“I could have picked up my own medicine.”
“We’re already short on time. They’ll wonder what’s been keeping you.”
“Scared of Sheila?”
He grinned again, looking up from his steak. “Terrified. That woman is worse than my mother.”
His steak was already half-gone, and the remaining bit didn’t have a chance. The man didn’t believe in wasting time. Mimmo appeared at my side.
“Ms. Campbell. I’ve taken the liberty of wrapping a few of our house truffles for your enjoyment later.”
How does this man know my name? I nodded my thanks and placed the small, exquisitely wrapped package into my purse.
He left, taking a handful of our plates with him. De Luca stood, shoveling a few more pieces of meat into his mouth, and then reached for my hand.
“Let’s go.”
I stood quickly and grabbed my purse. “Shouldn’t we wait for the check?”
“I have a house account. They know what to tip.” He wiped his face with the cloth napkin and tilted his head, indicating that we should leave. I allowed him to lead me out, but pulled my hand free as we approached the front doors. A doorman held the door for us, and we exited into the hot summer air.
The town car sat in front, Jeff standing by it. As he opened my door, he handed me a small plastic bag. Giving me a casual smile, he gently shut the door once I was fully inside. I peeked into the bag and pulled out a small bottle of Advil and a bottle of water. Sweet salvation. My headache jumped up and down, cheering. I twisted open the Advil bottle, popped three in my mouth and sucked down half the bottle of water.
De Luca spent the ride back to the office on the phone. I leaned back in the seat, the heavy food and wine making me sleepy. We were back in the garage before I knew it, and I glanced around before reaching for the door handle.
“Relax.” De Luca spoke from the other seat, having disconnected his call. He reached over and grabbed my knee, trying to reassure me—I think, but the connection of our bodies was a shock to my system, and I stifled a gasp.
I swatted his hand away. “If Broward finds out I—”
“Do you always do as you’re told?”
I gave him a death glare, but his demeanor didn’t waver one bit. “Yes, I typically do.”
“You should learn to bend the rules.”
“You should learn to follow them!” I retorted, smiling a bit. “Good afternoon, Mr. De Luca. Thank you for the ridiculously expensive lunch.”
“I enjoyed it.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, and opened the car door. Jeff was standing there, and I gave him a small smile and rushed to the elevators. I pressed the button and waited, glancing back at the black car. It stayed there, idling, Jeff once again in the driver’s seat. The bell dinged and the door opened. Thankfully, the elevator was empty. I entered, pressed the button for the fourth floor and leaned against the wall. I felt as though I had dodged a bullet, had skipped across glowing coals and then had tied myself securely to the tracks of an oncoming train. The bell dinged, sounding eerily like a far-off train whistle.
Eleven
Rule 2: She is mine and not yours. Remember that.
Day three of no Broward loomed ahead of me and I woke up early in nervous anticipation. Knowing full well that I was headed straight to hell, I dressed for success in a navy wrap dress that hugged my ass perfectly, and leather-and-gold Prada stilettos that had been a gift from Becca. I added a chunky gold necklace and put my hair up in a messy bun. Taking extra care with my makeup, I made sure that I looked amazing before trotting out of the house.
At 7:40 a.m. I slid into my chair, turning on my computer and checking my voice mail. One from Broward.
“Julia—this is Kent. Just checking in to see how things are going. You must have already left for the evening. I sent you a few emails—give me a call if you have any questions. I will be in court all morning tomorrow, so try me in the afternoon if you need me.”
I deleted the voice mail and stared at my computer’s opening scripts, willing them to hurry. I wanted to take care of Broward’s emails first, and then try and finish some of the legal research that I had been putting off. My phone rang.
Ancient Dorothy’s voice creaked through the phone. “Julia, you have a delivery. Is it okay if I send it up?”
I checked my watch: 7:45 a.m. Early delivery. “Yes, Dorothy. Thank you.” I assumed it was FedEx bringing an 8:00 a.m. express package. My computer finally loaded the log-in screen and I quickly entered my credentials. Scrolling through to my first email from Broward, I heard a light knock at my door.
“Julia?”
A moderately attractive man stood in my doorway in a gray suit and blue tie. He held a large arrangement of lilies and orchids. I squinted at the man, who looked familiar, and then it hit me. Billy, Ben, no—Bob. From the other night. Oh, Jesus. This is bad.
“Bob!” I tried to interject some hint of pleasure into my voice, but I think I missed the happy tone and ended up with more of a strangled croak.
“I hope it’s all right that I stopped by. I remember you saying that you interned here. I couldn’t get through on the number you gave me, and I sent you a friend request on Facebook—and I stopped by yesterday but you were out....” His rushed speech faltered and I think he realized how desperate he sounded. “I just wanted to stop by and give you these.” He took two steps forward and thrust the flowers into my desk space. The glass vase hung from his outstretched hands as if it would slip at any moment. I had no choice but to take them.
“Bob, these are beautiful. Thank you.” I buried my face in the arrangement and sniffed, trying to think of what else to say. They were beautiful, and judging by the size of the arrangement, expensive.
“Would you want to go out sometime? I know a great Italian place, just around the corner, not a far trek from here.”
“I can’t, Bob. I just got out of a bad relationship, and I’m just not ready yet.” My oldest and most faithful letdown. His face fell but he maintained his smile.
“Hey, I understand. Can I leave you my number, though? So when you’re ready...just in case you lost it before.”
I didn’t lose it, Bob. I tossed it in the trash. Similar to the way I denied your friend request.
“Of course. I’ll save it. If things change I’ll give you a call.”
His pathetic response, an face-splitting grin, made me wince inside. He came around my desk with his arms out, and I stood. Oh, great. Bob went for a kiss, but I turned my head and gave him a hug instead. We were pulling out of the hug when De Luca appeared in my doorway.
He leaned against the doorway with his arms folded, filling the entire space with his enormity. He had a dark look in his eyes, and radiated power and masculinity. His gaze went from us to the large arrangement on my desk, then back to Bob and me. “Am I interrupting something?”
Bob paled. I’d hate to see what would happen if we were dating and I was attacked on the street. He’d probably duck into the nearest Starbucks and order a scone to calm his nerves.
“No. Bob was just leaving. Bob, this is Brad De Luca. He is one of my bosses.”
Brad’s eyes locked with Bob’s, and he moved forward and shook his hand firmly. I think I saw Bob wince. My office seemed incredibly small at that moment with Bob, Brad, the ridiculous flowers and me. Bob squeaked out a hello.
“I need to speak to Julia if you both are done here.”
Bob smiled shyly at me and fled the office. I crossed my arms and stared at Brad stonily.
“What, pray tell, did you need to speak to me about that couldn’t wait?”
“Who is he?”
“Bob. He is a—”
“I know who he is. I meant who is he to you?”
Why does this man think he knows everything? “He is n
othing to me.”
“Are you dating?”
“Is that any of your business?”
“It is if he’s visiting you at work.”
“Oh, please! Don’t even pull that card.”
“Are you dating?”
“No.”
He studied me, his eyes possessively roaming down my body and up again, and I felt myself flush. Thank God I dressed up. The magnetism he put out was ridiculous. This office was way too small for the two of us.
“Come to Vegas with me this weekend,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m going to Vegas this weekend. Why don’t you come?” It was more a directive than an invitation.
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” He looked serious. And tempting.
I smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to pass.”
“Think it over. I’ll have you back safe and sound by Monday.”
“I appreciate the offer, but no.”
He raised his eyebrows and looked at me appraisingly. “No boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Think it over.” He gave me a ridiculously sexy parting smile, turned on one heel and sauntered out.
I sank down in my seat. This was way too much excitement for 8:08 a.m. I tried to focus on Broward’s first email, which was still open on my screen.
From: Kent Broward
Subject: ADMA/Bakers/Turner Development
Date: June 12 9:27:22 PM EST
To: Julia Campbell
Julia,
Attached is information for three new S corps. They need corporate documents created.
Two of these S corps—Adma LLC and Bakers Investments Properties will be JV partners on a development. Please prepare an initial draft of an operating agreement between the two. You can use the Henderstone Land JV OA as a template.
KB
I was both excited and dismayed. Excited that this seemed to be the first real legal work I had been given, dismayed that I didn’t have the experience or knowledge to complete it. Also dismayed because I had three other emails from Broward and I wasn’t sure what other nuggets of goodness those held.
The next two emails were tame by comparison, menial tasks that I would be able to quickly knock out. The last email was only two lines and gave me at least three new wrinkles.
From: Kent Broward
Subject: De Luca
Date: June 12, 2012 11:08:03 PM EST
To: Julia Campbell
Julia,
Sheila said that De Luca was speaking to you in the kitchen. Has he been bothering you? Please keep your distance.
Kent
I groaned silently. Note to self: Sheila is a rat. “Has he been bothering you?” Ummm, don’t know how to answer that. “Keep your distance”? Wow. I seem to be following that advice superbly. I marked the email as Unread and vowed to reply to him later.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I recruited/begged/bribed Beverly to help with my corporate documents, and stumbled through the operating agreement on my own. I was grinding through the legal research when I glanced at my phone and saw the time: 8:30 p.m. My stomach was growling loudly when salvation appeared at the door. De Luca stood in the doorway, pizza and a six-pack of soda in his hands. I tried not to smile but failed miserably. He beamed back at me.
“I’m not happy to see you—it’s the pizza,” I said, pushing back from my desk and rubbing my eyes.
“Come on. I already had Todd scope out the office. This whole wing has left for the night. Your dangerous secret will be safe. Let’s eat in the conference room.”
I stretched and stood up. I was barefoot, and considered putting on my heels, but then decided against it and padded after him. I yawned. “Where’s Todd?”
“I sent him home once he gave me the lay of the land.”
“Does he know you’re over here?”
“I don’t know or care. Todd is a smart guy. I’m sure he can figure it out.”
Great. Just what I need.
“I’ll eat with you because I’m starving and not finished with work, but this is the last time I’m going to have any type of interaction with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Broward is already smelling something. He sent me an email about it today.”
“Ahh, yes. I got one of those also.”
“And?”
“And what? Do I seem the type to follow Broward’s directives?”
I shrugged in response. We had entered the West Wing conference room. The fluorescent lights were in the process of warming back up, so the light was still dim. I wrestled two of the Dr Peppers from the six-pack, placing them on the table. I put the other four cans in the minifridge and grabbed a roll of paper towels. Brad sat down and flipped open the pizza box, taking two slices and spinning the open box to me. I glanced in. Half pepperoni, half meat lover’s. I grabbed a slice of each and sat down, the two of us taking up one corner of the long table. There was silence for a moment as we dug in.
He spoke first. “So, this is the last time, huh?”
I nodded in response, my mouth full of pizza.
“You really think you’ll be able to stay away from me?”
“Oh, my lord!” I groaned and looked to the ceiling in mock exasperation. “Does your ego have no bounds? As I see it, you’ve been the one who can’t stay away.” I waved a pizza crust at him to emphasize my point.
“I take an interest in all of our interns. You are the future of our company.”
“Bullshit. Are you telling me you are bringing dinner to your favorite intern, Wu?”
“I’m not attracted to Wu.”
“And you are attracted to me?”
“Of course.” He had locked his ridiculously sexy stare on me and spoken softly, but with absolute confidence and conviction. I swallowed. I wanted this man so badly it hurt. Knowing I couldn’t have him made it that much more delicious.
“Well, if this is truly our last encounter, we might as well make it count.”
“Meaning what?” I squeaked.
“I want to know about you. Let’s finish our conversation from lunch. You can ask me anything you want, as long as I have the same privilege.”
“I’m not as exciting as you are.”
He turned that over in his mind, shaking his head gently as he thought god knew what. I started the game.
“I was told you were recently divorced. True?”
“Yes.”
“Details?”
He gave me a wry glance, put his hands together on the table, looked down at them and then at me.
“I have only been married once—to my college sweetheart. We were together eleven years, married for seven of those. Hillary is a great girl, but we were too different, too incompatible. I think we both realized our mistake early on. But we stayed together and miserable, hoping...I don’t know...that something would change. Nothing changed, and we separated.”
“Who represented her in the divorce?”
He smiled slightly. “No one. We both did it unrepresented.”
“That’s a little unfair.”
“It would have been if I hadn’t given her everything. There is nothing more she could have gotten. I’d say it was extremely fair.”
“Why did you give her everything?”
“I’ve seen divorce pull too many people to shreds. It turns people into horrible things, gets them to the point where they hate themselves as much as their exes. It happened to my parents, and is one of the reasons I went into this business. I make sure that I am the animal, the horrible one. I don’t want them to become that person. This way the couple stays civil and a fair arrangement is made.” He shrugged, taking ano
ther slice of pizza. “At least that’s the plan. It often goes astray.”
“I’m not buying the nobility you paint divorce attorneys with.”
“Hey, it normally works for chicks at the bar.” He grinned.
“Were you faithful?”
“To Hillary? No. I had an affair that lasted the last year of our marriage. It ended before my divorce, but was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“She found out?”
“I didn’t make much of an effort to hide it. I think I wanted to get caught, wanted a way out. She overlooked it for a while, until my affair started leaving her voice mails describing our indiscretions.”
“Why?”
“She wanted a relationship. My wife got in the way of that. I tried to break it off and she got mad, thought that she might have a chance if Hillary dumped me. Can we discuss something else?”
“Why did your parents divorce?”
His expression became even more pained. I was obviously choosing the wrong topics. “She disagreed with my father’s business practices, and it divided them. She eventually left us to be with a man she felt was more suited to her moral compass.”
“Us?” At his confused look I tried again. “You said she left us.”
“Children were a nonnegotiable in my father’s eyes. Family loyalty is of utmost importance to him. She knew that by leaving him, she would be leaving us, as well. I haven’t seen her since then.”
“Why didn’t you reach out to her as an adult?”
“I felt abandoned as a child. As my father’s son, she regarded me with the same level of disdain. It pissed me off as a teenager, but as an adult, I appreciate the unintended effect it had on my life.”
“And what effect is that?”
“I am driven by the need to always be the best. Whatever insecurities I got from her dismissal have helped me strive for, and attain, success. In both my personal and professional life.”
“I don’t see screwing strangers as a successful personal life.”