Waltzing through the lobby of Long Multinational Systems, Richard admired the stark contrast to his own building. He had a love for contemporary simplicity. Clean lines. Cool tones. To him, this was much more grandiose. The plush furnishings and dark wood brought an old-world warmth, while the glass and granite accents kept the ambience high-end and almost regal. A huge painting of Everett Long looked down on the lobby from its position of prominence.
Richard’s gaze moved from the painting to scan the other walls of the vast entry. No evidence of Jaclyn, or Everett’s other children. Perhaps there was only one set of keys to the kingdom. Heading to the front desk, he was greeted by a well-dressed woman and two security guards, all standing as he approached.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Austin. Ms. Long is expecting you. This way.”
The woman led him to the elevator, where she insisted he enter first. Accustomed to setting his ingrained chivalry aside for the corporate world, he entered and she followed. She swiped her badge on the reader and pressed E. With E being the top floor, it had to stand for Executive Suites. “I’m Ms. Anderson, but you can call me Jean.”
“Thanks, Jean. Feel free to call me Richard,” he said and held his hand out to shake hers.
“Thanks for the offer, but old habits die hard. You’ll always be Mr. Austin in my book.”
He grinned. I feel a bet coming on.
She continued to hold his hand long after the shaking slowed.
“Jean?” He raised a brow, giving her a courteous clue to the lollygagging of her grip.
“Sorry, sorry.” She pulled her hand back as her gaze continued to wander his face. "Do we know each other? You seem so . . . familiar.”
He shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
She turned away, but it was his turn to study her.
She and Jaclyn had to be about the same age. And by her demeanor, she wasn’t admin support. Between her clothes and her thirty-thousand-dollar Omega diamond Constellation, she also wasn’t the average employee. She was a peer, and probably worked closely with Jaclyn. He suspected she was a confidante, and likely a close friend.
The elevator doors swished open, and she led him past several executive assistants as they made their way to Jaclyn’s office. Oddly, one seemed to be missing.
“Where’s Jaclyn’s assistant?” he asked.
Jean stopped. “She’s never had one. She prefers people have access to her without a gatekeeper. Feels the communication flows better. And if she ever needs anything, she’s got me. I’m sort of a jack-of-all-trades. My office is right there.” She gestured to her office placard. J. Anderson, V.P. Strategic Relations. “She was going to meet you herself, but I was heading down and offered.”
Something subtle remained masked behind her words. He asked, “Is she all right?”
Jean’s face filled with uncertainty. “If you ask her, she’s always all right. But I think it’s good that you’re here. She needs someone she can talk to outside of work.”
Before entering, he noticed the placard on Jaclyn’s door. J. Long, Chief Operating Officer. Jean knocked twice and opened the door for him, then silently shut it behind him as soon as he entered.
Jaclyn stood from her desk and walked over to greet him, giving him an exhausted smile. Her normally bright eyes were bloodshot and had traces of smudged mascara. Every step she took toward him was sluggish. She stopped short of a hug. Her awkward attempt at a handshake resulted in a modest laugh. His handkerchief was clasped in her hand.
“I’m pretty sure I insisted you keep it, for your sake and mine,” he said jokingly, clasping her hand in both of his.
“Thank goodness, because I’ve been a bit clingy with it. Nothing says ‘got it together’ like a grown woman with a woobie.”
His face dropped. “Tough day?”
She shook her head, seeming desperate to deny her struggle to hold back more tears. As he whisked her into a tight hug, she blurted, “I need to apologize.”
Her words turned into sobbing as her face found solace in the crook of his neck. He caught a glance of the magazine on her desk.
That’s me, all right.
He held her tighter, wrapping her in his warmth. “Ssh . . . you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be sorry. It’s obvious you’re dealing with a lot.”
Her weepy eyes met his. “Why would you be sorry? You’ve been nothing but wonderful. More than anyone I’ve ever met.”
With no good response to such a misinformed comment, he brought his lips to hers, letting his kiss soothe her in a way his words could not. Caressing her cheek and tucking her to his chest, he believed in that moment that nothing else mattered. With her body releasing the weight of the world, she molded to him. He slowly backed away from her lips.
“When’s the last time you slept?”
She smirked. “Sleep’s overrated. Mothers across the globe go without it for years on end. Ugh, I probably look like a zombie.”
He cradled her cheek in his hand. “A beautiful one, but you might be due for some downtime. How about you take a break from burning the candle at both ends? I’m guessing you haven’t had lunch. Why don’t you let me get you out of here?” He draped a few errant strands of hair behind her ear.
“I’m not sure you really want to do that.” She backed away and butted up against her desk, bracing her hands against the edge. “You should know what you’re getting into, and as you can clearly see, it’s not pretty. This is who I am. I bury myself in work, never really sure what time it is, or even what day it is. I sent you a text, and the next thing I knew, nearly a week had passed. I neglect people without realizing it. I don’t mean to, but I do. I always have, and I probably always will. If you want to go running for the hills, you’re entitled, because this,” her hands showcased her unkempt state, “is as good as it gets.”
He thought over her confession, as well as the tattered tracks he’d laid for his own career path. Maybe this was a chance to be himself—redeem himself—but still make headway.
Less tactic. More truth.
Hell, it’s worth a try.
Loosening his tie and unbuttoning the collar pinching his throat, he shared his own missteps.
“Jaclyn, I can’t even count how many women I’ve blown off over the years. I’ll dive into the deep end of a project and lose sight of everything and everyone. Nothing else matters. And every time I’ve climbed higher, so did my ego. My drive. My desperate insecurity to never fall from each new plateau. If ambition’s a crime, I’ll proudly stand condemned beside you. But,” his knuckle tenderly nudged her chin up, “I’m glad you called.”
“And I’m glad you came, but I can’t take all the credit. I was in a heated discussion earlier, and the person on the other end shamed me into facing the fact that I’d treated you like dirt.”
Richard kissed her again, relieved to feel her defenses drop as she shared deeper insights into her day. “Well,” he said, latching onto a bigger dose of honesty, “the guy sounds like a total dickhead. No doubt he knew exactly what you’ve been going through.” With a glance at the demonic bad-twin on the cover of Forbes, he added, “The son of a bitch should’ve backed off.”
Her laugh turned into a smirk. “Maybe. But directness doesn’t make him wrong. I should’ve called sooner. Had the dickhead not said anything, I might not have talked to you until tomorrow night. That is, if you even showed up at all after being ignored for a week.”
“Hey.” His mouth pressed softly to hers, and he smoothed her brow before resting his forehead to it. “Communication is a two-way street. If I was that concerned, I had your number. I could’ve called. Or texted. Sent smoke signals, if I really needed your attention. Unless you tell me not to, I’ll always show up. You can’t shake me that easily.”
Jaclyn shook her head slowly with a shy smile. “Why? Why do you always seem to be in my life at just the right time?”
Backing away from this question wasn’t an option. This was his chance to sweep away any doubts in her head.
He slipped his fingers through the silky hair at her nape, pulling her head to the side. His lips closed in on her ear. “Because you keep letting me in,” he whispered. “If you never shut me out, I’ll always be here, whenever and wherever you need.”
She shivered, and her breaths deepened as his lips seared tender, hot kisses down her neck. But he couldn’t ignore the incessant buzzing of her office phone.
“Sounds important,” he said, his voice low.
“Hmm?”
He pulled back to see her peering up at him with heavy eyes. He chuckled. “The phone. Sounds important.”
Her smile vanished as she snapped out of his seductive spell. “Oh God.” She bolted to her desk, grabbing the receiver. “Hey, Dad.”
Richard hid his satisfaction while unbuttoning his blazer, taking quiet strides to the window to gaze out while listening to snippets of the conversation.
“Yes. I mean no,” she said. “I mean . . . I wondered if he might pull back his offer.”
Richard’s ears perked up at that.
“Me? Have something to do with it? Whatever gave you that idea?”
No lies, but no disclosure. A woman after my own heart.
“Dad, listen, can we talk about this later? I’ve got someone waiting. I’m beat after this week, and with everything I need to do for tomorrow night . . .”
Richard barely made out Everett’s voice on the other end of the line, and beamed when Jaclyn said, “Yes, Dad. I have a date. No, not business. Just someone I’ve sort of been seeing.”
He looked over to catch her pink blush beaming in all its glory.
“You’ll meet him tomorrow night.” She caught Richard’s Hollywood smile and mouthed sorry.
It was enough to lure him over. He hugged her from behind while laying soft, silent kisses across her neck and shoulder.
“Well, if he’s dating me, no doubt. Gotta run. Love you.”
She took a second, hung up the phone, and spun in his arms to capture his lips. A few tongue tangles into it, he tore away.
“What was that about me dating you?” he asked, hating to have to interrupt the back and forth of nibbling each other’s lips.
“Oh, that. My dad just wanted to know which you were.”
Richard raised a quizzical brow when he caught the glint sparkling in her eyes.
“If you’re dating me,” she said blithely, “you must be either after my money or certifiably insane.”
His eyes darkened as he left one last kiss on her lips before leading her to the door. “Tough options,” he said, half kidding.
Her eyes gleamed with delight. “Is it PC to hope someone is stark-raving mad?”
He held the door closed for just a moment longer. “I’d say it’s a perfect description of someone who’s head-over-heels crazy about you.” He kissed her temple, then released her to open the door.
Richard deliberately distanced himself as they stepped out. The last thing he wanted was to crank up the rumor mill.