The Slade Brothers (Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection) Page 2

  “Okay, thank you, Mary.”

  She nods and rushes out the door, closing it behind her.

  Now that the room is empty and I’m alone, I take a few minutes to get myself prepared. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling a sense of calm settle over me as I do so. I close my eyes and repeat the process. I can feel my heart slow to a steady rate as my breathing evens out. My eyes pop open and I begin straightening my gray slacks and matching blazer. I turn to face the mirror, fluffing my blonde hair that’s curled to perfection. My green eyes are wide with fear, but sparkling with excitement. Lastly, I pull out my tube of MAC lipstick and apply a fresh layer. I want to make sure I look my best when I accept my new position.

  As I’m walking out the door, a feeling of doom settles over me. What if I’m not getting a promotion? What if I’m actually getting fired? I shake my head and roll my eyes at myself. No way am I getting fired. I’ve always met and exceeded the goals and expectations set for me by the company. I’ve never lost a case for the firm.

  I come to a stop at the elevator and push the button, waiting for the car to return. I look around and find Jeremy standing behind the window in his office. His dark eyes are trained on me and he’s scowling. Maybe he’s heard the same rumor about my promotion. That would definitely cause him to look at me with annoyance and disgust.

  The elevator dings and the doors open, giving me little to no time to think about Jeremy and his dirty looks. Instead, I step in and hit the button for the top floor. Riding up, my hands begin to shake and my heart rate spikes again. The calm, quiet moment from my office has worn off. As the elevator comes to a stop, I’m hit with nausea. I’ve been so excited about the possible promotion that I didn’t stop to think about what this could mean. Moving east. Surrounding myself with nothing but dirt, manure, and mountain ranges. No more mid-morning shopping at Gucci. Bye-bye 10 different coffee shops. I feel like I’ll be trading in my Louis Vuittons and fancy dinners for boots and mud wrestling competitions.

  The doors in front of me open, leaving me frozen in fear as I lock eyes with the administrative assistant sitting in wait. All I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears. I can literally hear the blood rushing my body. I can feel my hair growing and my scalp tingling as each passing second ticks away as a reminder of how long I’ve been standing here. This poor woman probably thinks I’m having a stroke. I hear her clear her throat, but even that doesn’t break me free from this fierce panic attack. The elevator dings and the doors begin to close with me still inside.

  Finally, I react. I hold my hand out, causing the doors to open as I force myself to step out. As I walk toward her desk, she watches me like someone would look at a flight-risk bride on the day of her wedding. I tell myself that just because I’m being offered this position doesn’t mean I have to take it. I can turn it down. I tell myself to just go in there and see what Mr. Mason has to say. This finally settles my nerves enough that I can speak when I come to a stop at her desk.

  “My assistant told me that Mr. Mason was asking for me,” I manage to stutter out.

  “Ms. Teller, I presume?” she replies with a lift of one arched eyebrow.

  I nod and swallow down the excess saliva in my mouth. “Yes.”

  “Please have a seat and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.” She motions toward a line of chairs pushed against the wall. I turn and have a seat as I hear her talking softly behind me. When I sit and am facing her again, I see her hang up the phone as her eyes lock on mine.

  “You know, he really isn’t as scary as most people believe,” she says, trying to reassure me.

  I offer a weak smile. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  She peers over the glasses sliding halfway down her nose. “Only a little.”

  I want to ask for some tips, but the office door opens and Mr. Mason comes into view. “Thank you, Stella. Ms. Teller?” He motions me toward his office.

  I stand and quickly walk across the floor. His cologne washes over me as I step past him. It’s thick and heavy and soothing in a weird way.

  He closes the door behind us. “Please, have a seat.” He moves around me to take his place behind his desk. His dark hair is combed back perfectly, and his blue eyes are shining bright. He’s wearing a slight smile, making me a little more certain that I’m not being fired. I mean, what kind of psycho smiles when they’re about to fire someone?

  “I’m sorry we’re only just now getting around to having a sit-down meeting, Ms. Teller. I usually like to have monthly one-on-ones with our top lawyers long before this, but I’ve been extremely busy these last few months.”

  I smile politely. “No worries, Mr. Mason. I completely understand.” I surprise myself with how even and controlled my voice sounds. I’m usually not a nervous person, but today, everything feels off.

  “Let’s get straight to the point, yes?” he asks, clasping his hands together on top of his desk.

  I nod and cross my legs as I lean forward slightly. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting for whatever news he’s going to break that could potentially change my life forever.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard talk about our Colorado firm.”

  “I’ve heard a little, but nothing at the same time,” I say, not wanting to reveal what I’ve heard about the rumor floating around the office.

  “Well, John Burns, our top lawyer in Colorado, is retiring, and we’re needing to fill that spot. This branch of the firm has plenty of clients—ranging from your typical small business owner to your everyday, run-of-the-mill nobody. But by far, our top client there is the Slade family. They own the second-largest brewery in North America, with yearly profits in the hundreds of millions. We want you to run it and take over their account. Of course they have their own internal counsel but we need you to handle some concerns they have locally—a neutral party so to speak.”

  My mouth drops open, finally hearing these words from him. “I . . . I don’t understand. Run it? Like the entire account? Why me?”

  He sits back in his leather chair. “You’re a top lawyer here, and you out-bill and outperform your peers by a mile. You’re young and have fresh ideas. You’re beautiful—the perfect type to get the attention of Drake Slade. You’ve proved yourself time and time again. From looking at your credentials, I have no doubt you’ll be able to complete this job to our satisfaction.”

  “Thank you. That means everything coming from you. But I’m curious—is this a permanent relocation situation? I mean, sure, I’ll get to manage a branch of the firm and one of the largest clients, but then what? I’ll take on this client for how long?”

  “We’re thinking a year,” he replies.

  “Okay, so I’ll manage this account for a year, and uproot my life by moving. And then when the year is up, I’ll just come back here and do what I’m doing now? Is this a promotion? I don’t mean to speak out of turn here, but you should know I have my mind set on partner at this Los Angeles branch.” I have no idea where I’ve gotten the courage to speak my mind like this, especially to Mr. Mason himself, but it’s true. Why should I move for a year only to come back to the same old thing?

  He seems surprised, if not a little annoyed. “Most people in the office would jump at this opportunity,” he points out.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Mason, and please forgive my bluntness, but why? Why uproot and move for a year only to come back to the exact same thing? I mean, are you saying the salary and the office will be the same—no perks, nothing?”

  He chuckles deeply under his breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Teller. Reminds me of when I was your age. A real bulldog. Tell me,” he sits up, placing his elbows on the desk, “what is it that you want?”

  I have no idea what I want. I haven’t thought this far. But here goes nothing. “Well, sir, for starters, I’ll need a company car for the journey.”

  “Of course, that’s standard,” he agrees.

  “I’ll need a place to stay once I get there. I mean, expecting me to pay there while I’m still paying rent here wouldn’t work—and I can’t lose my current place if I want to move back to Los Angeles. I spent years on their waiting list and won’t go through that again.”

  He smiles and nods.

  “And if I’m going to be moving, I’m going to need something to sweeten the pot and make it worth my while. I want a 20 percent raise in my salary.”

  He pauses at this for a moment. “Done,” he finally states.

  “And when I come back, I want a bigger office, an expense account, and my own parking spot, because if I’m making more money, I’ll be buying a car. And lastly, I want a little more power around here. I’m not asking to become partner or have my name on the building tomorrow, but I want more than what I have now, which is basically nothing more than my name on a door. Right now, I’m just another lawyer here, Mr. Mason, but I’m going to dedicate my life to this firm. I’m not looking for a free meal ticket; I’ll work my fingers to the bone to accomplish my—and your—goals for this firm.”

  His eyes dart around the room as he thinks things over. “Next year, Gary Wallace will be retiring. He has an office one floor down from here—four up from your current floor. If things go well in Colorado, you can have his office.”

  I can have Mr. Wallace’s office? I’ve only met him a few times, but even I know he’s untouchable here. He actually has a lot of pull when it comes to important business matters. Jeremy will never be able to touch me then.

  I smile and stand, holding out my hand to shake. “I accept the position. Thank you, Mr. Mason.”

  He smiles and stands, shaking my hand. “Ms. Teller?”

  “Yes?”

  “Not to rush you into anything, but we’ll need you on the road first thing Monday morning. That only gives you th
e weekend to get your affairs in order.”

  That does put a rush on things, but for the newfound perks, I can do it. “That’s completely understandable, Mr. Mason. I’ll head down to my office and start packing now. Thank you again for this opportunity, sir.” I turn and head for the door. I place my hand on the handle, but turn to him before exiting. “I expect your assistant will write up the terms we’ve agreed to and have the contract in my office by the end of the day?”

  He laughs but nods his head as he runs his hand across his jaw. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less when working in an office full of lawyers.”

  I laugh nervously to myself as I step out, closing the door behind me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and the butterflies dancing around wildly in my belly. I pause for a brief moment, letting myself absorb it all as I calm down. His assistant turns to look at me from over her shoulder with a wide smile.

  “Told ya,” she says with a wink.

  I laugh. “I guess you were right after all.”

  “He’s really not as scary as everyone thinks.”

  “Thanks again. Have a good day,” I say, stepping toward the elevators as she picks up her phone to make a call.

  When I get off on my floor, the whole office is standing and cheering for me. Several people huddle around me, telling me “congratulations” and wishing me the best. All but Jeremy, that is. I look over at his office and find him behind the glass, checking out what’s happening. He frowns at me before closing the blinds.

  “Looks like we’ll have to wait a little longer for that date, after all,” Gavin says, coming up to me and pulling me in for a hug.

  I smile, excited that everyone is so happy for me. We’ve really gotten close over the last year. “Not at all. Let’s do lunch,” I say, pulling away from his hug.

  “Really?” he asks, a little unsure.

  I nod, smile still in place. “Of course. I agreed to a date. Let’s do it.”

  I spend my morning packing up my office. Before I know it, it’s going on noon and Gavin is knocking on my door.

  “Come in,” I say, looking over my shoulder.

  “I was thinking we could hit up that new Italian joint. Unlimited breadsticks,” he says around a smile.

  I laugh. Just the thought of unlimited breadsticks is funny to me. I haven’t eaten bread or pasta in years. “Sounds perfect,” I agree, planning on sticking with a celebratory glass of wine and a salad.

  Gavin leads me down to the parking garage and over to his Mercedes. He opens the passenger side door and motions for me to slide inside. Within minutes, we’re zooming through traffic on the crowded-but-moving California freeway.

  “So, Colorado, huh?” he asks as he weaves in and out of traffic.

  I laugh. “Yeah, I never pictured myself wearing muddy boots and chewing on a piece of straw, but here we are.”

  “How long are you going to be gone?”

  “A year,” I reply.

  “Wow, a whole year, huh? Now I’m suddenly hoping this date doesn’t go well.” He offers up a teasing smile. “I mean, not that I don’t like you or anything,” he continues.

  I laugh out loud. “No, I understand. It would suck to have a great time only to put things on hold for a year. But hey, we might figure out that we can’t stand each other. So, here’s hoping,” I say.

  He laughs at my stupid joke and the conversation continues its effortless flow as we pull into the parking lot at the restaurant.

  When we’re seated, we start our meal with water and breadsticks. He immediately starts digging in, but I choose to sip my water.

  “Not big on garlic?” he asks, raising a brow.

  “I try to stay away from carbs. I spend way too many hours in spin class to throw it all away on a piece of bread.”

  He shakes his head. “With a figure like yours, I wouldn’t worry about one little piece of bread.” His eyes fall down and slowly make their way back up to my eyes. I feel embarrassment wash over me, staining my cheeks.

  He must pick up on it because he says, “What? I can’t be the first person to ever say you have a nice body.”

  I shake my head. “No, of course not, but it’s usually not during a lunch date. Maybe a drunken night in a club or something, but not in the middle of the day.”

  He sits back and shrugs. “Well, it’s true. You, Celeste Teller, are absolutely gorgeous, and I consider myself lucky to be on this lunch date with you.”

  A smile forms on its own at his words. It really does suck that we waited so long for this date. Gavin is definitely the type of guy I usually go for. He’s good-looking, he’s always dressed nicely, he has a good job, and he has social standing—not that that’s all I look for. He’s one of the good ones, and I can’t believe someone hasn’t locked him down already.

  I lean forward, running my finger around the rim of my glass. “How are you still single?”

  He chuckles. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  I sit back with a shrug. “I think a lot of guys I meet are intimidated by me. I mean, I’m a lawyer for one. Most guys just think that I’m snobby and uptight—just some rich bitch.” I say it like I’m indifferent. I’ve heard these things all my life. I wasn’t raised poor. I went to prep school and understand that I have privilege—more than most. “Most powerful men want a woman they can make a stay-at-home wife—someone they can break out for corporate parties and in front of cameras to prove they’re not sleeping around with their assistants.”

  He laughs loud and hard. “Lucky for you, I’m not that type of guy.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want marriage and kids. I’m far too selfish for that. I just want someone who’s okay with keeping our lives separate—someone who wants the same things out of life.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, taking another sip of wine.

  “Fun. Experiences. I want to work my job, putting in 70+ hours a week without someone expecting me home for dinner at the same time every night. I want to take lavish vacations and not worry about kids. I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. I work hard. I play hard.”

  Our eyes lock from across the table. “It sounds like we’re made for each other.”

  We eat the rest of our lunch while talking about whatever comes up. I discover that Gavin is an only child who also went to prep school. His mother and father are still happily together, but can usually be found spending their retirement on beaches around the world or on their private yacht. He’s mostly on his own, just like I am. While I have family, they’re usually doing their own thing. We only ever come together on holidays or special occasions like my parents’ anniversary, when they have a massive party only the best people are invited to. It’s always the biggest and most lavish event of the season.

  Gavin and I talk all the way back to the office. When he pulls into the parking garage, he opens my door and takes my hand, helping me out. The moment I have both feet planted on the concrete, he pulls me against his chest where his lips press against mine. The kiss is soft and slow, gaining intensity. My heart pounds in my chest and butterflies tickle my stomach when his hand squeezes my hip. His tongue is sweet like wine and his rich scent washes over me, causing my eyes to flutter closed. The way he kisses, it’s strong, but not too strong. It’s enough to let me know he means the emotion behind the kiss, but not so intense that he’ll be trying to press me against the hood of his sports car.

  The kiss slows and breaks away. Our eyes lock and he lets out a long breath. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to wait a whole year to do that again.”

  A silent laugh escapes my lips in a puff of air. “Weren’t we supposed to find the things we hated about each other?”

  He chuckles. “I tried, but I couldn’t find anything. You were put here just to keep me humble.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Just a reminder that I can’t have everything I want, no matter how much money I have,” he says, pulling away.

  Gavin walks me back up to the office and we promise to keep in touch over the next year. I finish packing up my office and decide to leave early for the day to get a jump-start on packing my belongings at home. But before I leave, I find the contract on my desk as Mr. Mason promised, along with a set of keys. I pick them up and smile before signing the document and handing it off to Mary.