Page 48 of Dirty Rival
His eyes flash. “You mean he’s not a heartless asshole? You’re wrong. He is.”
My jaw clenches. “You’re working on that hate again, Reid.”
“I’m telling you the truth. If you hate me for it, then hate me.”
“He’s taken these actions, but you beat him. In other words, you’re the devil he is not.”
His lips thin. “I never claimed to be a saint, Carrie, but I’m not a liar. Your father was going down. I didn’t make that happen. That’s the truth. I need to go.” He starts for the door and I rotate to watch him leave, wanting to finish about ten things that we’ve started. I want to grab him and pull him back, but I refuse to stop him. He’s the one who stops.
He rotates in my direction and before I know his intent, he’s back in front of me, pulling me to him, and his hand is on the back of my head. “If you hate me, then I can do this, right?” His mouth comes down on mine in a brutal, rough kiss that tastes of hunger and anger, even as his other hand cups my backside, and he pulls me hard against his erection. “You’re coming home with me tonight, even if I have to carry you there.” And with that, he kisses me again, and before I can even process what just happened, he heads for the door, opens it and leaves.
I inhale, my entire body humming with a mix of anger, need, and confusion but I don’t linger. I’m on fire in more than one way, which for me, translates to a need for control, a need for action. I follow in Reid’s steps, and once I’m in the lobby area, I keep walking. I don’t look at Connie or Sallie. I have a purpose I don’t want interrupted. I enter my office and sit down behind my desk where I dial Royce Walker. “Problem?” he answers.
“Yes,” I say this time. “Since I can’t hire you to investigate my father, can you refer me to someone who won’t screw me over?”
He does that silent thing he does. “I’m not letting you go elsewhere when we can help. Let me—”
“Talk to Reid. Never mind. I’ll handle it.”
“We’ll help and I won’t charge you extra, but I have some confidentiality issues with Reid I need to work out. Give me twenty-four hours.”
“Okay, but if you can’t work it out by then, I need a name, please. I don’t know where to start.”
“Fair enough. I’ll be in touch.”
We disconnect and my cellphone rings, and the number sets my heart racing. It’s Elijah. “Carrie West,” I answer.
“Carrie,” he says jovially. “I’m in your area. Why don’t we have drinks and talk about money.”
“I’m not ready to present yet.”
“We’ll speak broadly about my investments and your role in the company versus that of Reid Maxwell.”
Unease slides through me. “Okay. When and where?”
He names a time and place and once I hang up, I dial Reid. He doesn’t answer, but he could be in the subway. We all take the subway when we’re in a hurry and he was in a hurry. “Call me, please. It’s urgent. Elijah wants to meet and if I don’t leave now, I won’t make the meeting. I feel like I need to go. Then I’ll know if he’s attacking and where he’s attacking from. Call me.” I hang up and head for the door.
Chapter twenty-two
Carrie
Itake the subway to my meeting with Elijah, which is at a popular bar near the courthouse. The minute I exit the tunnel, I check my messages and find nothing from Reid or anyone for that matter. I dial Reid again and end up with his voicemail again. “I really need you to call me back, Reid,” I say, ending the connection.
“Damn it, Reid,” I murmur, but I remind myself that he has clients. He’s doing two jobs and once I’m the CEO of the company, there is no Reid to call for help. I don’t need help anyway. This is me making sure we aren’t getting sideswiped in some way. I don’t want Reid to think that I’m sneaking behind his back. I dial him again and when his voicemail picks up, I say just that. “I’m meeting Elijah. I don’t want you to think that I’m sneaking behind your back or breaking a promise. I want to find out what I can so he can’t come at you, which like you said, means me. And he said something about my father. I really need to know what he meant. Call me when you can.” I hang up.
One block later, I enter the restaurant bar on the bottom floor of a building near the offices of Woodson Cable News Network, which Elijah recently took over after his father’s retirement. If I rein in Elijah, I always felt I’d get his father, too, but I’ve accepted that at least during this window where Reid sits at the helm, that won’t happen. The bar is dimly lit, clusters of tables here and there, snowflake-looking lights dangling from the ceiling. I don’t really understand the snowflakes as a year-round lighting option, but I guess it’s a way to remember this place.
I scan the room to find Elijah sitting in a booth. He spots my approach and stands, greeting me warmly, but then, on our two prior encounters, he did that as well. He extends his hand, expensive cuff links adorning his pressed white shirt that he’s paired with a black suit. I accept it and we sit down across from each other. “You look beautiful as always,” he comments. “Though please don’t take offense. I, by all means, do not mean to downplay your skills, nor my own professionalism.”
He’s not a handsome man; his features sharp, brown eyes hard, but he wears his age, which I know from my past research to be thirty-nine, with confidence and grace. “I’m not offended and thank you. I am, however, eager to understand why, after I’ve stalked you for years, you’re suddenly willing to do business with me.”
“Timing is a big factor,” he says without hesitation. “I have a project I’ve been trying to bring together and the real estate investment firm I was dealing with is dragging their feet.”
“What’s the project? Because I thought you wanted me to bring one to you.”
“I’m open to you doing so, but in this case, I’m looking to develop world-class high-rises in China and Japan, both markets where we’re rapidly expanding. We’ll run our operation from the building and sell the rest of the space as residential. I’m talking about buildings with such large price tags that we will want to partner with a handful of wealthy investors to make it happen.”
Asia. The location and the magnitude of the project do not sit well for me. It’s a cesspool of potential legal issues with red tape that can take years to cut through, while tying up financial resources.