Colleen Frost was determined to earn her salary.
And by that, Colleen meant that she would earn it by being the most reliable admin or secretary or software consultant or whatever she was and would do whatever she had to in order to bring added value to Tristan King’s business meetings.
She didn’t mean that she was going to earn it on her back.
Although, if that’s what he wanted, she might have fallen onto a bed and gone for that, too.
No, no, no. Surely she didn’t mean—
Yes.
That evening at the Devilhouse with TwistyTrader had changed something for her. Once she’d processed it, it was like she’d taken three steps sideways and viewed the whole world from another angle.
So what if she had a fling? If there was a sexy, unattached guy who was interested in an evening of fun, why the hell shouldn’t she?
Everything her childhood church had ever told her about Hell and sin and punishment started whispering in her head, and she told it all to shut the Hell up.
They’d thrown her out, so she could throw their stupid shit away.
Maybe she might be a little bit sexy, and maybe she could do rash and wonderful things even if she wasn’t dressed in a Sailor Moon costume.
Granted, she could just do what TwistyTrader DM’ed to her, just follow his written instructions to get one more Good girl and a rush of pleasure that he told her was okay, and thus she’d rid herself of this tension, this hunger that she couldn’t seem to shake every time she was near Tristan King.
But maybe Tristan King might want her for an evening, too.
Just sitting next to Tristan in the car on the way over to the office had been an exercise in self-control as his fresh, sunny cologne had trickled off his skin in tiny rivulets that she could sometimes detect with a deep inhale. He’d taken off his suit jacket. His dress shirt, open at the collar, skimmed his broad chest and tight waist so closely that it had to have been tailored.
When they walked into the office, the carpeting underfoot was so luxurious that her ballet flats sank halfway up the sides. The desk looked like it had been carved to reside in a centuries-old manor house and hand-polished with artistry that had been lost over time.
The man behind the desk stood, his height barely changing from when he had been seated in the leather office chair. When he extended his short arm, he looked like a child’s stuffed toy that had been left on the adults’ furniture, and the men shook hands. “Mr. King! I didn’t think you would ever travel to the States again after Mr. Stanley Bell passed away so tragically.” He paused and lowered his head for an instant before he continued, “I assure you, however, I have not neglected your account.”
Tristan shook his hand with two dignified pumps. “May I present my associate, Ms. Colleen Frost. Colleen, my wealth management consultant, Mr. Killian Toledano.”
Colleen grinned and hoped it wasn’t too unprofessional. “Pleased to meet you.”
Tristan told the man, “I need to discuss liquidating my holdings.”
“Liquidate?” Toledano bleated. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I’ve had an opportunity,” Tristan said as he sat in one of the two chairs before the desk and motioned for Colleen to do the same. “Actually, less like an opportunity and more like an offer I can’t refuse.”
Colleen pulled out a pen and notepad she’d brought from Phoenix and wasn’t sure what to write down.
Also, ‘an offer he couldn’t refuse’ sounded like Mafia. Maybe that was the reason people were shooting at him that morning?
Toledano raised his ginger eyebrows. “If you’re in trouble, I have to tell you that there are limitations on how much money we can transfer and not draw the attention of certain regulatory agencies that you don’t want to provoke.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. I’m making arrangements to put together a large business transaction, and I’m going to need most of my holdings in cash to complete it.”
Colleen scribbled some notes even though she was pretty sure Tristan didn’t need to know what he had said.
Toledano began to fidget with the office accessories on his desk, lining up the stapler and some pens at right angles to his green desk blotter. “How much do you think you’re going to need to withdraw?”
“All of it.”
Toledano’s squeak was pure panicked mouse. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Let me do it? I said I need to withdraw the money I deposited here. I don’t need advice about it.”
“No, no, I meant that the money isn’t accessible at this time.”
Tristan squinted at him while Colleen scribbled notes. “Our plan was that the money I placed with you would be kept in easily liquidated securities. Stocks, shares, vehicles like that. Stanley said you would do that for us. Why isn’t my money easily accessible?”
Killian Toledano slid his hands off his office supplies and placed them in his lap, straightening and plastering a toothy grin on his face.
Colleen was instantly suspicious.
Toledano spread his hands like he was welcoming them to the table. “Of course! Of course, everything is just how we discussed it. There’s just a time horizon on some of the vehicles where I placed some of your investments.”
Colleen wrote down, time limit on investment vehicles?
Tristan asked him, “What kind of time horizons? These funds were supposed to be able to be liquidated at any time. That’s what we discussed.”
Toledano didn’t change his grin. “You also said that you had a three-year financial plan and wouldn’t be withdrawing it until then. My cousin, she had a real good opportunity, so I got you a cut of the action. You are going to make twice as much money with her as you would have with those chickenshit bond funds that your money was invested in.”
Colleen wrote on her notepad, Cousin?
“So get it back from your cousin,” Tristan told him.
“I would love to, you know, but she’s in a delicate situation right now.”
“She’s pregnant? What does that have to do with anything?”
“I didn’t mean she’s with child. I just meant that her business is in a delicate situation. We put the money into it, but it’s not paying off yet. Many businesses have a period of time before they become profitable. It’s all very normal business practice.”
Colleen could not stand it a second longer. “Are you a fiduciary? Are you acting as a fiduciary for the benefit of Mr. King at all times?”
Toledano looked between the two of them and answered with his eyes on Tristan, “I can act as a fiduciary.”
Colleen straightened in her chair. “What the hell does that even mean, you can act? Were you acting as his fiduciary when you loaned Mr. King’s money to your own cousin in this matter or not?”
“Well, I was acting as everybody’s fiduciary because it was a good deal for everybody.”
“I want to see the contract,” Colleen said.
Toledano smirked at her. “Why, are you an attorney? You look kind of young to be an attorney, sweetheart.”
Colleen refrained from throwing her pen at Toledano because she actually wanted to hogtie and brand him. “I’m a financial analyst.”
Okay, she was overstating her education by about two years, a bachelor’s degree, and a master’s degree, if not an MBA, but she could scare this guy. Tristan King didn’t seem to be jumping in to stop her, so she went with it. “I’m here to act as a fiduciary on Mr. King’s behalf since no one else here is. Now cough up that contract.”
Toledano began to squirm in his chair. “We didn’t draw up an official contract as such.”
“I beg your pardon?” Colleen demanded and scanned the diplomas and credentials on the wall above his head. “Is that in keeping with the standard practices of the California Department of Consumer Affairs Professional Fiduciary Bureau?”
Toledano was sputtering at this point, so Colleen kept right on going after him. She demanded, “Do you have records of where and when Mr. King’s money was transferred? Because I guarantee that we have records of when and how much was transferred to you, not to mention the contract Mr. King signed with you to put his money in conservative, easily liquidated investment vehicles.”
Dang, she hoped some of that was true.
Toledano’s sputtering increased.
When Colleen glanced back and happened to catch Tristan’s eye, he was watching her with a small, uninterpretable smile on his face.
After a few more verbal jabs and veiled threats about the professional organizations’ credentials hanging on his wall, Toledano agreed that every dime of what Tristan had invested, plus the interest that he would have earned on the bond funds, plus an inconvenience fee of an additional fifty percent of said interest would be deposited in Tristan’s bank account by the end of the day.
As they walked outside, Tristan held the car door for Colleen and then walked around to climb in the other side of the backseat.
That might’ve been overstepping her position. He might be pissed at her.
As Jian coasted into the Los Angeles traffic, Tristan began to chuckle. “Why didn’t you do that when your manager at GameShack was being a jerk to you?”
Colleen looked down at the scanty notes she had taken during the first part of the meeting. “I’m better at defending other people.”
“Just not standing up for yourself?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?” he asked.
She shrugged because every answer seemed stupid and wrong.
Tristan nodded. “We’ll have to work on that.”