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Why had he set up dinner with the woman who tantalized him unceasingly when he couldn’t give in to the temptation? Being honest with himself, Rowan had intrigued him since he’d first seen her sitting primly in his office. There was a fire inside her, a fire that probably translated both to business dealings and in the bedroom.
Against his better judgment, he very much wanted to get to know her better. That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried that she would be his undoing. He weighed risks here at Barrett on a daily basis and always listened to his gut. So why had he just thrown caution to the wind?
Chapter Eight
After spending the afternoon going back and forth about whether or not to cancel dinner, Rowan gave up and changed into the basics for night events she kept in her office, trading her white cotton office shirt for a silk blouse in pale lavender that went well with her gray pencil skirt. Her suit jacket, currently hanging on the back of her chair, was a longer, one-button affair that complemented the color. She changed out her sensible flats for two inch black patent leather pumps, then sat back down at her desk, staring at a computer screen that made zero sense to her. The day had crawled with apathetic sluggishness. Her boss had asked her out to dinner. Her acceptance must have been a shock response. Why else would she throw herself into the lion’s den of rumors and innuendo, not to mention she was about to spend the evening with a man who lit a fire inside her. She could not give in to that. Besides, the man had shown zero interest in her. In fact, they had done nothing but butt heads every time they were anywhere near each other.
That made this safe, right? It was just dinner with her boss, one of the most powerful men in the industry she’d set all her career hopes on. Still, one huge question loomed. Why had he asked her out? It wasn’t a date. She needed to remember that. She would have said no if it had sounded like a date, right? Maybe. Okay, maybe not. Something about the man, even when they were at opposite ends of a conference table, made her take notice.
Today, when he sat next to her, power had oozed from him like the heady scent of his cologne, which was no doubt expensive. Spices, coffee, dark wood, all intermingled to exude authority. Rowan was drawn to the smell of him. He had such an alluring scent, she’d barely stopped herself from leaning closer to get a better sniff.
Rowan smiled. That probably wouldn’t have gone over well.
“Got a minute?” Michael said from her office door.
With a mental shake, she looked up. “Sure. What’s up?”
He came in and sat down, his normally perfect suit showing signs of wrinkles. That, more than anything, alarmed her. The look on his face matched his suit. Wrinkly with a dash of worried thrown in.
“Spill it, Michael.”
“I’ve been noticing a trend on the Drekler portfolio. A downward trend.”
“That can’t be. This is the safest fund we have, and it’s the one that gets us in the door with almost every company we pitch to. It hasn’t been gaining much, but it’s never dipped into the negative”
“Until now.”
Rowan swiveled toward her computer and brought up the prospectus for the fund. Sure enough, the graph was not headed in the right direction. She did not need this right now. More importantly, how had this slipped by her? “How did I not see this?”
“You’ve been pretty busy with whatever hoops the board and CEO’s have you jumping through.” Michael waited, and Rowan knew her second-in-command was dying to know what she was working on.
“I can’t explain. I’m sorry. I wish I could, but not yet.”
“I get it. Lots going on lately.”
She held her silence, and after a moment, he gave in graciously.
“I only found out about the Drekler portfolio today, so there’s no reason you should have known before this.”
Except he should have known. And she had set up parameters to be automatically notified if a fund started reacting to the market negatively. No one else knew she’d done that. Not even Michael. And she was the only one who got those notices.
“All right. Thanks for letting me know. I need to think about this overnight. Can we talk in the morning?”
“Sure.” He got up. Before turning to leave, he pierced her with a look. “You look nice. Got a hot date?”
“Wh-what? No. No date. It’s just a dinner meeting. Work stuff.”
“Too bad. You should date more. You look great, and I hope the guy appreciates that.”
Offering a stiff smile that disappeared fast once Michael left, she got up and went to the wall mirror in her office. She had half a closet full of white business shirts at home, so this was a change, but not enough to notice, or so she’d thought. It wasn’t some sexy little black number. And the only reason she’d switched shoes was in hopes of being a little closer to Gerard’s height. All the better to look him in the eye.
She’d pulled her hair up into a messy updo that framed her face. Sure, she’d applied a bit more makeup. That was a given for any nighttime affair, be it a date or a meeting. Everything should be more dramatic at night, right? Her lipstick was just her usual, a muted red with just a hint of shine.
Was it too much? Should she change? Rowan glanced at the clock. She had an hour before dinner. Thankfully, she’d brought her car today so she’d been able to decline his offer of a ride.
Sinking into her chair, she kicked off the shoes and wondered if she should put her suit shirt back on. This was a business meeting; that was all. What had made her change anything? Though asking the question was redundant since she already knew the answer. She’d wanted to impress Gerard, to show him she had a sharp mind but could also be feminine. To catch him, and keep him off guard. A smile touched her face. How would that feel, having him react to her subtle change of clothing, putting him on his back foot. Rowan warmed at the thought. Maybe, for that reason alone, she should stay as is.
Her computer blinked an update. The Drekler fund had gone down another notch. Damn. This time, her alert popped up. Why hadn’t it this morning? She checked her parameters, surprised to see they’d been changed. How could that happen?
