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Carrie
Instead of sleeping, I spend the night alternating between thinking about Reid and thinking about Reid. By the time I finally try to sleep, I’m back to Reid—there’s a surprise—wondering what it would have been like to go home with him. Wondering what the apartment of a man like Reid looks like. Wondering too much about a man, who—oh God. He has my panties! He doesn’t get to keep my panties. Not him. Not after ordering me to go home after fucking me on his desk.
I grab my phone and I’m about to hit Reid’s number when I come to my senses. What am I doing? I can’t call him about my panties. Why would I even consider such a thing? In fact, he can keep my panties. That’s as close to owning me he gets to come. Except maybe when he kissed me by the water tonight. He’d felt different like he had during that few minutes in his office when he’d held me and didn’t seem to want to let me go. It wasn’t just him though. I’d been different. We’d been different. In those moments, we’d felt connected beyond handcuffs and some unspoken mutual conquest between us. In those moments, I’d felt myself falling for Reid, which was, and is, insanity. He’s the man who stole my father’s company.
I’m not falling for Reid Maxwell. I’m not that stupid. I ran from him tonight to make sure I’m not that stupid. I punch my pillow and roll over. “Sleep,” I order, myself. “Sleep.”
I sit straight up. Oh God. I ran. He’s going to see that as a weakness. I can’t afford to have that man think I’m weak, which is exactly why I can’t be getting personal with him. He’ll judge what he sees outside the office. I reach for my phone again and set it right back down. Calling him would also seem weak. Tomorrow I will own my decision to walk away tonight. Because that’s all Reid will respect.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly the alarm is going off and I sit up, exhausted to the bone, but I’m out of the bed in seconds, hurrying to the shower. I need to do something. I need to take action and win back my company. Nothing else can matter. Reid will not distract me ever again. Exactly why I dress in a simple black dress with no buttons. I’m keeping my top on and my panties, too. In fact, I wear my favorite black lace panties that I’d never allow to be torn.
I arrive at the office early on a mission to own the CEO job. I’m barely behind my desk when it feels like a reasonable time to call Royce Walker again. I’ve wanted to call him for an hour.
“Problem?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “Well, except for the fact that I had to fire three people for stealing company secrets. I need to keep this from happening again. Can you help me with security and how much will that cost?”
“We’re already working for you, which is why you found out about those three men.”
“Right. Of course. Did you come to terms with Reid to provide security long term?”
“Yes. We did.”
“Thank you, Royce. We need you. We should have had security in place before now.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asks.
I have no idea how well he knows Reid, but well enough, I decide. “I wasn’t in charge or we would have,” I answer honestly and then push for answers, even indirectly. “To cut costs by way of leaving ourselves exposed is just another of my father’s decisions I don’t understand.”
He’s quiet for several beats and I hold my breath, hoping he tells me what he knows about my father’s decisions if he knows anything at all, but he does not. “If you have concerns, call me,” he says simply.
“I think I’ve proven I will.”
“You have,” he agrees, “but just so you know, I’m available twenty-four-seven. More soon on our now ex-employees and criminal charges.”
“Excellent.”
We say a brief goodbye and disconnect. Sallie chooses that moment to appear in my doorway, holding a sealable baggie in her hands. “I made cookies. It just seemed like a cookie kind of day.”
“As much as I love your cookies,” I say. “I think I might need a cake, too.”
Her eyes go wide and she hurries forward, sitting down in front of me and handing me the bag. “Comfort food.”
I open the bag. “Three employees were stealing company secrets and selling them to the competition. They’ve been fired and we’ll be pressing charges.”
“Who?”
I slide a piece of paper with the names listed in her direction. She reads it while I devour a scrumptious cookie. “Delicious,” I murmur, thinking she should open a bakery, and if I still had my money I gave to my father, I’d finance it.
“I’m speechless,” she says, shaking her head and scooting the paper in my direction. “They’re long-term employees. And my God, I had the hots for one of them and don’t ask who. I’m not saying after this. Do you want to say anything to the staff about the terminations?”
“Not yet,” I say. “I want to talk to Reid first.”
“Understood,” she says. “What can I do for you in the meantime?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
“I could take cookies to Reid. Maybe that will make him a little less cranky?”
