Lured In (Dark Paradise, #1) (14 page)

“Strictly business,” I confirmed without hesitation.

“Ok,
Ms. Winterfield
,” he said. “Let’s start off with your salary and benefits then. He handed me a contract.

I read it and looked up at him. “This is absurd, Zach,” I snarled.

“Mr. McConnallay to you,” he stated.

“
Mr. McConnallay
, sir,” I countered. “This is absurd. What are you trying to prove by offering me all this money and vacation time?”

“I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. The offer is not negotiable. Do you want it or not?” He held out a pen to me.

I snatched the pen from his hand and signed the damn contract.

“
Good girl
,” he muttered before correcting himself with, “Good decision, Ms. Winterfield.” He continued, “Now let’s focus on the other employees.”

We sat down and began discussing salaries and promotions. Putting on my eyeglasses, I began working from the computer. During the discussion, he kept licking his lips, softly groaning, and repositioning himself in his seat. He was apparently aroused and felt rather excited, as he finally removed his black suit jacket and kept looking at me with those come-fuck-me-eyes, which I managed to ignore as I focused strictly on business. I was in the middle of justifying a salary increase when he pulled out his cell phone and texted someone.

WTF?
I had texted him over the weekend with no response.
Fuck that shit. Business is about to get very personal. He’s probably texting one of his many girlfriends
.

I decided to cross the line and mix personal with business. “Oh, I see your fingers and phone work just fine.”

“I’m sorry—come again?” he said with narrowed eyebrows.

I took off my glasses. “I said your fucking fingers and phone work just fine.”

“Ms. Winterfield, you will restrain from using such language and taking that tone with me. I will not tolerate that,” he countered with an attitude of his own.

You didn’t seem to mind me using such language on Saturday when you were fucking my brains out and commanding me to use such language
.

“And what are you going to do,
Zach
, if I continue? Bail out? Run? Ignore me further? Act as if you don’t know me? As if nothing happened between us?”

“Strictly business, remember? Now finish reading that document and sign off on it,” he snapped.

I hissed at him, and he raised his eyebrows at me. I rolled my eyes, and he responded, “That’s beneath you, wouldn’t you say?”

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows.

You are such an asshole. I really hate you, you fucking egomaniacal bastard. Restrain from using such language, my ass. I can use whatever language I damn well please. And let’s talk about you, and how you use women and then dog them. I trust you to do just that. And
…

“Are you done tongue-lashing?” he asked.

“What?”

“Are you done tongue-lashing me?”

Shit! He’s reading my mind again. Read this, asshole
…

“Abigail, get back to work. These documents need to be finalized by three today.”

I concentrated on the documents, and after some time of working in complete silence, Zach blurted, “You reported to an important meeting forty-eight minutes late. Then you were insubordinate. Why?” Before I could give him an answer, he continued. “Do you really think I’m a jerk, prick, asshole? All those things you called me? And hogwash? Do you really think of me as hogwash?”

I looked up at him and replied angrily, “I told you that I didn’t get the memo. And why would you wait to the last minute to inform people of such an important meeting anyway?”

“I gave the memo to your sister at five fifteen yesterday and asked her to pass it on to all employees. Everybody showed up on time, except you, so I find it hard to believe that you didn’t get the memo. I think you’re hot under the collar about this weekend, and that’s why you came late and attacked me the way you did.”

I shook my head and laughed.

“What’s so damn funny?” he asked.

“Lauren didn’t send me the memo because we had a fight at my dad’s yesterday during Sunday dinner. That’s why I was late to your meeting. And about this weekend, please, don’t think so highly of yourself, because I sure as hell don’t.” I got up to use the bathroom.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

“To use the bathroom. Is that OK with you? Or do I need a hall pass for that?”

When I returned from the bathroom, my dad, stepdad, Uncle Ernie, and Lauren were in my office with Zach. I heard my dad tell Zach that he was sorry for my behavior and that he, my stepdad, and Uncle Ernie believed that it was a mistake for me to have been promoted to president.

“Clearly she isn’t stable enough to hold such a position,” my dad said. That hurt. That hurt me more than anything in the world.

My stepdad added, “We honestly thought she would do great as president, but we were wrong. And for that we apologize, greatly, and if you think we misled you to thinking that she was deserving of the position. We are all embarrassed by her conduct today. We think Lauren would fare well as president.”

Zach was taken aback by my family’s admission, and the evidence was all over his face.

“So are you telling me that you all believe that it’s better that Abigail not work here?”

“I think she did a bright thing today by quitting,” my father said, and Lauren nodded her agreement.

I walked in and sat back behind my desk as though I’d heard nothing.

Lauren hissed at me, “What are you still doing here?” My stepdad and Uncle Ernie seconded her.

“Working!” I hissed back. “Is there a reason why you all are in my office?” I asked calmly. I continued before anyone could answer, “Let me guess. You all came here to apologize for my behavior today and admit how embarrassed you are of me.” I was heated and couldn’t hide my anger. “Lauren surely will fare well as president. What do you say, Richard? Oh, and sorry to disappoint you, Adam, perhaps I’m not so bright after all, but I have already reaccepted my responsibility as president.”

“That’s enough, Ms. Winterfield,” Zach said, looking at me. He sounded more confused than mad. He continued, “We have business to finish, and Lauren, since you’re here, we’ll start with you. Zach handed Lauren the contract detailing the requirements of the vice president position and asked her to read it. Lauren gawked at the document, and my dad, stepdad, and Uncle Ernie looked on curiously.

“I’ve been promoted to vice president?” Lauren uttered lowly.

“If you agree with the salary and benefits, and if you want the position, it is all yours.”

“Oh God, Mr. McConnallay. This is very generous. Thank you. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

“Thank your sister. It was her demand and one of her stipulations before accepting her role as president,” Zach told Lauren. She looked at me, stunned. “She will also give you the details of the membership we registered you for with NOMAA and POMAA—two great organizations you’ll want to acquaint yourself with.” If her bottom lip could’ve hit the floor, it would’ve. “Oh, and one more thing, Mrs. Davidson,” Zach continued. “I’m sure you heard your sister’s remark earlier about not getting the memo. Any truth to that?”

“Go ahead and lie,” I yelled at her.

“Shut up, Abi!” Zach blurted at me, eyes flashing fire.

A silence overtook the group as everyone noted that he’d called me Abi, not Ms. Winterfield.

“Mrs. Davidson. I believe you were about to respond,” Zach said.

“I might have accidentally, intentionally left her name off the list of attendees,” Lauren said lowly but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Which one is it, Mrs. Davidson? Accidentally or intentionally?” Zach asked her.

“Intentionally,” she confirmed with a whisper.

“Look here, I don’t know and don’t care to know what your and Ms. Winterfield’s personal problems and issues are at home, but don’t bring them here to my and your fathers’ operation. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. McConnallay,” Lauren said.

“Do I make myself clear, Ms. Winterfield?”

I nodded my head and turned to my dad. “Wow, Adam. How long have you felt this way about me?” I knew using his first name would sting.

“Abi—”

I cut my dad off. “Just answer the question, please.”

He walked over and tried to reach out for me, but I pushed my chair back away from him. “I asked you a question,” I said sedately, holding back my tears.

“Abigail, sweetie. I’m sorry you overheard that. I thought you had left the building already.”

I retorted, “That’s not an answer, Adam. I asked you how long you felt this way about me. Did it start when I went to the bank and got the loan to improve your practice? Did it start when the money started rolling in? Did it start when the practice expanded and finally started getting good public reviews? Or did it start when I reversed the negative image that clung to your practice for years?”

He didn’t say anything, and Uncle Ernie stepped between us and told us to take it up in private, at home.

I countered, “I don’t have anything to say to any of you unless it’s business related. You all can leave my office. Now.”

As they were leaving, a gentleman entered with a bouquet of flowers and asked for me.

“I’m Abigail Winterfield,” I said.

“These are for you,” he said, handing me the bouquet with a smile. He turned and left.

I placed the bouquet on the desk and read the card.

It was from Zach, but the handwriting on the card was different. I shook my head. My dad looked over my shoulder and asked, “Are they from Gabe? He must have enjoyed seeing you yesterday for dinner. He even got you your favorite, calla lilies.”

I looked at him ferociously and said, “I believe I established that the only communication we have would be business related. Did I not make myself clear?”

He looked at me, wanting to say something else, but Zach intervened to push everyone to leave so that we could finish the evaluations. Zach saw everyone out of the office and made sure they were gone. He slammed and locked the door behind him and looked at me as if he wanted to rip my head off.

“Who the fuck is Gabe, Abi?” Zach demanded to know, charging at me from the door, loosening his red and white striped necktie that went nicely with his black Italian suit and red poplin shirt.

I was shocked, which made me stutter before I gathered my composure.

“Why? It’s not business related, is it now?” I teased, as I could sense his jealousy.

He got closer to me and lifted my chin with his left hand. He looked at me intently, and I swore that I felt steam rising from him. He was serious, and it was evident by the dark look on his face. He asked who Gabe was again.

“That is none of your business,” I said, removing his hand from my chin and pushing him away.

He grabbed me by my waist before I could get past him. He positioned himself back in front of me and backed me into the wall. He nuzzled at my neck and traveled up to nibble on my right earlobe.

Oh, damn, he’s doing it again. He knows this turns me on. It feels so good, but I am so mad at him. Oh, God, what do I do now
? The sensation raced throughout my body, and I felt it down to my twitching pussy.

“Who is Gabe, Abigail?” he whispered in my ear. This time the sound was sweet, warm, and so mesmerizing that I couldn’t push him away.

“My daughter’s dad,” I answered as if I were hypnotized. Hell, I was, and as much as I hated him at that moment, it all vanished with just a nuzzle against my neck.

“Why does your dad think he sent the flowers to you? And why did you have dinner with him yesterday?” He continued to kiss my neck and stroke my arms.

“I don’t know why Adam thought that Gabe sent the bouquet. And Adam and my stepmom invited him for dinner, not me,” I answered, still under his hypnosis.

He looked at me and asked if he could kiss me. I kissed him, silently answering yes.

“I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but give me one anyway,” he managed to say with his tongue in my mouth.

He ran his hands through my hair and yanked my head back like he had done so many times before on Saturday. Panting, he seduced my neck and throat. I moaned in approval.

“I want you right now, baby,” he whispered as he began to lift my dress above my hips. “Is that OK with you?”