“I’d like to meet with you in the morning, Mr. Rose.” I stride toward the building entrance, a knot tightening in my throat when I pass Veda and she peeks up at me from beneath her eyelashes. “First thing in the morning, please.”
I close the door before he can give me an answer—and there’s no need.
The only answer in my world is yes.
Chapter Two
When Mr. Rose—or, Jack, rather, as I’ve discovered is his name in the employee database—walks into my office the following morning, he’s twice as suspicious as the prior evening. It’s there in the set of his jaw, the dilation of his pupils. He already hates me and that’s just as well, since it’ll save time. I can tell he’s trying to read me, to get some clue about why I’ve called the meeting, but he’ll get nothing. I’m expressionless as usual, although it took an extra hour of sweating on my rowing machine this morning to arrive at this level of calm.
I was shaken up last night. I’m still shaken up.
I want the girl now. Need to have her or this unsettled bullshit wrecking my stomach and mind will continue to get worse. All I can think about—yes, even while looking her father right in the eye—is the tight swell of her ass in my hands. The way she was so unimpressed with my arrogance, my company title. How she followed me and got upset on my behalf. Veda is out there somewhere right now and I require her with me. In fairness, she’s not just somewhere. She arrived safely at her all-girls school in Brooklyn Heights this morning, because it was reported to me in real time. Still, I’m not an acknowledged part of her life or her daily schedule yet, and that fact is unacceptable.
I stand up and shake Jack’s hand, both of us taking our seats once again. “Good morning, Mr. Rose.”
“Good morning,” he echoes, adjusting his collar and taking in the size of my office, the panoramic view of Lower Manhattan, the East River and beyond. “I bet you never get tired of looking at that.”
He’s wrong. I stopped appreciating it a long time ago. When I look out the window now, all I see is a means to an end. A place my father used to stand and look just as miserable, while dismantling companies and selling their parts to the highest bidder. No, the skyline holds no pleasure for me, but now…I’m wondering if Veda might enjoy it. How the gentle curves of her body would look outlined by the lights at night. “Mr. Rose, I’ve read through your last three employee evaluations.” I pick up the file of medium thickness and let it drop. “I’m of the opinion that you’re being underutilized.”
“Really.” He nods, his face a mask of caution, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. We’re both impatient, but for entirely different reasons. He wants answers. I want his daughter. “I can’t pretend I didn’t already feel that way, but I’m curious, Mr. Beckett, why the company CEO is looking through the file of someone he probably shouldn’t even be aware exists.”
After reviewing his records, I expected Jack to be a shrewd man. Especially after the way he reacted to seeing me on the roof last night with Veda. So I’m not going to play games and do us both a disservice. “I think we both know why I’ve taken an interest in you.”
His throat works with a slow swallow. “Yes. We do.” He swipes a hand down his face, but not before I see a flash of anger in his eyes. Anger that—surprisingly—doesn’t come across in his tone. “Mr. Beckett. My daughter, Veda…she fascinates people. Men. Always has. It’s a problem I’ve had a hard time dealing with since her mother died.”
If I’m not careful, the sudden bouts of jealousy are going to give me a stroke. I don’t want to hear about other people looking or thinking about Veda. End of story. “I’m very sorry about your wife.” I hold his attention a moment and realize, for once, I’m not faking my sincerity, although, my sympathy is more for Veda than anyone else. I know what it’s like to lose a mother. Even though mine is still alive, she forgot my name a long time ago. A small mercy, considering her son turned out to be more ruthless in the boardroom than her estranged husband, and that coldness always drove her away.
Despite my empathy for Jack and Veda’s loss, however, I only operate one way and it’s a far cry from nice. Especially this time, when I’m going out of my mind for the feel of Veda again. Already, the life she infused me with is dimming and I need her to replenish me.
“Your wife was sick for quite a while,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “I’m sure that was difficult.”