Page 3 of Beautiful Betrayal
“Hi,” I say, finding her charming and sweet as few women strike me these days, and yet, intelligent. I see that in her eyes. “I’m glad you came.”
She doesn’t attempt to sit down. “I almost didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a lot on the line. I can’t blow this job. I’ve been thinking about this and I need to know why you were at the Bennett building.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because I’m new there and I don’t want to break any rules. So, before I sit down, I need to know if I really should.”
I am a man who doesn’t just like to trust people. I expect people to be honest. Because like my father, I’m honest, even when it makes my life harder. I like where she’s going so far, but that doesn’t mean my name won’t show a side of her I won’t like.
I stand up and my hands go to her waist. I turn her, placing her back to the bar, my body pinning her to it. “I appreciate your desire to follow the rules. Bennett allows inter-office relationships because I don’t believe it’s realistic to believe people can work together seventy hours a week, in a company this big, and never cross that line. I simply expect that they handle it professionally and let HR know.”
She blinks. “I’m confused.Youbelieve and expect?”
“What is your name?” I ask.
“Mia,” she says, and like the good attorney she should be, she immediately circles back to her question. “I’m confused. You said—”
“I’m Grayson.”
Her eyes go wide. “Grayson? As in—”
“Grayson Bennett,” I supply.
“Oh my God.” She pales. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would that have mattered?”
“Would it have mattered?” she asks incredulously. “Of course it would have mattered. I’m not trying to climb the ladder by climbing you.”
I laugh. “Is that right?”
“Yes. It is. Please let me off the bar. I need to leave. Please, Grayson. I mean, Mr. Bennett.”
I rotate us so that we’re side by side, and she’s no longer trapped, but my hands stay at her waist, hers on my chest when I want them all over my body. “Grayson,” I say. “I hate Mr. Bennett. And I don’t want you to leave, Mia. You interest me. I hope you’re interested and not because of who I am.”
“I am. I was, but how do I take that out of the equation?”
“I’m just a man.”
“A billionaire.”
“I’m just a man who wants to know you. Genuinely wants to know you and I can promise you that nothing between us will ever affect your job but neither does you walking away right now.” I release her, but our legs are still touching and her hands don’t leave my chest.
“I’m very confused right now.” She leans back and her hands slide from my chest, but she doesn’t step away. “I was interested in knowing you or I wouldn’t have come here, but you being you, I need to think about this.”
“I can live with that answer. Put my number in your phone. Then you can call me. You can decide what happens next.”
“But you’re my boss.”
“Not directly. Let me have your phone.”
She hesitates. I hate that she hesitates, but she reaches into her purse and hands me her phone. It rings and “Dad” comes up on her caller ID. “Sorry,” she says and punches the decline button.
“You could have taken it,” he says. “Fathers are important.”