IN BED WITH THE BOSS

“Thank you.” Felicia turned, smiling softly and extending her hands toward him. Scott enfolded hers in his, squeezing them. “But no, I want to spend some time with her before I grade papers. Although she always loves to hear you play. It’s been a while since you did that, Scott. Maybe you could bring your guitar with you sometime this week.”

“I’ll do that,” he agreed. His mother had been responsible for him first picking up the instrument. She’d found a battered acoustic Fender at a garage sale, and from the second he’d held it, he’d been enamored. Though extra money had been almost nonexistent during his childhood, she’d still found a way to pay for lessons. No one outside the family had ever heard him play, because it was for him. His peace.

His way to lose himself and get away from the stresses of running a multimillion dollar company.

His mother cupped his cheek, giving it an affectionate pat before lowering her arm. “Now, not that I don’t enjoy you dropping by, but is everything okay?”

“Yes. There’s something I do need to speak with you about, though.” He propped a hip against the island and crossed his arms over his chest.

She studied him, then nodded, copying his pose.

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“I had a…business meeting last night,” he said.

“With Jennifer Bennet. Bruce Bennet’s sister.”

Surprise widened his mother’s eyes. “I didn’t even know he had a sister,” she whispered, then shook her head. “Why, Scott? What could you possibly have to discuss with her?”

“Our common interest,” he said. “Her brother.”

“Scott,” she murmured, tilting her head to the side. “What did you do?”

Meeting his mother’s gaze, he relayed his conversation with Jennifer, including his revelation of all he’d dug up on Bruce, the ultimatum he’d delivered and her refusal to give him an answer.

“What are you thinking, son?” she asked, worry crowding her gaze. “She’s innocent in all this.”

Innocent? Innocent was one word he wouldn’t have associated with Jennifer Bennet. He’d done his homework on her before ambushing her at the restaurant. Twenty-Seven years old. Graduated with honors from university with a bachelor’s in finance and entrepreneurship and a master of business administration. A member of Women in Business and International Business Society. Currently worked as vice president of the Social Development department at Bennet Inc. And from what he could tell, the position was nothing but a fancy term for event coordinator, and definitely underutilized the education she’d received. All this information could be found on her social network platforms or the company’s website. Only a deeper dive below the surface uncovered her ownership of Leida Investments. The degrees and obvious intelligence had made her interesting. But this- the company she owned in secrecy-fascinated him. This society princess who organized brunches and galas was a mystery wrapped in an enigma. And anything he couldn’t dissect and analyze he mistrusted.

Tack onto that her last name, and he wouldn’t dare to blink around her, vigilant of the knife that might slide into his back in that flick of time. It made him mistrust her even more.

“She’s a Bennet, Mom,” he said, “She doesn’t have clean hands.”

“That’s probably the same logic Bruce employed when he went after your sister,” Felicia pointed out, and the words struck him in the chest, burrowing into his heart.

“I’m nothing like him,” he ground out, lowering his arms and curling his fingers around the edge of the marble top. “He stalked Sara, lied to her, used her, then tossed her aside like yesterday’s trash. I’ve been completely upfront with Jennifer , laying my intentions out and offering her a choice. Bruce stole Sara’s choice from her.” He broke off, tipping his head back and deliberately cooling his rising temper.

“You might not agree with my methods, and I’m sorry for that. But I didn’t do anything when he damn near broke my sister, because you both asked me not to. I can’t let it go this time. I’m not going to allow Bruce Bennet to continue mistreating women. By the time I’m finished with him, he will have nothing left, and no woman will fall victim to him again.”

It was the guilt that drove him.

Because it was his fault Bruce had sought out Sara in the first place. If not for their mutual hatred and ongoing feud, she would’ve been safe.

“Scott.” His mother shifted forward, once more cupping his cheek. “You’re right. I don’t agree with your methods. I believe they will more than likely backfire, and not only will an innocent woman be hurt, but you will, too, son. If you have a conscience- which I know you do-there’s no way you can’t be affected by this path. And I wish you would end it now before this goes too far.” She sighed, her gaze searching his. “But I also know you. And from the moment you refused to be born on your due date, I figured out you’re stubborn. I’m not going to change your mind, I get that. So just…please. Be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me. I have everything under control,” he assured her, hugging her close.

She didn’t reply, instead squeezed him tighter. He hated disappointing her, but nothing, nothing could dissuade him from his plans. Not her disapproval. Not Jennifer’s reluctance and refusal to give him a decision. He had one purpose. To bring down Bruce Bennet.

And hell couldn’t stop him from accomplishing it.

_____________

Scott McCall worked like a demon, Vivian thought as she took one look at him sitting behind his desk. All morning long he crunched numbers, building financial models on his computer, and she stayed in his office, helping him too.

He decided that it was better she brought in her laptop since he’d be needing her help for various tasks and always calling her to his office would only be unnecessarily time consuming.

His single-mindedness was impressive, Vivian thought as she sat on the other side of his desk, trying not to stare at the way his hair waved thickly around his ear and to concentrate on answering the series of questions he shot at her so rapidly that she felt as if she were taking part in a televised quiz show.

During the morning his jacket came off. Then the tie. A little later the top two buttons of his shirt were impatiently opened and Vivian observed these with a horrified kind of fascination. What next? she thought.

Would he start peeling off his trousers? Would he soon be sitting there wearing nothing but a pair of-undoubtedly-silk boxer shorts?

He looked up and frowned. “Is something the matter, Miss Sanchez? You’re looking quite flushed.”

“It’s … hot in here,” she managed to say.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“It is-?” he asked. “The AC is on.”

Vivian nodded. Realizing how stupid she must have sounded.

“You can open the window over there if you need some fresh air,” he suggested.

She was surprised he didn’t tack on like a good girl, but she was glad of the excuse to turn away and to allow the summer air to wash over her heated cheeks. She prayed that he couldn’t read her mind as she turned back to pick up a sheaf of papers and begin to work through them. So far neither of them had brought up the kiss at the cheesecake shop, and honestly Vivian was almost starting to believe that it hadn’t happened… or at least she tried to make herself believe it because the alternative was just too damn depressing.

At one point, Betty knocked and poked her head round the door. “Sir, The canteen’s closing soon,” she announced. “And they want to know are you eating lunch?”

He didn’t even look up. “Get them to send some sandwiches and coffee over, would you, Betty?”

Betty raised her eyebrows expressively in Vivian’s direction as if to say, Tyrant. “Sandwiches all right for you?”

“Fine,” said Vivian shortly, and got to her feet as Betty disappeared. “But if I don’t get some fresh air soon, I’ll expire. I’m going to take a walk so I can stretch my legs a little. if that’s alright with you, Mr McCall?”

He looked up then, saw the strained expression on her face and wondered if he had been working her too hard. She lifted her hand to push away a stray strand of hair and her wrists, he noted inconsequentially, were as delicate as the slender ankles. She looked delicate. So delicate she might break. He gave a frowning glance at his watch. And it was getting on for two o’clock-they had worked right through without a single break.

He rubbed his eyes. “Sure.” He removed his hand from the keyboard, stretched, and yawned. “I might come with you-maybe I could give you a guided tour too.” His voice deepened. “If that’s alright with you, Miss Sanchez”

The soft tone momentarily disarmed her even more than the yawn, which gave her a glimpse of a rare moment of relaxation. Did he always drive himself so hard, she wondered, and if so-why? He was so rich already.

She smiled. “Is that an order, Mr McCall?”