“I’ll clear it up for you.” Patton’s voice is quiet anger. I hear it, but I’m not sure if our friends on the screen hear it.

  I turn to them, speaking in French. “I’m so sorry about the interruption. Martin has been dealing with some personal issues. He’s not himself today… probably needs a day or two off.”

  I am seriously flailing. I’ve never met this guy, and I don’t know what Patton would want me to say.

  The men on the screen frown at each other. Taylor says Moto-Moto in a questioning way, and then they speak to each other in a dialect I don’t understand. I can only guess it’s Malagasy. This can’t be good.

  When they turn to me again, Rickey, the first man who spoke, addresses me in English. “We’re going to need a little more time to discuss the agreement.”

  Oh, no. They’re stepping back from the deal. My chest clenches, and I know I’ve got to do something to save it. I don’t know the investors Patton mentioned, but losing this account so late in the game would not look good to anybody.

  “Ah, if you would just give me two minutes.” I’m improvising now. “We were all up late last night discussing the new policies we’re implementing. We were planning to grandfather in your deal, but we’d have to sign it today in order to do so.”

  All three men’s brows furrow, and they study me a moment. Patton’s comment about women knowing their place flickers in my mind, but I won’t let it kill my confidence.

  “What is this new policy?” Justin asks me.

  “Well, starting today, we’re implementing a ten percent finder’s fee on all new rentals, and the 24-hour premium-level security you have here for free will be an additional fifteen hundred dollars a month.” God, I’m making this up as I go. “As it stands, you’re set to save almost ten thousand dollars if we close the deal today.”

  Taylor frowns and leans back, looking over the contract. “I have not heard any mention of premium-level security. It simply says security.”

  “Yes, well…” Think fast, Rocky. “Based on client feedback, we’ve decided to offer different levels of security. Our former service will become premium, with a security guard on site at all times and regular drive-by checks from local police. From there it will go all the way down to basic, which is just the drive-by without the on-site security guard. We’ll customize it to meet clients’ needs, but as your deal stands, you’re getting the top of the line package for free.”

  Patton returns to the room, straightening his coat and doing his best to appear calm. Still, I can see the muscle moving in his jaw. I know he’s agitated.

  “Gentlemen, I’m very sorry for the interruption. Our marketing director is a frustrated stand-up comic. I hope you weren’t offended by his jokes.”

  They start to respond, but I quickly lean forward, turning my head so they can’t see my wide eyes signaling Patton. “I was just telling them about the changes we decided to make last night to our services, the levels of security and the new fees.”

  “New fees?” He’s taken aback, but I quickly continue.

  “I was telling them how we decided to waive it for them on this deal and provide our top of the line, 24-hour security at the rate we’ve already quoted. But only if we close the deal today.”

  He straightens in his chair, studying me, and I have to hand it to him. Patton is a quick study. I see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He knows I made it all up, but it’s working.

  “Yes…” He cuts his eyes from me to the screen. “I didn’t think we needed to mention these changes, since you were ready to sign. But in case there’s any hesitation, we don’t want you to miss this opportunity. It’s quite a deal.”

  Rickey lifts the documents in front of him, turning them over and scanning them again. His lips poke out, and he nods. “We like this property. We have already planned the staff and equipment to send. With these additional features…” He looks to the other two men, and their expressions are unreadable.

  My stomach is so tight, I can barely breathe. I feel like I’m going to be sick. In my mind, I’m chanting, Sign the contract… Sign it…

  Finally, he turns to us again. “We’ll go forward with the deal today. I’ll have my secretary send the signed documents over, and we’ll be on site in a week.”

  The breath I’m holding tries to burst from my lips. I want to jump up and do a little victory booty-shake.

  I don’t.

  I sit calmly, smiling like this is exactly what I expected to happen.

  Patton’s stacks the sheets in front of him. “If we have no further business, I’ll look for the contracts this afternoon.”

  We say goodbye and the screen goes dark. I exhale and fall back in my chair. “It worked.”

  The room is silent, and I dare to glance up at my boss. His poker face is still intact, but those dark eyes move from the stack on the table to me. My stomach burns with a low, simmering heat. Did I impress you?

  He stands without a word, but I can’t let him get away with zero feedback. I don’t know how to get us there, but I’ve at least got to get him talking.

  I step around my chair closer to him. “What happened back there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Is he serious? “Our uninvited guest.”

  “I’m handling it.” Pausing, his dark eyes sear into mine. “Next time you get a bright idea for handling clients, run it past me first.”

  My jaw drops, but he’s not getting away with that. “You seemed to have your hands full.”

  “You’ve been here less than two days. You’re not ready to take the lead.”

  Bastard. He can’t admit I saved the deal.

  He’s going to the door, but I’m right there with him. “Are you unhappy with the way I handled it?”

  He stops abruptly and turns, and I crash into his rock-hard chest. Strong hands grip my upper arms, steadying me and holding me back. My breath disappears, and that chemistry… that ever-present chemistry flares between us.

  I know he feels it. The firm line of his jaw moves, and his eyes roam hot over my face before he releases me. “No.”

  That’s all I get. He turns and leaves the conference room.

  The door slowly closes, and I put my hand on the back of a chair, trying to catch my breath, trying to piece together what just happened.

  Forget what I told Jerry yesterday. I’m going out with the staff tonight. I want to get to the bottom of this.

  6

  Patton

  Taron paces the room, arms crossed over his chest, pinching the front of his lips. “What the fuck, Marley? You almost lost us Madagascar.”

  I’m sitting behind my desk with my foot crossed over my knee watching him. If Marley’s high, it doesn’t matter what we say to him now. He won’t remember any of it.

  “I drove you home last night… Did you go out again?” It’s an easy question, and it’ll at least help me locate him mentally.

  He sits on my leather couch with his forearms propped on his knees, looking at the floor and not answering.

  He doesn’t have to answer. I know he did.

  Taron doesn’t sit. He paces across my office, picking up the framed photo of the four of us in Venezuela. “Do you need to go back to Oak Grove?”

  That gets his attention. “Fuck off, Taron. I’m not going back to that place.”

  Pressing against my knees, I stand and turn to the window. Forcing him into rehab doesn’t work. We’ve tried it, but I’m at the end of my ability to carry him. I can’t have him scaring off business—or insulting them… or getting mixed up in some scandal, which is a worse PR nightmare.

  Turning back, I temper my tone. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.” His voice is low now, and when he looks up at me, his blue eyes are so tired, it feels like a punch in the gut. “It’s not getting better.”

  Inhaling slowly, I nod. “You want to talk to someone?”

  “I just want to live my life. What’s left of it.”

  Taron puts the photo down and takes a halting step toward him. “That’s why you need to go back to treatment.”

  Marley pushes away from him. He’ll fight with Taron, but he’ll listen to me. I guess it goes back to the days when we were in country. I was always our leader. “You haven’t slept since Tuesday. It gets worse when you don’t sleep. You know this. I don’t have to tell you.”

  “I dream when I sleep.” He finally stands and walks over to my desk, opening the small wooden box and taking out a cigarette. I watch as he lights it up and takes a long pull. “Let’s go to AJ’s. It’s happy hour, and we could have a drink, talk about old times. It’ll be like it was.”

  My eyes cut to Taron, and his expression is stony. We’re not making any progress here, but I’m willing to try anything that might get him through this. It’s cyclical. We know what to expect. He just needs a babysitter for a little while.

  Pulling on my blazer, I loosen my tie and slip it over my head. “I think we could do that.” Rolling it slowly, I put it in my desk drawer. “Taron, can you call it a day?”

  He studies my face a beat then nods, seeming to understand what I’m doing. “Yeah. I’m waiting on a call back from Dubai, but I booked a meet and greet with Abu Dhabi next week, after the holiday.”

  Marley blinks up at him. “Holiday?”

  Taron narrows his eyes. “If you bothered with regular hours, you’d know Monday is Labor Day.”

  “Ah…” He waves us away. “Labor Day isn’t a holiday.”

  Leading them out the door, I don’t bother arguing. “Sandra? I’m out for the day. I’m expecting contracts from Rickey’s firm. Text me if they don’t arrive by five.”

  She stands behind her desk, which is directly across the corridor from my office and holds out a stack of papers. “They’re right here.”

  Taking them from her, I flip to the last page to see all three signatures. Yes. My gaze lifts to the closed door of Raquel’s office, and the self-destructive part of me wants to invite her to join us and celebrate. I don’t like eating crow, but it’s possible Taron was right about her. If we can keep everyone in his or her own lane.

  I’m the problem this time. I can’t stop thinking about her in inappropriate ways. When she stumbled into me in the conference room earlier, I didn’t want to let her go. She’s so light in my grip, I could’ve easily pulled her to me and kissed her. The realization tightens my chest and causes my heart to beat faster. I wanted to kiss her.

  Inviting her to join us is out of the question.

  “Anything else?” Sandra’s red lips curl up on one side, and she smirks like she knows everything I’m thinking.

  Normally, I’d be pissed, but Sandra started working in this office while I was still in the military. When dad retired and I took over, she fell right in line. She has never tried to go behind my back or talked about how my dad used to do things.

  It goes a long way with me.

  Passing back the contracts, I shake my head. “This was the main thing I needed. If Hastings or Key calls, text me.” Pausing, I lean closer. “It’s okay if you want to mention Madagascar is on board, and we’re meeting with Abu Dhabi next week.”

  She smiles big then. “It’s all coming together.”

  I tap my knuckles on her desk and join Taron and Marley at the elevator. Approaching them, I consider this day is the yin and the yang. Good things are happening, but fuck if the problems aren’t trying to ruin everything.

  Marley lifts a tumbler of scotch. “The three musketeers reunited.” He slams it back and winces. “Only D’Artagnan is in fucking Louisiana growing peaches.”

  Taron eases off his stool with a low groan. We’ve been at the bar two hours, and I’m on my third drink. Taron’s had one more than me, but the pain he’s feeling is stronger than the liquor.

  We’ve talked about boot camp, pranks we pulled on plebes, girls Marley sneaked into the barracks, girls Taron sneaked into the barracks. Sawyer’s insistence on being a fucking peach farmer, and how much money he’s giving up…

  “Can you handle him alone?” Taron leans heavily toward me, and I see his expression is pained. “I’ve got to head out.”

  “You okay?” The last thing I need is Taron falling apart.

  He cuts his eyes, and worry cuts through my gut. “I’m not getting into it tonight.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

  “With Raquel?” He grins, polishing off the last of his whiskey.

  I’m just relaxed enough to throw him a bone. “I’m willing to consider the possibility she might be a good hire.”

  “Ha!” He’s loud and pointing at me. “Consider it? Try believing it. She is good.”

  “I was impressed today.” Something like pride unfurls low in my stomach, which is ridiculous. “Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  I watch him go, and as he passes between the two bars, I hear a loud laugh. Lingering in the neutral space, my eyes roam around the secondary bar, and I see her. She’s standing there alone, which surprises me. She doesn’t seem like the type to go to a bar alone.

  Her head turns, and as if by force of will, her blue eyes connect with mine. Those blue eyes… I feel them in my chest, ticking my heart rate higher, drawing me to her. The fucking invisible current between us grows stronger. I flex against it, but I can’t fight it. Her eyes narrow in defiance, and it’s like a match to my simmering desire.

  She isn’t afraid of me.

  She should be afraid of me.

  7

  Raquel

  My insides were all knotted and warring after Patton left me in the conference room. On the one hand, I was pissed he couldn’t even admit the role I played in keeping Madagascar onboard. On the other hand, the way he touched me… He’s always so fiercely in control. Would it hurt to thank someone for helping him?

  Back in my office, I scoop up my phone and hit Renée’s number.

  She answers on the first ring. “Sea and Things, how can I help you?”

  I’m so giddy, it makes me laugh. “Is that how you answer your phone?”

  “What?” She focuses on our conversation. “Rocky? What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on with you? You answered your cell like it was the store phone.”

  “Did I?” She makes a little surprised noise. “We just got in a big shipment. You caught me in the middle of sorting. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “I’m great! I’m so great, I think I did it!”

  The clock ticks, and she finally asks. “Sorry, did what again?”

  “Renée! Are you paying attention to me?” I’m walking around my office, my hand crossed over my waist, replaying how it all went down in my mind. I took a big risk, and it massively paid off, whether my asshole boss wants to acknowledge it or not.

  “Yes!” She hits the word a little hard. “But you’re being so cryptic.”

  “I think I have successfully impressed Patton Fletcher.” I do a little march as I say the words. “Correction! I think I successfully knocked his socks off.”

  Renée laughs, but it sounds more like disbelief than celebration. “What did you do?”

  “You don’t believe me! I’m offended!”

  “Just tell me what happened.”

  I run through my story about the fictitious fees and security. “They were seriously quitting the deal, but I made like Sir Mix-a-Lot. I pulled up quick and retrieved it!”

  I do a little booty-shake. Renée has no idea what I’m talking about, but she’s still encouraging. “I’m very proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

  “Thanks, sis.” Dropping into my desk chair, I exhale all my emotions. “It was so shocking how Martin just burst into the meeting. I’ve never been in a situation like that before. I mean, I’ve seen them in movies and stuff, but never in real life. I was totally rattled.”

  “Is that so?” Her voice goes strangely high.

  “Yeah… Did you know him? He kept looking at me like he recognized me.” My sister and I don’t look exactly alike, but people say we have a family resemblance.

  “Ahh… yeah, I remember him.”

  “His eyes really struck me. They seemed so tired.” Turning in my chair, I look out the window, remembering. I start to get sad, but I shake it off. “Anyway, Patton was not ready to give an inch. I practically had to drag an acknowledgment out of him. And it was barely an acknowledgment, let me tell you.”

  “Well, I’m very glad for you. Now I’d better go, okay? Call again soon, okay?”

  Pressing my lips into a frown, I cut my eyes toward my phone. “Sure, sis. I’ll call later. Love you.”

  “Chin down.”

  “Right.”

  We disconnect, and I toss my phone on the desk. Whatever.

  My feet are propped on one of my drawers, and I’m basking in my second victory in two days working here. I’ll be in that old boy’s club yet, you just wait.

  Smarmy Jerry was thrilled when I told him I’d changed my mind about going to happy hour with them. “Good decision. It’s the best way to bond with your coworkers.”

  He might be right, but I have ulterior motives. I really want to know what the hell is going on with Martin, and maybe I’ll find out what the hell crawled up Patton’s butt and died.

  I might have defended him to Renée, but she’s right. He doesn’t have to act that way to be the boss. Something else is going on, and I want to know what.

  AJ’s is a massive rooftop lounge. It has two huge bars on each end, with smaller sitting areas off to the sides. It’s rectangular and modern, and the décor is all leather, chrome, and glass.

  I’m standing, wedged between Jerry and Sandra. Dean is on her other side, giving me the rundown.

  “Oh my God, girl, how cute are you in those pants.” He waves his hand over my pretty basic work outfit. “Your chic professional is on point.”

  I nod, finishing my sip of gin and tonic. “Patton said to lose the cardigan. I’m not eighty.”

  “And he is so right.” Dean shakes his head. “That man has impeccable style. He should be gay.”