Senior Advisor to the Boss: Billionaire Obsession Dark Romance (Managing the Bosses Series Book 9) (3 page)

“What kind of rumors would those be?” Jamie asked. She had a pretty good idea, but it was interesting to see what an outsider had heard.

Marla pressed her lips tight a moment. She wasn’t the gossip type. She clearly was all business. “That you're having a problem with one of your employees. Or some of your employees. And that they've got a case up against you in court. Things like that tend to scare customers away and drive down stock prices. I don't want to join your company just to find out that it's falling apart at the seams and all the work that I did to get my company as high up the food chain as it is has been wasted.”

Wow. That’s blunt. For an instant, Jamie clenched her jaw tight, angry that someone would believe Alex’s company was risky. How could Marla sit there and make accusations? But of course she could. This was business. She had a right to know if the company that she wanted to join was going to help her or cause her damage. It was a reasonable thing to want to know, and if she were in Marla’s place she would be asking the same thing.

“I can assure you,” Jamie said. She didn’t really enjoy the corporate double talk, but if she said too much there was a chance that Marla would change her mind about a connection with Reid Enterprises. The problem was, there was just as much chance that she would decide to leave if Jamie said too little and left her suspicious. Which meant talking circles around the actual problem, and that had always felt like lying to Jamie. She did it anyway. “That joining our company isn't going to be a waste. We're a well-established investment group, and we take a lot of pride in making sure that the experience on both sides of the line is positive.”

“I'm not sure that really answers my question,” Marla said.

Jamie had been afraid she was going to say something like that.

“I’ve been watching your company,” she went on. “And I’ve done the research. You’ve had a lot of trouble in the past couple years. Shootings. Near buy-outs. All that business with Nicholas Wright. I want to be sure trouble like that isn’t going to come along and take me down with you.”

“And, despite all that trouble,” Jamie said, “we’re still here. Reid Enterprises is still one of the most profitable and respected business in the investment industry.” She smiled across the table at the other woman. “The media always draw the story up with over-stuffed drama to catch reader’s attention. We’ve had a few bumps, most companies do, but we’ve also continued to expand and increase the value of our shares. What does that tell you about your chances of going down with us?”

Marla laughed. “Okay,” she agreed. “True. If you can handle all of that and come out the other side on top, I guess there’s not much chance of you failing now.” She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a contract, setting it on the table.

Jamie, as she turned it around to scan the text for Zephyr Technologies’ terms, hoped that Marla was right. They’d made it through everything else; they’d make it through whatever this was.

“Great,” Mark said, already moving toward the door. “Thanks, Daniel.”

He saw the manager nod, and then he was past him, clapping a hand on his shoulder on the way out and into the main room of the club house. Christine waved from the desk, her head tipped to hold a phone between her shoulder and chin while she scribbled something down on a sheet of notepaper. Mark waved in response, ducking out of the way of one of the other staff members hurrying past. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and lifted it to his ear.

“Mark Reid here.”

“Mr. Reid!” The voice on the other end was effusive, overly excited.

Mark wondered what they were selling this time. “Yes. That’s me. What can I do for you?”

“Mr. Reid,” the man said again, “my name is Aaron Rudnick, and I’m calling on behalf of the Pro Golf Tour.”

Mark’s heart beat a little faster. “How can I help you and the PGA, Mr. Rudnick?”

“This may come as a bit of a surprise but, I’m calling because we’d like to host one of the stops on our tour at your country club. It’s not something you have to answer right away, but…”

A little staggered, Mark leaned back against the door frame that led to the ballroom, the phone still held to his ear, Aaron Rudnick’s voice momentarily fading out to nothing as his thoughts spun around themselves. The Pro Golf Tour wanted to hold a tournament at Little Lake? They were small compared to the golf courses on the tour, still new, and—

“Are you still there, Mr. Reid?”

“Yes. Sorry. I’m here.” Mark clutched the phone a little tighter. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying,” Mr. Rudnick’s voice continued, “that it’s not something that you have to decide right away. If you’d like some time to discuss the opportunity with your staff and your investors, then we completely understand that. We don’t have to have a final decision today.”

“There’s no need to wait,” Mark said, laughing. “I know my answer already. We’d be honored to have you hold a leg of the Pro Golf Tour at Little Lake. Anyone would be crazy to say no to that.”

“Glad to hear it!” Mr. Rudnick chuckled. “These things are usually planned well in advance. The FedEx Cup tournaments are adding another to its lineup, making 48 tournaments instead of 47 this upcoming season. A course we were planning on using has had some issues, and we’ve decided to relocate the venue. Your club was mentioned and a number of players are apparently eager to try it out.”

“I’m honored. A little shocked, but completely honored.” In his mind he was already planning what needed to be done, and how many new staff he was going to have to hire. He didn’t even know the date. “Wh-When,” he cleared his throat and tried again, “When is the date?”

“Near the end of November. We’re looking to host it before the winter break. The McGladery Classic was held last year near Pittsburgh, but it needed a new location. It’s…” he paused as he spoke, probably to check the calendar or his notes, “the weekend of the twentieth. Four-day tournament. There’s a great opportunity for you here.”

Mark swallowed. Like a yearly tour stop? This was big. Bigger than big. He couldn’t wait to tell Erica. And Alex. He couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when he told them.

“We’ll of course be in touch with you frequently to make sure that things are going well on your end. There are a few adjustments you might have to make to your course. The regulations will be sent to you.”

Mark nodded as the man spoke, forgetting for a moment that Rudnick couldn’t see him. “Yes,” he said when he realized. “Of course. I’ll keep an eye out for them.”

“In that case, Mr. Reid,” Rudnick said, “I’ll go ahead and put you down as a definite location, barring any complications. I’ll send you a copy of our rules and regulations, which we’ll discuss in the near future. One of the PGA Tour specialists will be calling you to set up a meeting and go over the course.”

“Sounds good.”

“So glad to hear that you’re going to be hosting for us. Congratulations. Have a good day, Mr. Reid.”

“You, too.”

The call ended and Mark stood for a moment, staring at his phone, wondering if what he had just heard was actually real. He was tempted to pinch himself and make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Erica. She was going to want to know. He glanced down at the phone, and his excitement suddenly deflated. There were still several hours before Erica would be off work. Except, Mark thought, he was the boss. Which meant that he could take her off any time that he wanted to. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and headed out the door to his golf cart, hurrying down toward the driving range where Erica was teaching golfing lessons.

When he got there, she was standing by herself, drinking deeply from a bottle of water, and Mark slowed his steps, admiring her in the honey-gold light of the sun. The trees were starting to turn with autumn, and with her blonde hair and tan, she seemed to belong right there with them.

“Hey,” he said as he got close.

Erica turned and smiled at him, twisting the cap back onto the bottle. “What brings you all the way down here?”

“I just got a call from the Pro Golf Tour,” Mark said, speaking the words slowly, a little worried that if he said them it would turn out to be a dream after all. “Seems Little Lake is going to be hosting a tournament next November.”

He watched Erica’s eyes widen, a smile suddenly stretching across her face. “That’s fantastic, Mark!”

“Yeah.” Mark found himself smiling at her enthusiasm as she practically flung herself into his arms, wrapping hers around him in turn as he caught her, and kissing him hard. It wasn’t exactly the reaction that he had expected, but it was definitely one he approved of, and Mark kissed back just as eagerly. When they broke for air, they were both breathing a little harder.

“I’m actually having a hard time believing it,” he admitted.

“Well, you shouldn’t.” She grinned at him. “You have a great golf course. And, well,” she started giggling, “I may have pulled a few strings to make sure that you got a call.”

Mark took a step back, looking into her eyes, noting the slightly smug edge of her smile. “Really?”

Erica laughed. “Really, really.”

The arm that was still wrapped around her waist pulled her back in, pressing her body against his own, and Mark lifted his other hand to curl around the arch of her cheek, drawing her even nearer. “You are
the
best,” he breathed against her lips. “You know that?”

“Mmmm. I do try.”

And then they were kissing again. Slow, this time. Deep and lingering. Mark let his eyes fall shut, tasting her, feeling every line of her against himself. The whole world fell away around them.

“You know,” Erica said when they parted again, “we probably shouldn’t be doing this out in the open in front of the clients. Just an observation.”

She was probably right. Instead of stepping back, though, Mark caught her hand and pulled her toward the club house. “Consider this your break, then.”

Erica followed, laughing.

When they were inside, they took the stairs up to the apartment together, eager hands immediately stripping clothing off almost before the door had closed behind them. They didn’t care where it fell as they moved back toward the bedroom, kissing and touching and occasionally almost tripping over things. There wasn’t a lot of time before both of them had to be back at work, and Mark wanted her. Damn, he wanted her.

Laid out on the bed with her golden hair spilling across the pillow, she looked like… Well, mythology wasn’t his specialty, but she looked amazing, all long limbs and summer-tan skin. Someday, when they had more time, he wanted to lay her out like that and get his mouth and his hands on every inch of her. Drive her absolutely wild. But right now there wasn’t time for that, and he knelt between her legs, pulling her closer with his hands around her thighs until she was practically in his lap. The gasp that left her was enough to make him moan in answer.

“Come on, Mark.”

“You not in the mood to take it slow today?” he teased, knowing neither of them had the time. He stroked his fingers over the curve of her sex, feeling her wet and ready for him already, and groaned low in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Erica.”

She arched into the touch, opening her legs wider for him, and then he was pulling her in close and sliding inside her, satisfying them both with the press of it. Her spine pulled upward, lifting her body toward him, and Mark’s hands on her hips held her tight. They writhed against each other, meeting thrust for thrust. Erica’s name spilled from Mark’s lips with his panting breath, and he almost found himself whispering that he loved her. He swallowed the words back. Maybe it wasn’t quite the time. She might not be ready for it yet.

Another thrust, long and deep, and she was all but sobbing with the pleasure of it. Mark growled, and slid his hands up the curves of her ribcage to her breasts, cupping the weight of them, catching her nipples between thumb and forefinger and rubbing them with just enough pressure to make her moan his name.

“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he groaned as he moved. “So fucking perfect. Can’t believe you did that for me.”

“Mark,” she breathed, like it was all she could remember how to say.

Her hands were on him, her nails scratching down his back and leaving stinging marks in their wake. Just enough to hurt. Just enough to be absolutely intoxicating. Everything about her was. The way she felt. The way she smelled. He rocked his hips, filling her up again and again, and she took him like she was made for him. They were made for each other, he was sure.

He wasn’t going to last much longer. Pleasure was sparking through his veins, driving him toward the inevitable edge. It was building in a coil at the base of his spine.

She was close, too, Mark knew. Could feel the clench of her hands against his shoulders and the telltale shiver of her thighs. Her toes curled, and he slid a hand down to press his thumb over her clit, rubbing circles to match the pace of his thrusts. Erica’s body shuddered.

“Oh, fuck. Mark. Please.”

“Come on, baby. Come on. Give it to me.”

That was all it took. She was a strung-wire arch of pleasure underneath him, and then it was exploding through his own veins, filling him with sparkling heat. Mark came, gasping her name against the curve of her throat.

They lay there together in the bed, panting and satisfied, and Mark rolled off to the side, Erica immediately curling against his side.

“Wow,” she said, a little laughter in her voice.

“Good?” Mark teased, grinning down at her.

“Yeah,” Erica answered. The words were a little breathless. “Yeah. That was good. Damn.”

He slid his fingers gently through her ruffled hair, smoothing it back out again. “Have I told you that you’re beautiful?”

She smiled. “You’ve told me once or twice, I think. But I wouldn’t mind you telling me again.”

“You’re beautiful,” Mark repeated, leaning into steal a kiss. “Absolutely wonderful. Can’t believe I got lucky enough to score someone so perfect.”

Erica laughed. “I think you’re overdoing it a little with the flattery there, babe.”

“Alright. Fine.” Mark kissed her again, and then he rolled over and got up, starting to pull on his clothes. They both had to go back to work. “I’ll restrain myself, then. No more overly-effusive compliments.”

“I still get reasonably effusive compliments, though, right?”

“You still get reasonably effusive compliments,” Mark confirmed. “As often as you want them. And maybe sometimes a little more often than that.”

“I think I can live with those terms,” Erica said, rolling over to wrap her arm around one of the pillows and look up at him.

He wanted to get back in bed with her. There was nothing in the world that would have tempted him more. But he still had a job to do, and unfortunately he was the boss, which meant he couldn’t just quit. He pulled on his jacket and buttoned it up. Erica pouted at him.

“Sorry, baby,” Mark said. “I’ve got stuff I’ve got to get done.”

“I know,” Erica sighed. “I do, too, honestly. I just don’t want to get out of bed. I was hoping that I could talk you into giving us the rest of the day off so that we didn’t have to.”

“If only.”

With another put-upon sigh, Erica dragged herself out from under the sheets and began pulling on her own clothes. “Tonight?” she said hopefully.

“Tonight,” he groaned at the thought. “I’m going to take it slow. Give you a real thank you for being fantastic.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Mark smiled at her, wrapping an arm around her trim waist and drawing her in close. She looked up at him, her own arms sliding around his neck and her half-dressed body pressed against his own in a way that was incredibly distracting, and definitely made him want to go back on that statement about needing to work. He kissed her once, hard. “You know I’m good for it.”

“I know,” she said, and he pulled back.

“See you later, baby.”

“Later,” Erica agreed, and he was out the door and headed down the stairs, back to the daily grind.