"So, you work here?"
"I do."
"Hmm. I'm surprised I haven't run into you then. I'm in here every so often."
"I guess our timing was off," I say. Damn, I wonder how many times he actually comes in here. It's a good thing I'll be rotating to another coffee shop.
"You live here now, too?" he asks.
"It would seem so."
"How about we go out for a drink some night?" He scrapes his hand over his face, which is covered in sexy scruff.
Absolutely not.
"Thanks for the invite, but I don't think so."
He takes a step back, as though I've physically pushed him. My guess is a man like Prescott doesn't get turned down much. Then I wonder if he's still in touch with Felicia Cunningham, a.k.a. Felatio Cuntingham. That girl had more dicks crammed down her throat than even I care to imagine and she made it her mission to make my life miserable. She was the one who coined the term ViviVoom.
"Then how about dinner?"
So, he's still persistent, a trait I recall from our Crestview days.
"No, but I totally appreciate the offer."
Those damn bourbon-hued irises latch onto mine, and my breath hitches, causing me to almost, almost give in. Shaking my head instead, I confirm what he heard, "Honestly, I can't, Prescott."
He opens his mouth, his very sensuous mouth, to speak, then stops, nods once, and says, "I get it. You still think I'm the asshole from Crestview. I'll probably always be that guy to you. But maybe you should go out with me and find out if I really am." He pulls out his wallet and hands me a card. "If you change your mind, I live here in the city."
I say nothing in response. I don't think I could if I tried.
Then Prescott greets Vince and orders a double shot of something or other. Vince fixes his coffee and after Prescott leaves, Vince wants to know the deal.
"The deal?"
"Yeah, how do you know The Prescott Beckham, one of the wealthiest dudes in Manhattan?"
Interesting. I knew he had money, but not that kind.
Waving my hand, I say, "Oh, that. We went to high school together."
"And you turned him down for a date? What the hell is wrong with you, Vivi?"
"I don't want to date a guy from high school, Vince, not that it's any of your business."
He stares at me like I'm loony. "But, he wants you. And he's Prescott Beckham."
"I don't give a rat's ass. Now, I have work to do." When I go back to what I was doing before the beautiful Prescott interrupted me, my brain fires in all the wrong directions. It won't process what I need it to do. I'm not sure how many times I almost throw the stupid keyboard across the counter. And then, to add icing on the cake, my asshole boss, Joe, calls and wants to go to lunch. He says he needs to discuss my progress on the upgrade, but that's a lie. There's only one thing he's interested in and it's not going to happen.
"What time?"
"I'll meet you at Nikki's around noon." Nikki's is where he always wants to meet. I don't know why I ask anymore. It's where he conducted our first interview and he told me then it's his favorite place to eat.
That gives me at least a couple of hours to complete what I'm doing and mentally prepare for his attack. Still, the time flies.
When I arrive at lunch, he's seated at his favorite table. I stiffen my spine and put on my boxing gloves. Only how can you ever be truly ready to fend off a barrage of sexual advances by your disgusting boss whom you've already told in no uncertain terms N-O?
The waitress takes our order and he's well-behaved, asking general questions until our food arrives. It's while we're eating that he goes on the offensive and tells me he's prepared to give me a salary increase if I'm willing to do him certain favors in return. I know exactly the kind of favors he's referring to. Joe has been less than discreet about their specificity in the past.
"Um, Joe, I thought we discussed this already."
"Yeah, but I've sweetened the pot, Vivienne. I was sure you'd leap at the chance."
Who is he kidding? I would leap off the Brooklyn Bridge before I'd leap into bed with him. "No, I haven't changed my mind and I never will."
His fork becomes a pointer as he aims it at me. "You know, you really ought to consider this. Didn't you tell me during your interview process that you needed this position? That your mother's death had left you in quite a financial bind?"
My jaw falls open. I hadn't expected him to play this dirty. "Y-yes, I did." I lick my lips that have suddenly turned bone dry. My brain scrambles for something to grab onto, any remote thing I can use against him.
"Then, Vivi, I'd think very carefully about your response to me. You see, I'm being quite generous by offering you a raise after such a short time of employment. And you turning down my kind offer is what I'd consider a slap in the face. And slapping your boss in the face could cost you your job. Do you truly want to risk that?"
I could sue his ass if I had the money. My hands fist and I want to punch something, preferably Joe's face. Instead, I shove one into the pocket of my coat, which I never took off, being constantly cold in the city. That's when my fingers brush over it. The card Prescott passed to me in the coffee shop. And that's when the idea comes to me.
Do I dare?
It could come back to haunt me, but at this point I can't afford to lose my job until I can find another one, and over my dead body am I being blackmailed into sleeping with my boss.
"Joe, do you know who Prescott Beckham is?"
He shrugs a shoulder. "Well, yeah." His expression conveys that I'm a dumbass for asking. "Who doesn't? He's one of the richest guys in New York. Well, probably the country. What does that have to do with anything?"
I lean an elbow on the table and grab a chunk of hair. Twirling it, I say, "He was in the coffee shop this morning. He comes in a lot. Did you know that?"
Joe sits up in his chair. "No shit. Like how much?"
Dropping my hair, I wave my hand. "Eh, it doesn't matter. What does is that Prescott is a very close friend of mine."
He leans back and now he thinks I'm off my rocker. "Yeah, right, Vivi."
"Don't believe me. I honestly don't care. But he is. We went to high school together. Crestview Academy in Virginia. I can call him right now, to prove my point. But whatever."
"So?"
I scoot in a little closer. "So this. What you're doing to me is considered sexual harassment in the workplace, and I'm sure if I called Prescott right now, he could get me one of his high-powered attorney buddies and sue your ass for everything it's worth. So, Joe, I'll happily accept your raise with no strings attached, of course." I wink at him, adding, "Because you know, that little addition of demanding sexual favors is illegal as shit."
And then I pull Prescott's card out and lay it on the table, watching his eyes saucer.
"Any questions?"
Chapter 2
Prescott
Vivienne Renard. Of all the people to run into this morning, I never expected her to be one of them. And damn if she wasn't a sight for sore eyes. Hungover ones, too. Talk about changing from an ugly duckling into a blazing smoke show. Jesus, I can't believe how hot she is. There's not a single thing about her that isn't fucking perfection. But it's that mouth of hers that nearly set me off. All I could think of was how it would feel wrapped tightly around my dick, sucking me until ... It's a good thing I was wearing a coat to hide the boner she gave me. But damn if she didn't turn me down for a date. Fuck that. No one ever does that. Game on. She's just made it my mission to change her mind. It's what I'm good at-getting women to do what I want. Besides, I can't get that image of her mouth on me out of my head. Even though her memories of me probably aren't the best, she did make a little bank off me back in the day. Poor girl ran all over the place doing my homework. If it hadn't been for her, I never would've graduated from Crestview. Too bad she hadn't gone to the same college as me. I probably wouldn't have dropped out. It's not like I needed a degree, though. Family money gets you everywhere, as I like to say.
My coffee cup's empty by the time I make it to Whitworth Enterprises. The high-rise looms before me. Dad keeps trying to find ways to cut me out, but it ain't gonna happen … ever.
I pass the lobby security, giving the guys a wave as they greet me by name and step on the open elevator, reserved for the top floor only. When it reaches the destination, the doors softly whoosh open, and I exit to see Cheryl's smiling face.
"Good morning, Mr. Beckham."
"Morning, Cheryl." I give her my famous, megawatt grin. She's cute and I'd normally fuck someone like her, but I never mix business with pussy. That's one rule I've never broken and I don't ever plan to. I can do some pretty shitty things at times, but that's a line I'll never cross. Suddenly, Vivi's mouth pops into my head again and I have to think of something else. I don't want another boner as I just got my dick to calm down as it is. Then, as I close in on the executive offices, the atmosphere thickens. My skin crawls. All thoughts of Vivi vanish as I arrive at my own expansive haven. My admin sits like a bear directly outside the door.