Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) (10 page)

“You tell me,” he countered.

Wracking her brain as to why he would be angry, she could only think of one reason.

Mason.

“Does the word private mean fuck all to anyone anymore?” she huffed, slumping back into the comfort of the creamy soft leather.

“Mikala,” he scolded.

With a raised brow she challenged him, if he was going to meddle in her personal life, he’d have to deal with her swearing. She wasn’t a child and could choose her own words and heartfelt ways of expressing them. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him just that, the door opened and Mikala looked over in time to see Eden enter the room.

“Fuck this,” Mikala said, rising to her feet and slinging her purse over her shoulder, “I’m out of here!”

“Mikala, sit!” Chase roared, “I am a busy man with a very busy schedule and unlike you, I do not have time for bullshit.”

Chase opened his top desk drawer and lifted out a blue folder sliding it across the desk. Mikala reluctantly took the folder and sat as she flipped through the contents.

“Call me stupid, but I don’t understand,” she said, watching as Eden took the chair beside her.

“Can you understand one hundred and fifteen signed private contracts?” Chase asked, “This is only a portion of my most influential clients interested in a membership at the club. Word of mouth goes a long way in the business world.”

“Holy shit,” Mikala muttered, as she fanned through the contracts, impressed by the names of big business, high stakes players she so often saw in the news and local business pages of the newspaper. “These are for real?”

“All they require are your signature,” Chase said, smiling.

“Got a pen?” she laughed, as Chase handed her the pen from his breast pocket.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Eden offered with a smile. “Let’s celebrate tonight at
BLU,
I’ll make reservations.” Eden was up and out the door before Mikala could protest.

“Sure…sounds great…why don’t you make reservations…no I’m not busy at all,” Mikala joked, as she looked out the picture window to her side, since no one else cared to listen.

“I have a meeting in five, you finish signing those and leave them on my desk and I’ll have my lawyer file them away,” he said, with a wink.

Client confidentiality required utmost privacy, especially when it came to some of the names they were bringing in. All the existing files had been transferred to Chase’s lawyers the day she and Chase had become partners. He stepped in, creating a new way of handling the club’s files and maintaining privacy, never completely taking over, merely navigating the ship into still waters, for which she was grateful.

“Is Eden in on this meeting?” she asked, before he left.

“No, I’m not sure what her plans are,” he said. “Hit extension two, Amanda will tell you where to find her.”

“Thanks Chase, see you tonight.”

“Tonight,” he called out, as he tore down the hall.

One hundred and fifteen signed contracts later, Mikala hit number two on the phone and listened while it rang twice, “Hi, Mr. Dean how can I help you?” Amanda, Eden’s overly enthusiastic assistant asked.

“Hi Amanda, its Mikala,”

“Hello Miss. Santino, it’s been a while, how are you keeping?”

“I’m doing well,” Mikala answered. “Sorry but I’m kind of in a rush, is Eden around?” It was better to get to the point with Amanda or it could turn into an agonizingly lengthy conversation.

“Mrs. Dean’s down in the print room,” Amanda said.

“Where would I find that?”

“On the tenth floor, second door on the left as you get off the elevator. Did you want me to let her know you are on your way?”

“No, that’s fine, thanks.” Mikala said, “I’ll talk to you again.”

“Goodbye Miss Santino, have a great day.”

The claustrophobic elevator ride earlier had been nothing compared to the overstuffed compartment she found herself in this time. She was sure a truckload of cattle going to slaughter had more room and probably smelled better. The conglomeration of men’s cheap cologne and woman’s fruity, flowery perfumes and body sprays, clotted the air with a thick nasty film, she could practically taste it in the back of her throat as she held back a gag.

She shoved her way off the elevator and inhaled several breaths of fresh air before knocking at the door earmarked Prints and Developing.

“It’s open!” Eden yelled.

“It’s me,” Mikala said, walking into the dimly lit room. “What are you doing?”

“Enlarging a drawing for a presentation with new clients, it’s a Victorian lobby. What do you think?” Eden asked.

“I think you’re a fucking genius with a crayon,” Mikala said, stepping closer for a better look. She admired Eden’s creative talents, often envying her ability to take something shabby and drab and turning it into something elegant and truly breathtaking.

“Crayons,” Eden scowled, “seriously Mik?”

“You know I’m kidding,” Mikala laughed, squeezing Eden’s ass cheek and receiving a slap in return. “It’s beautiful.”

Eden lifted the print from the copier taking it over to a large laminator and feeding it in. With a few turns of a dial and flips of switches, they watched as it slowly disappeared inside and the timer started ticking away.

“That will take about ten minutes, let’s have a seat and talk,” Eden invited, pulling out a chair at the tiny table in the corner of the room.

“If this is about Mason and me not going to his place can we skip it, because I’m so talked out when it comes to that man,” she said, sitting. “There’s nothing between us anymore, Eden. You have to understand I’m over him, I’m done, and I’m finished.  Yes we had a relationship and yes it was good, but it was only good while it lasted.”

“Well thanks for enlightening me, but I was going to ask what you plan on wearing tonight to
BLU
,” Eden said. “By the way, the reservations are for seven.”

“I’m sorry, Eden,” Mikala said, feeling like a crazy woman for flipping out.

She couldn’t be blamed for jumping to conclusions, after all, each turn she took and every single person she ran into had an opinion when it came to her and Mason and what was best for them. But they simply didn’t exist together, and no matter how loud she roared it from the rooftops, no one was getting it, not a soul could just accept that they were not a couple. Mikala was beyond frustrated.

“Not to worry,” Eden said, laughing, “you and Mason can figure yourselves out…so, what are you wearing?”

“Who’s all going?” Mikala asked, because she wasn’t convinced Eden was throwing in the towel, she was the matchmaker of Boston and if you didn’t want to be hooked up, you avoided her at all costs.

“The usual,” Eden said, moving to the laminator to check on its progress, “Me, you, Chase, I texted Carl but haven’t heard from him yet, I think his phone may be off,” she faded off.

“Tell me you didn’t invite Mason,” Mikala said, slanting her head and surveying Eden’s reaction as she tried to avoid eye contact.

“Huh?” Eden muffled under her breath.

“Eden?”

“
I
did not invite Mason, cross my heart,” Eden said, crossing her index finger over her chest, with a smile that told Mikala she wasn’t entirely truthful. The fingers on her other hand were probably crossed behind her back.

Five hours later, while enjoying appetizers and the first round of drinks, Carl appeared at the table with a companion at his side. Mason took a seat tipping his head and grinning. Mikala immediately fizzled into miserable bitch mode.

“Sorry we’re late. I had to have Mase pick me up, my cars in the shop yet again, lousy piece of shit.” Carl said with a laugh, immediately jumping into a conversation with Chase regarding mechanics.

“Mik, I,” Eden started to speak but Mikala’s glare stopped her.

“Don’t even try,” Mikala snarled, “I may never speak to you again, bitch.”

The waitress came to the table with menus, she leaned forward to pass a menu across the table, resting her hand on Mason’s shoulder and laughing as they glanced at each other. Perhaps it was a touch of the green eyed monster, although she wasn’t going to admit it to herself or anyone else for that matter, but the appeal of beating the waitress’s pretty little face with the leather bound menu was tempting.  Mason’s eyes were on Mikala’s as if he felt the darts aimed for his chest, he shrugged and Mikala narrowed her eyes turning away.

After spending most of mealtime shuffling her food around on the plate, she shoved it off to the side and belted back her third Blue Martini, as she stared down Mason sitting directly across the table. Just as the waitress brought the next round of drinks and cleared the table, his eyes finally met hers and he smiled. She gritted her teeth and growled.

“Are you okay, sugar?” Mason asked.

“Never better,” she replied, taking the lemon curl from the rim of the glass and adding it to the growing pile of fruit and cocktail napkins.

“Did I do something to piss you off?” he asked.

“Of course you didn’t,” Eden answered, giving Mikala an elbow to her side. “Did he, Mik?”

“Another Martini here,” Mikala ordered, handing over her empty glass to the waitress as she rose to her feet. “Actually, make it a double. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll come with you,” Eden said, starting to rise.

“No,” Mikala snapped, “You stay there I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

Mason watched as she veered from the direction of the washrooms and headed out to the roof deck.

The sun was dropping from view with an orange pink glow far off in the distance, it was beautiful. Mikala rested her elbows on the rail and looked out over the treetops across the street and sighed. She couldn’t believe how badly she was behaving, it was a night to celebrate and she was acting like a child all because of Mason, the most infuriating man on the planet.

She was so undeniably confused and emotionally spent that the idea of jumping over the rail seemed disturbingly pleasant as she looked down at the ground. Closing her eyes she pictured herself running through a wide open field, not necessarily from anyone or anything, simply running free. It was that kind of freedom that went undisturbed because nothing could reach it, it was peaceful and serene. In this place there were no demands, no voices to disturb your thoughts and the only things to deal with were the dreams you held in your heart.

Her eyes slowly opened as she felt his heat at her back. He hadn’t touched her but she knew he was standing there; she could smell his scent in the air and hear each breath he exhaled, after breathing her in.

“Mason.”

“Give me a moment of your time,” Mason pleaded, as he pressed his body against her back.

“Yes,” she agreed, enjoying the feel of him molded to her.

“Sugar, I need you,” he said, with his lips against to the shell of her ear, “Say you need me too, put us back together where we belong.”

“Mason…”

He tightened his grip around her waist, “At least say you’ll think about the idea of us, before you say no.”

Mikala couldn’t give him an answer, as she stood silent listening to each breath he took in, feeling it warm on her skin with each breath out.

The feel of his disappointment as his body retreated from hers, made her want to reach out and pull him close, but she resisted the urge and turned in his arm before they dropped to his side.

“I won’t give up on us,” he told her. “But I will allow you room.”

A cold chill ran up her spine as she watched him turn and walk away. Inside he sidestepped the table with a wave to his friends and pressed the elevator button as he glanced in her direction. His sad face as he climbed inside and the door slowly closed brought unwanted tears to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away and joined her friends inside.

“Scared him off did you?” Carl asked, with a frown as all eyes landed on her.

“I thought we were here to celebrate,” Mikala asked, reaching for her drink. “A toast,” she held her glass in the air.

“To new beginnings and a wonderful past forgotten,” Chase said, with a glower.

Her chest tightened as her eyes scanned the group. She swigged back her drink and stood. “Fuck you all,” she whispered, holding back the threat of tears and ran from the table.

The mail on Mikala’s desk badgered her thoughts as she busied herself with phone calls, avoiding the dreaded red envelope tucked in the depths of the pile. Nearing the end of the list of calls she had to make by the day’s end, she reached over and lifted the pile of mail, sitting it in front of her. She mulled over whether to start at the top and work her way to the ominous letter, or leap right in and face it first.

Face it first she decided, carefully tearing into it with her letter opener. Folding open the heavy red paper, she laid it on the desk smoothing it out. The letter contained a list of names and as she read each one aloud, she gasped when she realized who they were. These were the names, placed meticulously in alphabetical order, of the more powerful, high-ranking members of the club.

How he had gotten hold of this information was beyond her. The contracts and the mailing list were safely in the hands of Chase’s lawyers and before that, they had always remained under lock and key in the wall safe. To get access from her computers there were three passwords and it was encrypted.