Everything You Need: Everything For You Trilogy Book 1 (7 page)

One glance at Zuckerman from his boss and Jack Keogh’s team bundle Anderson’s out of the door as they protest their treatment. The blonde stops and lays her hand on Jack’s sleeve briefly. No stabbing puncture marks this time. The gesture makes me uneasy. I see her mime giving him a call later which receives a curt nod of acknowledgement before she throws me a final dismissive glance and departs, encouraging her boss onwards.

I begin to understand the level of Jack’s power.

When he turns the lock, I’m not sure if I feel elated or threatened. Being locked in with Jack Keogh may have been the stuff of my youthful fantasies, but in the cold light of reality, I’m anxious. It’s like being shielded from gunshot behind a powder keg.

“You, Miss Caid, may sit.” The only offer on the table so far is the chair I’ve already vacated as he moves back to turn it around and hold it out for me. Offer? It’s most definitely a command.

This is what I wanted, isn’t it? A chance to be alone with the head of Zee-Com, to talk to him, to get him to listen to me. It’s now or never. He pulls his chair so much closer I can smell the heat of him. I’d die if he knew I was exploring his scent but I’d be able to recognise him blindfold in a room of a hundred other men, even after all this time.

“I wish to offer my sincerest condolences for the loss of your uncle. Harry Caid was a decent, wonderful man.”

A diplomatic beginning but sincerely made. Jack had sent flowers, donated generously to our nominated charity and attended the funeral, stepping in quietly at the back although he’d left without a word as soon as the service ended, I remember, so as not to intrude on family grief. My grief.

“Thank you. He was. He believed in me just as he did you. I don’t want to fail his trust.”

“You won’t,” he says. “And yes, Harry gave me a chance and just as my business undoubtedly thrived, so did his. He benefitted as much by our alliance as I did. How many clients do you think CaidCo gained on the back of his association with Zee-Com as it grew?”

Okay, Jack knows his worth but I know mine too. “I understand that. You both advantaged each other, but it happened because he was willing to take a chance on you in the first place.”

Jack slams the ball back. “A calculated one. I brought a lot of technical expertise and new ideas into developing my business. Frankly, he had nothing to lose. If Zee-Com hadn’t prospered rapidly and paid its way, he would have cut me adrift without a backward glance. That’s good business. But my contract with your uncle died, when he did. Read the fine print.”

Not a sentimental bone in Jack Keogh’s body. I know that much already. But loyalty means something to me. “All I’m asking is that you give me the same chance Harry gave you.”

“No.”

He might have been brushing aside a coffee refill. How could he be so callous? “Do you have no sense of fair play?”

“This is business. When I do business with someone, I need to know I’ll get something out of it too.” He leans closer into my space and I’m hyper-aware of even the slightest movement he makes.

I sit ramrod straight, my back more unyielding than the oak back of the chair. Is it my imagination or has his tone changed? I’m usually good at reading body language but being around Jack again has my senses in a spin.

“You’ll be guaranteed my company’s exclusive attention in promoting Zee-Com, just as my uncle gave you. We can both continue to profit by working together.”

He smiles guardedly. “I see how it would advantage you, Miss Caid. What I don’t see is what would be in it for me. What could you possibly offer Zee-Com that would persuade me not to sign with a major advertising player like Advance, but to re-sign with CaidCo, now headed by a young woman, albeit a talented one,” he concedes. He adds a sting in the tail. “A business woman with no proven track record.”

At least he has the decency not to mention one with drink and anxiety issues too. If I lose this argument I’ll never get another chance like it. I try to keep my eyes fixed on his no matter how disconcerting I find them, no matter what they do to my insides. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“
Whatever it takes
is quite some offer, Miss Caid.” The slow smile burning his lips scorches my pride. “I don’t think you really know what you’re offering, any more than you did last Friday.”

I feel my face drain. “What are you talking about?”

“Last Friday. When you offered yourself to me.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I? You were so drunk you’re in no position to refute my allegation.”

I back-pedal frantically. “I’m not here to discuss a personal situation last Friday. I’m discussing business.”

“You’ve avoided my calls all week but I’m not going to let you avoid discussing last Friday. That was a pretty serious business in itself and I’m pretty serious about dealing with it.”

I’m aghast. “You’re penalising me for my private life.” Who does he think he is?

“I’m applying consequences. To affect a change in your behaviour.”

“My behaviour is not your business.”

He smiles as he neatly closes the trap door. “But Zee-Com is and you want a piece of it.”

Do I? How desperate am I? I know if Jack pulls the Zee-Com account, other major clients will soon follow. I’m not stupid. Like he says, much of my business is built on the success of Zee-Com. People hang onto the tails of a shooting star. If the current exodus continues, soon all I might be left with is a high cost building, expensive staff I can’t pay, mounting business debts and a career that’s over before it begins. No-one will trust me ever again. I’m desperate enough.

“What would tempt you to give me a chance?”

“That’s a loaded question.” Lights dance in his eyes. I find them totally unnerving and I can’t ignore the flash of pleasure which crosses his face as he speaks. “Would CaidCo agree to a trial contract with my company at no charge?”

A life-line, for old times’ sake? I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Jack clicks his tongue at me repeatedly like I’m some naïve teenager, blind drunk at her first party. An image a bit too close to home. “That shows you haven’t yet developed any true business acumen. Aren’t your services worth paying for?” His eyebrow quirks with amusement at cornering me so deftly.

I frown, irritated he’s tricked me but I stick my chin up anyway, indignant and unimpressed. “Of course they are. But what use are my services if you won’t let me use them? I agreed as a gesture of goodwill. It’s a perfectly legitimate business offer. Haven’t you ever tried a free sample?”

When he laughs at me, I scowl and move to leave. It’s hard enough following the conversation as it is, the way he’s staring at me. “If you’re going to be disrespectful –”

Jack promptly shifts his body even closer to mine effectively trapping me, resting his forearms along his thighs. His scent intensifies, surrounding me. His parted knees enclose my own which I clamp firmly shut, as his large hands hover indecently over my lap.

“I don’t mean to laugh but this is just too –”

“– Don’t say whatever it is you’re thinking,” I warn him. “I’m serious.”

He sobers his expression with difficulty. “I know you are.”

I stare mutely at the dark whisper of hairs scattered over the strong tanned wrists disappearing under his white shirt cuffs. He wears an incredible watch these days. I remember seeing one like it in a high-end magazine. A Patek Philippe. Eye-wateringly expensive but beautiful and unique like the man wearing it. Both well out of my league. He made that abundantly clear four years ago. My eyes slowly rise to meet the penetrating blue authority of his.

The bow of his lips suggests some sort of dare. “So your free sample? I might be interested to see where that offer extends.”

I’ve always pushed myself to rise to a challenge but I’m suspicious. I know he’s toying with me. Yet if he’ll let me prove my worth… I hesitate until he looks even more amused, damn him.

“Won’t you call me Jack, Tabitha?”

“No. Please stop playing games with me, Mr Keogh.” Now all I can think about is playing games with Jack Keogh and I don’t mean Monopoly. He’s sitting far too close. It’s too warm in here and my tight blouse with its pie-crust collar is strangling me slowly. All the breath deserts my lungs again. I wish he would do anything other than remain so disturbingly near; being so perceptive.

The faint notes of his expensive cologne insinuate themselves individually in the scent receptors of my brain: cedar, citrus, something animal. Does he buy it himself, or is there a woman? I recall the attractive blonde with the darkly polished nails who touched him earlier.

Of course there’s a woman. He’s Jack Keogh, for heaven’s sake. Fascinating, alluring, Jack Keogh. A whip of jealousy lashes me. When it lands it’s still as white-hot as ever. I could have been his, if he’d wanted me. He didn’t.

I cast the mood off. Why did he have to crash back into my life? God, would I never get over this man? I know I can’t trust him any more than I can trust my own emotions around him.

I straighten in the chair. “Will you give me a chance or won’t you?” A professional opportunity. No more immature illusions that I ever meant anything to him.

“Well, Miss Caid…”

Now I wish he’d stop calling me that. It sounds such a tease. When he rears suddenly back in his chair, he makes my stomach lurch. Why doesn’t he make his mind up, one way or another and let me go.

“…It seems to me you’ve gone to great lengths to get my attention.”

Is that what I’ve been doing? Like some smitten teenager still. Is he remembering the cringingly obvious way I used to flirt with him?

“A little like your attention-seeking last Friday. We haven’t managed to discuss that yet.”

My eyes shoot back to his. “I didn’t even know you were there until Saturday morning.”

“You had a ghost of an idea it was me.” He laughs deep in his chest at some private joke and lowers his voice seductively. “It was my name you called when you begged me to touch you.”

“I did no such thing!”

“Not in words so much as actions.”

My embarrassment blisters but I don’t move a muscle. “If I did anything that could be misconstrued, I was too drunk to know what I was doing.”

“Exactly.” He closes another steel trap. “To set the record straight, what was your intention when you stripped your clothing off? When you put my hand on your naked breast?”

“I don’t remember doing that.” My heart pounds.

“Is that how you want to live your life? Never remembering what you say and do?”

“No. I’ve said I won’t do it again. Please can we stop talking about it?”

His face sets hard. “We need to talk about it. You endangered yourself.” His mouth forms a grim line. “If you think this conversation is embarrassing and awkward, Tabitha, if you ever, ever, put yourself in that state again, I will make absolutely certain there are consequences. Don’t test me on this one. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” And horrified. And not about to argue. I remain indignant for all of five seconds before visibly deflating. At least it’s out in the open. “Thank you for the food you sent, by the way.”

His features soften as if he’s satisfied with me again. “You’re welcome. I couldn’t leave you eating
puffed wheat
for two days.”

Beyond vodka, that’s about all I had in the cupboards. Is there anything that man doesn’t miss?

“Although watching you eat that banana was quite a turn on.”

I throw him a withering look as he laughs and wonder if that might have been the reason he was so easy to remove from my apartment. “Moving on.”

“Yes, moving on. So, here you are,” he continues. “But what would you need to do to gain my confidence?” His Irish lilt is more pronounced or is that all in my imagination too?

“Try me.” Did I really mean to say that?

“I intend to.” His voice drops to a whisper as a shiver runs over my skin. He’s so sure of himself. His hand reaches out casually to flip open the little button at my throat. “Breathe, Tabitha.”

Is he helping me out here? My feelings are confused, rippling back and forth between past and present, I hardly trust myself to know what he’s doing.

“Why won’t you answer my calls, Tabitha?” The conversation takes another unnerving swerve in direction as his fingers release a second button.

I try to keep my mind focused. “Mason handles your account.” I’m shocked into immobility as he releases a third, way below the level necessary to let me breathe more easily. My eyes scan the windows like they’re contemplating our escape route. By jumping off the twelfth floor.

“You’ve denied me access to you. Did you think I was going to leave it at that?” He tweaks the edges of my blouse apart exposing more than enough flesh and his eyes drop heavily to my cleavage for a moment before rising to my face again. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Talk to him? I’m combusting. An insistent pulse teases at the juncture of my thighs. I try to ignore it. “Is that why you’ve dropped CaidCo, because I wouldn’t talk to you? It’s unprofessional. I’m pretty sure opening my blouse is too.” I place my hand protectively over the fourth button.

He smiles, glancing up at my face “I’m no longer your client so we don’t have the same boundaries,” he reminds me. “We’re… friends. Which is just as well considering you did offer me access to your beautiful body last weekend.”