost let his guard down. As she sat at his table, enjoying food he’d made for her, he’d forgotten about everything that stood between them. Had she actually been enjoying herself a few moments ago, or was she working up to this all along? “Do you now?” he said gruffly. “I don’t see that happening. When I want something, I go for it. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s business.”

  “I’m not upset, because I’m going to win.” They ate a few bites in silence before Brett heard his cell phone ring. “I should get that,” he told her.

  “Go right ahead,” she told him without looking up from her plate.

  He stood and tried to locate the sound and realized that he had left it in the kitchen.

  Still within view of Rebecca, Brett found his phone and checked the caller ID before answering. It was Alex. “Yeah?”

  “Hey, man, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  He ca
st a look at Rebecca. She was eating and sipping her wine, not paying him any attention. “No, I can talk,” he said.

  “Is Rebecca there?”

  “Maybe.”

  “So I am interrupting.”

  “You’re about an hour past interrupting anything really important,” he said. “So why are you calling?”

  “Maybe I just want to hear the sound of your voice,” Alex wisecracked. “No, really, though, it’s RMD. Their stake in Daniels has jumped to thirty percent. It’s not a coincidence. There’s no doubt they’re making a play for Daniels stock. I was just talking to our private investigator, and he’s got a little bit of info on RMD.”

  Brett stiffened. “And?”

  “Not much so far. We don’t know much about them, but they were established around nine years ago. And they held only ten percent for that long until we put out our tender offer. Now they’ve been going hard getting their own shares. I could even track their purchases as those from people we’ve already approached. They’re buying the shares we need for our own takeover.”

  “So who is RMD?” he blurted out. “Do we know anything yet?” He caught Rebecca’s eyes as they snapped to attention, meeting his own. He slipped quietly into his bedroom, giving himself more privacy. The sheets and pillows were still rumpled, and his room smelled like Rebecca. The floral essence of her skin permeated everything and overpowered the smell of pure animal sex.

  “There’s no indication,” Alex said. “I can’t find any info on these guys anywhere. Besides the fact that for years they’d held only ten percent, and in recent weeks their shares have tripled.”

  “Fuck. It’s just a hurdle we didn’t anticipate. We just need to figure out who these guys are and stop them from acquiring any more shares.”

  “Want to get together tomorrow for lunch and come up with a plan?”

  “Sounds good, man. Text me when and where. Thanks for calling.” Brett disconnected and walked out of his bedroom to find himself face-to-face with Rebecca. “Hey,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Everything all right?”

  Her eyes were wide. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just on my way to the bathroom.”

  He watched her. Suspicion narrowed his eyebrows, but instead he smiled. “It’s just down there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Thanks,” she said, quickly moving past him. He tried not to focus on her ass as she disappeared behind the door. His eyes narrowed again. Rebecca had followed him to the bedroom. To spy on him, to listen in on his end of the phone call.

  Is that why she’s here? His eyes narrowed at the closed bathroom door. Had she come here today to form a truce of sorts, or was this all part of her plan to fight back and keep her company? Shit. If that’s all it took for him to slip up, he really did need this woman gone.

  And if she thought she could come over here and have sex with him to get her way, she had another think coming. He opened the messaging app on his phone and dashed off a few words to the concierge at Di Terrestres. What he had planned for Rebecca would make her wish she’d never played this kind of game with him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  REBECCA SAT BEHIND her desk, and with a red marker, she crossed off another name. One by one, she was scooping up shares in Daniels International. It was her only way to secure power and keep it away from Brett or anyone else who might try to wrestle it from her hands. She smiled, satisfied. She’d already acquired nearly a third of the shares, including those shares her father had given her when she was younger, and what she inherited. Hopefully, it would be enough to hold Brett at bay, and make her a majority shareholder.

  The man whose name she’d just crossed off had accepted the offer she’d sent to buy his shares of the company. That put her in direct competition with Brett and Alex. Just a few more and she’d be done. The huge weight on her shoulders was lightening, the noose loosening, and she smiled again. Nothing could spoil her mood. She had been working her ass off, and soon it would pay off. She would soon own enough shares in Daniels International that she wouldn’t have to worry about losing it ever again. Her dreams were just a breath away from being a reality. But it wasn’t a guarantee yet.

  The shareholders’ annual meeting was scheduled for the upcoming Friday. In only five days, she would drop the bomb on Brett and the rest of the board that she was majority owner. Or she would be, once she secured those shares belonging to the few stragglers who hadn’t committed either way. She just had to make it to Friday and get to them before Brett did. She frowned, remembering the look on his face when he’d caught her trying to listen in on his phone call. And how his attitude had changed once she’d exited the bathroom. The easy rapport they’d established had been broken, and she’d left not long after. He knew about RMD, and he had to know that she was up to something. It was only a matter of time before he put the pieces together.

  Her office door was open and she looked past it, seeing a deliveryman exit the elevator and come onto the floor. He was carrying a huge bouquet of tropical flowers. She went back to her work, indifferent to his presence, and she was surprised when he stopped outside the door to stand in front of her assistant’s desk.

  Amy stood and came to her door. “Ms. Daniels,” she started, a bright smile on her face. “There’s a delivery for you. I already signed for it.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she said, welcoming the deliveryman into her office. He crossed the floor and plonked the huge bouquet down on her desk.

  The flowers were beautiful, but they took up a huge portion of the surface of her desk. What was she supposed to do with them while she worked? She picked through the buds and eventually found the card. And she smiled when she saw the inscription. Rebecca, thanks for last night. Meet me tonight at Di Terrestres. Eight o’clock.

  It wasn’t signed. But there was absolutely no doubt whom it was from. And she knew that he wasn’t asking her to join him. It was an order. She cocked her head to the side and looked at the flowers. Maybe Brett wasn’t so mad after all.

  * * *

  “Okay, dude, walk me through this,” Alex told Brett. They were having lunch at Thalia when Brett had let him in on his plans for later that evening. “You’re doing what?”

  “I’m going to take Rebecca down to one of the exhibition rooms,” Brett said. “I’m going to turn this around on her. Make her weak, make her beg, and then I’ll show her that I’m in charge, and there’s no way she can take me down.”

  “But why?” Alex asked. “I don’t know how this helps us professionally—it’s starting to sound like wounded pride is running things here. She’s beating us, and you’re desperate.”

  Brett bristled at his friend’s accusation, no matter how true the words might be. He wasn’t sure why he’d framed it as a business move—perhaps what he really needed was a friend right now, and Alex was that. He might have been desperate. But the desperation wasn’t just to win, it was for Rebecca. The pure crush of desire and wanting leveled him, so he felt it was difficult to think of anything but being with her again. He cursed his weakness and lack of focus.

  “That isn’t what’s happening.” Brett said it forcefully, but Alex knew him better than he knew himself. He did have a score to settle with Rebecca. She’d managed to pull his focus. And it made him madder than hell, especially when she seemed so capable of keeping her head in the game. “Besides, she’s definitely up to something. We were together the other night. We’d made amends and decided to just forget the business for a little while, but you have no idea how easily she came back around to the subject of the takeover. And then she was listening in on our phone call. If she’s using sex against me, I need to, too. She’s bounced back from our bid stronger than we thought, but sex has always been the way we get to each other. I know I can make her vulnerable this way.” Brett folded his arms stubbornly across his chest.

  “I don’t know.” Alex sighed. “Isn’t it ris
ky, taking her down there? It’s not like the rest of the club. Not just anyone can go down there. What if she leaks what happens there? Sure, she’s seen the main room, but downstairs is another world.”

  Brett didn’t respond. The exhibition rooms were the secret of Di Terrestres, not open to the general population—just their VIP clientele, who were looking for some more immersive, erotic pursuits. The takeover might have been on his mind, but it was grossly overshadowed by Rebecca and getting her downstairs. He wanted it. And he knew that she would want it, too.

  Alex frowned. “Brett, honestly, I still don’t know why we’re doing this.”

  “We’ve had run-ins with her for months now. I’m finishing it.”

  “And this has nothing to do with whatever you have going on with the CEO. This is too personal, and I don’t like it. Listen, man, I respect you and your decisions, but I’m afraid you’re not thinking with a clear head. Do you think it’s the right thing? What if we just cut our losses, give up on this?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Brett looked, incredulous, at his friend. “Since when do we give up when something is a challenge?” He paused, reflecting on a question that he’d asked himself several times in the past couple of days. Why don’t we give up on this? He blew out a heavy breath. “And besides, we can’t stall the takeover now. How would that look to our own shareholders? It’s too risky to appear weak.” He shook his head. “I started this, and I own that. But we have to see it through. Our only option is to keep going and hope we can get Rebecca and RMD to back off.”

  Alex exhaled a deep breath, and he pushed his blond hair back. “Yeah.”

  Brett knew his friend wasn’t convinced. “We’ve never been this divided on a move before, but trust me. This is going to work.”

  He hoped he was right.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  REBECCA DIDN’T HAVE to check in with the doorman when she walked up the sidewalk. He moved aside to usher her in. “Good evening, Ms. Daniels.”