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Frowning, I move to the other side of the room while Campbell continues lecturing Alice on work phone codes as well as various security protocols and procedures.
Ben and Chris have decided to spread out and use the far back of the boardroom for a marketing brainstorm session. They’re arguing over font choices when I sit beside them.
“Is security that much of an issue in marketing?” I ask them. “Do other companies really try to hack your system?” I just can’t understand the sense of urgency Campbell had when explaining tech precautionary measures to Alice.
“Oh, that’s not for other companies.” Ben looks down at his laptop again. “It’s really for the personal protection of employees.”
Chris joins in, glancing at Campbell and Alice across the room before lowering his voice. “Story goes that when Bell was starting out, she got set up and fired for something she didn’t do. Someone logged on as her or something. The company didn’t have individual sign-ins or anything.” He shakes his head. “Now she’s fanatical about security. Makes sure everyone has their own personal passcode to log in, so all work is traced back to the computer’s user log-in with date and time stamps and stuff. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known Bell to get pissed about if she finds that someone didn’t follow the rules.”
“Good thing too,” Ben jumps back in. “A few months ago, her assistant tried to steal company information and pass it off as his own. Actually tried to set up his own business on the back of Bell’s work.” He snickers. “Moron.”
“She shut him down quick though, didn’t she?” Chris must’ve been addressing Ben because they both laugh at some private joke, their shoulders bouncing.
“You boys done giggling over gossip? I might need you to do some actual work for a change.” Campbell speaks from across the room, her brow and smile quirked up to one side, clearly amused at catching us whispering and laughing like kids.
“Yes, ma’am,” Chris says with another laugh, causing Campbell to roll her eyes. Chris sports a smirk while hunkering down once more over the laptop.
I store away the knowledge I’ve just learned with the rest of what I’ve gathered. But it seems with each new piece of information I acquire, the puzzle of Campbell King just gets bigger, not clearer.
12
BELL
I deserve a drink.
Following the first meeting with Warren and Baron, I arranged for all upcoming discussions involving Denise to be handled by Chris. I had to make him promise to stay vigilant when it comes to his work and security, probably feeding the rumor mill I know is already running. He wasn’t thrilled to be picked for the job, but hey, I’m the boss; I can do what I want.
Except Chase Moore. I cannot do him. Well, any more than I did in the elevator.
At first, seeing Denise had seriously doused my libido with the equivalent of glacial waters. However, Chase revved my sex drive up so much that after Denise stormed out, one look at him and I thawed out significantly. Luckily, by the time I reached my sexual boiling point again, I had Warren and Baron up to speed and the new tasks distributed amongst them and my team.
So I hightailed it back to Texas for a week under the guise of needing to get back to fix another client’s last-minute problem.
Now I’m back in the city that never sleeps, and even though it’s been a while since I last had physical contact with Chase, just thinking of it has me crossing my legs with a shiver.
Maybe I should’ve stayed in Texas a little longer. At least until Sunday night. Instead I came back Friday morning at Alice’s request. I haven’t been a very good mentor, leaving her to the wolves of Warren and Baron with just Chris and Ben as buffer. Flying in this morning seemed like a wonderful idea at the time. After all, I had a week to shore up my defenses against the sexy-as-hell Chase Moore.
I was confident. And also very, very stupid.
I didn’t tell Chase I was flying in early. In fact, I’ve been very brief and stingy with my emails to him, choosing to copy him on group emails rather than email him directly. I thought I’d fly under the radar, as it were. Meet Alice for lunch, go over her goals and tasks, and have two and a half days to enjoy the city I still love before facing the man I dry humped in an elevator.
Except after lunch, Chris, Ben, and Chase sauntered in for an impromptu meeting. I honestly don’t know why Chase was even there—he barely said two words. And I should know, as I spent the entire time staring at his mouth while fighting the urge to mount him like an animal.
I totally deserve a drink. Or a few.
Definitely a few.
I can’t forget Moore’s is temporary. Chase is temporary. As much as the sounds, sights, and even smells of the city calm me, make me feel right with the world in a way that the humid heat of Houston never has, I can’t forget this isn’t home anymore. And why it isn’t.
I’m perched on my stool, legs swinging back and forth. Alice recommended this bar when I mentioned I wanted to get a drink. Angel’s Share is a speakeasy that you get to by entering a hidden Japanese restaurant in the East Village. Above the ornate bar is a creepy-cool mural. It’s like a macabre twist on those cherub frescos from the Renaissance with passed-out angels and devil-horned babies. Otherwise, the place reminds me of something straight out of the 1920s, when speakeasies were actually needed. Dim lighting, fancy drinks, and smooth jazz.
The whole idea is pretty cool, and my mind is busy running scenarios on how well a place like this might work at Moore’s. Maybe as part of Winston’s, with a separate entrance for later hours. A bar that serves fancy drinks from the era that Moore’s was founded in. The social media scene would love it.
Suck on that idea, Denise.
I take another sip, toasting my awesome idea, while my taste buds enjoy the sweet tang of an Angel’s Share Flirtibird. It’s a cocktail of yucca juice, agave nectar, and shochu, a Japanese barley-based drink that reminds me of whiskey. Usually I’m a straight-up kind of gal, but with where my mind has been these past few days with Chase, a Flirtibird sounded apt.
“Howdy, ma’am.” The voice comes from behind me. A sexy voice with a deep timbre that I know too well. I let the vibrations of that voice flow through my body before slowly spinning my bar stool around.
