Page 49

“Mr. Kingsley hired her back as a consultant?” An unfamiliar voice whispers as a symphony of clicking and clacking heels step into the bathroom. I freeze and hold my breath. They must be talking about me.

“Did you hear she worked as a stripper at The Orchid? Chuck told me earlier. Apparently, his father is a member there and Mr. Kinglsey made a big scene over her at some casino night.” This screechy voice I recognize—Andrea, the mean girl I ran into a few times before as an intern who always looked down on me whenever we passed by each other in the halls.

“No way! Our Mr. Kingsley is losing his cool over her? What does he see in her, anyway?”

“Who knows? Look at how she’s dressed now.

It’s like she wants to be one of us when she used to be in those rags.

Maybe she’s a kept woman now. I mean, he’s in such a good mood today after barking at us for months straight.

” Andrea snorts and I peek through the gap between the stalls and see her hunched over the mirror, no doubt reapplying her makeup.

The shock from the conversation wears off and ice forms in my veins as my pulse roars in my ears. I fist my hands as I realize the awful rumors swirling about my return.

“You guys shove it. Grace is super nice and smart. I’m sure those are just rumors blowing everything out of proportion. And whatever she did or didn’t do isn’t any of our business.” A new voice joins them.

Jamie.

But now, listening to the girls gossip, telling sordid tales about what they heard I did or didn’t do, with Jamie trying her best to smother the rumors on my behalf, a burning heat gathers in my chest and rises up my throat.

Gnashing my teeth together, I clean up and flush the toilet, the noise shocking everyone into silence.

Pulling back my shoulders, I step outside my stall, my lips curled into a sneer as I arch my head up and stare at Andrea and the new girl with unconcealed contempt. I won’t bow down to the mean girls. They don’t get to talk shit about me and think I’ll take it lying down.

Jamie lets out a shaky laugh and bites her lip. “G-Grace, the girls were joking, I’m sure.”

Andrea snorts. “No, we aren’t. You’re a kept woman, making it look bad for the rest of us.”

The new girl, a brunette with a haughty air, crosses her arms over her chest. “Slut.”

Red mists my vision and I step toward them, ignoring Jamie’s pleading.

They glance at each other and step back until Andrea’s backside hits the sink.

I stare at her and the new girl, even though they’re taller than me, but in this moment, height ceases to matter because of the fury burning in my chest.

I crowd in and bare my teeth. “If you guys spent half the time focused on your work instead of gossiping about things you know nothing about, Mr. Kingsley wouldn’t need to hire me to help him with TransAmerica.

I wouldn’t need to come back to clean up your mess.

So please, save me the holier-than-thou attitude and actually do your job.

I couldn’t care less about your so-called rumors or opinions of me.

I’d have to respect you first before I care. ”

Stepping back, I wash my hands as the girls process my words, their frames shaking.

“Grace?” Jamie asks in a soft voice.

I ball up a paper towel and toss it in the trash. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m fine.”

Turning back to the two mean girls, I growl, “I’m from the South Bronx. I came from nothing and am not afraid to get my hands dirty. You talk shit about me again, and you’ll regret it. ”

I push open the door and stalk back to my cubicle, my heart still racing a mile a minute, and I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, willing my emotions to settle.

Moments later, Jamie’s voice sifts through the silence. “Don’t listen to them, Grace. They’re just jealous of you. You were always the smartest one out of all of us.”

I turn and face her. “Aren’t you curious if anything they say is true or not?”

“Of course I am. Curiosity is a natural thing, but it doesn’t matter to me. You’re kind and intelligent, and you deserve to be here more than anyone else in the room.” Jamie unleashes a bright smile. “I’m really glad you’re back, cubicle buddy.”

Her words are a balm to my burning chest and I feel the tension slowly melting away. I thank her and turn back to my computer, finding an instant message waiting for me.

Steven Kingsley

I thought I’d feel less distracted with you here, but it’s only getting worse.

My chest tightens as I think about the comments from the women moments ago. I swallow. It doesn’t matter what they say. You and Steven know the truth and you’ll show everyone your worth with the quality of your work.

Blowing out a breath, I respond.

Grace Peyton

How so, Mr. Kingsley?

Steven Kingsley

I just want to call you in here and make you come all over my mouth. I didn’t get a chance to taste you yet, and it’s driving me insane.

Heat travels to my face as my core clenches at the image of him burying his head between my legs. I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

Grace Peyton

This is sexual harassment, Mr. Kingsley. We are on company software and I’m your consultant.

Steven Kingsley

I know people who’ll wipe this clean. It’d be as if nothing ever happened. And your feistiness is getting me hard.

Grace Peyton

Sir, this is inappropriate.

Steven Kingsley

Fuck. I need to hear you call me sir while I make you swallow my cum.

My nipples pebble at his messages and I squeeze my thighs together, a poor attempt to relieve the ache gathering there. I bite my lips, a devious side wanting to show up and play.

Grace Peyton

Sir, get back to work. We are saving your father’s company. And if you’re lucky, maybe you get to have dessert later tonight.

Steven Kingsley

Damn. Your bossiness is so sexy. I can’t wait to break it down and make you melt.

I glance at his closed door, part of me wanting to say screw it and walk inside and have him show me what he meant, but I refrain from my baser urges. There’s still a war to be won and I’m here to earn my keep and show those gossipmongers I deserve to be here with everyone.

Steven Kingsley

Back to work, darling. Welcome back. I’m happy you’re here. *Smiley face*

My heart melts at his words and the emoji that is so unlike him, I have a hard time thinking it’s from the same icy-cold man I met all those months ago.

But just as I suspected, underneath the bespoke suits and chilly outbursts lies a giving heart.

I let out a sigh, the warmth from his words seeping inside me.

I’d brave all the rumors and barbs to witness this side of him.

With a smile on my face, I focus on my work in front of me, an in-depth analysis on the North American subsidiaries of Voss Industries, which includes some grunt work of combing through several years’ worth of financial statements and footnotes, tedious to many people but enjoyable for me.

This is what I excel at, digging deep into the numbers, searching for anomalies, inconsistencies, red flags which might indicate nefarious activities.

Timothy Voss doesn’t keep his hands clean, and no one is perfect.

If there’s dirt to be dug up, it has to be in the numbers.

I grit my teeth as I think of the odious man, the bane of my existence when I was dancing at The Orchid.

I’ll relish being part of the team to take him down for his scummy ways when I felt so powerless against him before.

He saw me as a body, but now, he’ll remember me for my mind.

Determination whips through me and the hum of the office chatter fades into the background as I immerse myself in the world of numbers and fine print, highlighting areas worth looking into after my cursory review.

Hours slip by and my breath catches as I pause on the footnotes of the financials on my screen.

Frowning, I scroll back up and click to the statements on the other tabs opened in my browser.

My fingers tremble as my mouth parts in a gasp.

I think I found something. This has to be how Voss is getting to the other shareholders. I need to let Steven and the team know.

“Grace, Jamie, conference room one. Hancock just sold his shares of TA to Voss. We need to debrief now.” Hayley comes out of her office, a burst of frantic energy piercing the room, and I quickly gather my notepad and laptop and follow her to the conference room, where Steven has gathered with Bradley and a few other individuals.

A hardness returns to his eyes, all traces of the flirtatious man from the instant messages disappearing.

A pulse thuds heavily on his forehead as he glares at the group in the room. “What does he have on Hancock that we don’t? Why are we always one step behind Voss?”

Steven paces around the room, a thundercloud hanging over his head, and we scramble to take a seat. My eyes catch his and for a split-second, those tawny irises soften as I give him a subtle nod, a hug from afar.

He holds my gaze for a moment, his tensed shoulders softening as he exhales.

“Does anyone have any updates? They are at forty-three percent to our thirty-five. The stock price is plummeting. This is impacting the entire market because the public thinks there’ll be economic upheaval around the corner. Any thoughts?”

The room is silent other than the soft humming of the air conditioning in the background.

I glance around, taking in Bradley’s pale face glistening with sweat, Hayley’s normally perfectly coiffed hair falling out of her bun, and I slowly raise my hand.

Steven’s eyes snag on mine, a flare of admiration reflecting in those amber pools. “Grace?”

“This is very preliminary because I only just got started. But I tracked down the financial statements of their most recent North American subsidiaries before they got acquired by Voss. There’s an unusual spike of cash outflows earmarked as ‘other’ in the months leading up to their acquisitions.

I don’t see any corresponding purchases of equipment or headcount increases or anything that would make it seem like they need to use this cash.

The notes are especially vague. This is a big hunch, but it smells like a cash payout of some sort. ”

His gaze sharpens, his expression darkening as his jaw clenches. “Fucking Voss. He’s blackmailing them, isn’t he? That’s how he got to McGinnis and Hancock. Shit.”

I purse my lips. “If that’s the case, the next target would most likely be Senator Townsend.

He holds ten percent of the company, and originally my focus wasn’t on him, given how powerful Townsend is, but if Voss is resorting to illegal means, he’s desperate for TransAmerica then.

I think it would be prudent to find out why he is so interested in TransAmerica. That may be the leverage point.”

Hayley volunteers, “I’ll dig into any Voss and TransAmerica relationship.” She arches her brow at me, her lips tilting up in something I recognize…respect.

“I’ll take Townsend then. His son owes me a lunch, anyway,” Bradley murmurs from his seat, some color finally returning to his complexion.

“Fine. Get to work, then. Grace, you stay behind.” He doesn’t look up as he rummages through a few binders on the table.

I glance at the others, noting the quirked brows and once-overs from Hayley and Bradley and my face heats.

After overhearing what people are saying about me and Steven in the bathroom today, I have no doubt what they’re thinking.

Jamie smiles at me sympathetically as the group leaves the room, leaving Steven and me in the quiet space.

He finally stops fiddling with the pages, and looks up, the coldness in his gaze from moments earlier warming instantly, his eyes intense as he takes me in, like he didn’t just see me hours ago when he dropped me off at my apartment after our night spent in each other’s arms. He walks to the door and begins to close it.

“Please. Leave it open.” My pulse quickens, but I don’t want to be subjected to more murmurs and rumblings on my first day of work.

Steven’s brows furrow as his eyes skate over my face, as if cataloging every infinitesimal twitch and meaning behind my placid expression.

I force a smile. I’m fine.

He shakes his head. You’re not.

Slowly he approaches me, his steps light, and he pushes me toward the back of the room, out of sight of the bullpen and the windows. He steps up to me and tilts my head up.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“Nothing. ”

“Don’t lie to me. We’re doing this together, remember?” His hand comes up to my face and curls a lock of hair behind my ear.

I inhale his intoxicating scent, my body coming alive in his presence, and I sigh. “There are rumors about me in the office. I don’t want to add fuel to a fire.”

He stiffens, his eyes darting toward the open door again. “I’m not afraid. Are you? Your work speaks for itself.”

He takes my hands in his, his long digits softly caressing mine, sending shivers through my body. “We’re a team.”

His soft words, uttered in that smooth, whiskey voice of his, send heat throughout my body, warming it up from my inside. He steps away, respecting my need for space in this environment, his warm gaze never straying from my face.

My eyes mist. A team. Someone I can depend on to shoulder my burdens. I’m no longer alone. Rolling my lips inward, I sniffle to stem the impending tears threatening to break free. He furrows his brows even more.

“Darling?”

I shake my head. Fuck this, I don’t care about the idiots outside.

My hands travel to the back of his neck, and I pull his head down toward me and press my lips to his. He inhales sharply as I lick the seam of his smooth lips, slipping my tongue in and tasting him.

He takes control of the kiss, his hand traveling up my back and gripping the nape of my neck as he angles my head and deepens our connection.

He groans and presses our bodies together, so that every hard plane of his chest and abs is pressed to my soft curves.

I can feel the telltale bulge rubbing against my stomach and I whimper.

A faint sound of a phone ringing in the distance breaks through the swirling sensations and I reluctantly step away, but not before pressing another lingering kiss on his lips. With a smile, I walk out of the room, my head and shoulders held high, feeling his eyes tracking my every movement.