Double Dare
An erotic romance
Saskia Walker
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Saskia Walker
Discover other titles by Saskia Walker at Smashwords.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Please note: this book is for sale to adults only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.
Cover image by Refat
Cover design by Mark Walker
Praise for Double Dare
"I Double Dare you to go out and get this book! It will strike such a deep sensual reaction in you that you will definitely need relief. This is more than just an evocative erotic romance, it's a story of sensual exploration between soul mates. What woman doesn’t dream of that? I hated for the story to end. It was beautiful, stirring, solid writing and I can’t wait for more." A Romance Review
"This is a beautiful story of heart warming emotion and sizzling sex... From the emotional interactions of the characters to all of the heart stopping sex, this book is a brilliant romance that has definitely earned a place on my keeper shelf." Just Erotic Romance Reviews
"Double Dare is an awesome tale and keeps the reader hooked from the first page to the last. Erotic doesn’t begin to describe this tale and the heat will send you running for a cold shower and make sure to keep plenty of ice handy." Romance Junkies
"These two characters are a perfect match and the combustible love scenes throughout the book serve to underscore their compatibility. I also enjoyed the unique flavor that Saskia Walker, as an English writer, adds to all of her books." Fallen Angel Reviews
Back cover copy:
Two hearts entangled in a steamy affair and a truth or dare game brought about by a mutual desire for erotic discovery.
Investment broker Abigail Douglas has got it all, but Abby—the woman—longs for a secret affair, a playmate who knows nothing about her high-powered business world, and Zac Bordino might just be the man. He's mysterious and sexy—just right for Abby's walk on the wild side—but very soon she finds that she wants more, and his mysterious, evasive nature makes her curious. Is there more to this sexy, entrepreneurial club owner than meets the eye? And why does she suddenly feel as if her every move is being watched?
Zac Bordino is perplexed when he realizes that the woman managing his business investments is the same woman he's having an affair with. She's pretending to be a little nobody out for a good time, and because she's a red hot number he plays along, cautiously observing her to get to the truth. From high-powered offices in London to pulse-pounding nightclubs in Paris, they find an insatiably perfect match in business and in pleasure. But when Zac begins to fall for Abby, he has to decide whether to reveal the secret link between them, or try to win her heart first.
Please note: this novel has been previously published with an alternative cover.
Dedication:
For Barbara, who encouraged me to write, and for my real life hero, Mark, who dared me to live my dream and is right there with me every step of the way.
Chapter One
"Coming through, hold the doors." Abigail Douglas clutched her take-out lunch packages to her chest and made a dash for the elevator.
An arm shot out, one strong hand halting the movement of the stainless steel doors. She ducked under it, noting as she did the rolled up white linen shirtsleeve and the muscular male forearm.
She quickly counted three occupants, a couple, and the man who'd halted the doors for her. "Thanks." She turned on her heel quickly as the heavy doors shut behind her.
Bright blue eyes met hers, and a wolfish smile. "Any time."
She looked the man over and her body switched all systems to red alert. She'd already been on amber alert—it was a sweltering August day and heat did bad things to her. Men weren't safe from her scrutiny. Especially gorgeous ones with wolfish smiles. Tall and lean, with black hair and startling azure eyes. A document dispatch package rested in one of his hands.
As the elevator moved, she picked a napkin out of the lunch bags and fluttered it in her hand in a futile attempt to stir the air.
Reflected in the shiny surface of the doors she could make out the couple at her side, wobbly but distinct. A suited man, flirting with a bubbly blonde. He was running his fingers over her back whilst whispering in her ear. The blonde giggled in response and shuffled on her high heels, pinning him up against the wall of the elevator.
Abby glanced back at the guy by the door. He caught her eye. He was half smiling to himself.
She glanced away, then back.
He didn't falter under her stare, but then nodded back toward the couple to her right.
The blonde was leaning in against her man, nuzzling his ear with her mouth. He was gone on it, his face contorted with pleasure. His hands clutched at her bottom, riding her dress up. He had a handful of it in his greedy paws as he fondled her behind. The tops of her lacey stockings were on display as a result, her buttocks peeping out below the hemline too.
Abby stifled a laugh then looked back at the wolf-smile on the guy's face. His eyes were narrowed while he watched her, watching them. Curiosity stirred inside her, and arousal. They shared the silent joke. He'd made an intimate connection with her. More than that, there was a contained sexuality about him that aroused a deep response. A pulse charged through her body and began a slow throbbing between her thighs. It was a direct response, a need: she wanted him.
She barely registered the ping of the elevator doors. It was her floor. She gathered herself, shoving the napkin back in the bag.
He rose up to his full height and nodded as she passed.
What a hunk. Dangerous looking too. Wouldn't some sexy leisure time with him be something? She shook her head as she walked across the plushly carpeted landing and through the heavy glass door of the Robertson Corporation offices.
As she waited to hear the familiar sound of the door whooshing shut behind her, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, awareness darting over her body. She turned back just in time to see the doors whoosh closed behind another body. The guy from the elevator was standing directly behind her.
Up close, he was devastating. She was tall, but he was taller still. Those startling bright blue eyes of his contrasted with his darker looks, black hair and lashes to die for. His nose was a little over long, not entirely straight, and his lips were firm and passionate. Hooded eyes measured her reaction, his brow drawn down as he looked at her—an urban predator, his presence impacting on all her senses as he stalked in her wake.
He's a man and you're horny. Get over it. She took a deep breath and gave him a professional smile. "Can I help?"
"Documents for Tom Robertson." He gestured with the package in his hand.
"Right, of course, come in." Glancing over at the front desk she saw that Suzanne, the receptionist, was busy on the phone. She stepped behind the desk, set down the lunch bags and put out her hand.
He passed her the package.
She noticed his poise. Even dressed casually in faded jeans and a soft, white linen shirt he made an impact. The shirt fell open around his neck, revealing the elegant line of his lean throat and collarbone, as well as the taut muscle of his upper chest. His hair was thick and black. She wondered what it would feel like under her hands.
"You'll need a signature," she managed.
His eyes lit. "Yes. Indeed." He felt around in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, glancing at it.
She scrabbled on the desk for a pen. Suzanne put one in her hand without breaking her conversation. Glancing down at her, Abby could see Suzanne watched with amusement.
He put the piece of paper on the desk, pointing. "Just sign over that one, the last client signed in the wrong place." His voice had a deep, resonant timbre, as if he were suggesting an illicit rendezvous rather than asking for a signature. It ran over her body like silk over naked skin, making her prickle with awareness. She could collect packages from him all day long.
She signed and passed it back.
"Anything I can help you two with?" Suzanne turned to give them her full attention, once her call was over.
"Thanks, Suz, we're fine." She smiled apologetically at the guy. "She's training me in, I'm new on reception."
Suzanne chuckled at the comment, but didn't contradict it. "Got anything else for us or is that it?"
"That's it, no...wait." He dipped his hand into his back pocket again.
Abby watched, suddenly aware of her fingers and how they might feel dipping into that pocket for him.
He put a couple of business cards down on the desk, black, with a silver hologram image of an eye. "It's a new venue, over in Camden. I recommend it."
Abby picked up one of the cards, passing the other to Suzanne. She felt as if she'd been given a calling card by a magician. When she moved it, the hologram eye winked.
The Hub : Theater : Gallery : Music : Happenings
Location details, contacts and web addresses were scrolled beneath.
Suzanne grinned and popped the card into the pocket on her shirt. "Thanks. Personal recommendations for party time are always welcome."
The courier saluted, pocketed his receipt and with one last glance at Abby, sauntered back out onto the landing. After he hit the elevator call button he stood to one side, where he glanced back at them from under those hooded eyes of his.
Sex on a stick.
Abby pulled herself together and gestured at Suzanne, pointing at her lunch bag, trying to regain some semblance of normality. "Here you go."
"Thanks," Suzanne mumbled, reaching into the bag for the food, not moving her gaze from the view.
"No problem," Abby replied, also unable to force herself to look away.
"Now I know why you're always smiling, Suz," she whispered, "being out here on reception duty is so entertaining."
Suzanne shook her head. "They're not all like him, believe me."
"Shame."
The elevator doors opened. He saluted them one last time before stepping inside.
"He was interested in you."
Abby smiled. "You think?"
"Absolutely."
"I wouldn't turn down the chance to check him out." She watched as the doors slid shut and the numbers on the overhead panel began to descend. "But guys like that always do a runner when they find out what I do for a living. Most men can't cope with a woman who's an investment advisor, unless they're in the high finance business themselves."
"I can see how that might happen." Suzanne nodded, ruffling her curly hair in her hands. It immediately fell back into place.
Abby smiled. If she'd done that, her hair would be a tangled mess and she'd look like the wicked witch of the west.
"Is that why you let him think you were a receptionist?" Suzanne added.
Abby shrugged. "It just kind of happened, but I have been known to tell the odd white lie when I'm on the prowl. It's just easier."
She glanced up as she unwrapped her stuffed ciabatta. "You know, I think that shows a human side."
Abby quirked a brow. "Why?"
"You don't get caught up in the image of all this like the rest of them." Suzanne gestured around the plush offices. "They all love that they are so high powered. You play it down. And you're the only one who offers to get me some lunch when you go for yours, did you know that?"
Abby shook her head. It hadn't even occurred to her. "It's easy to get caught up in it. Working in finance at this level can become all consuming. I love the buzz, but I don't want it to be the be-all, you know." She winked and looked back at the shiny elevator doors. "I wonder if he rides a motorcycle."
Suzanne's eyes rounded. "You mean does he have a big throbbing engine between his legs?"
"Oh please." Abby shut her eyes for a moment, savoring the image that leapt to mind. She laughed and snatched up her lunch bag. "You are so bad."
Suzanne grinned as Abby set off down the corridor, gesticulating with the stuffed ciabatta, her curly blonde hair bouncing. "He wanted you, he'll be thinking about you while he's riding his big throbbing engine."
Abby couldn't help laughing.
Inside her office she propped the calling card against her monitor. Opening her takeout bag, she set her lunch down on her desk then stepped behind it and looked out the window. The view never failed to inspire her—the beautiful façade of the City of London—pristine glass towers that cloaked the interior mechanisms of power and wealth, toil and corruption. A tremor of excitement passed over her, part business, and part pleasure.
She sat down and glanced at the array of computer screens lined up on her desk, stabbing her fork at her chargrilled chicken salad. The words and figures flitted across the screen, unseen. She was as restless and alert as a prowling lioness during the mating season. The August heat always hit her this way and either some action or a cold shower was in order.
She picked up her coffee and blew across the swirling black liquid. It made her think about black satin sheets being rumpled across a bed. She smiled. She saw sex everywhere, but that was no revelation. It was everywhere, and besides she did think about it a lot, she wasn't about to deny that. Especially right then. She wanted to know what Wolf-smile looked like naked, preferably over her while they had hot, dirty sex.
She pushed the lunch debris away and crossed her legs high on the thigh—an attempt to crush the insistent pulse point that was pounding there, which didn't help—returning her attention to her work. She checked the latest FTSE index feed and the BBC 24-hour news channel. That was her anchor, even more so than the FTSE. Her tactic was to watch the news as closely as the FTSE index. Share prices were led by world events. She made many a quick maneuver, salvaging potential losses and earning quick, successive gains, on the basis of world events. As she scanned updating news, an instant message popped up on her laptop. It was from her teammate, Ed.
Ed: e-mail from Tom. What do you think?
Abby scanned her mail and saw the message. It announced an urgent team meeting the next morning to discuss project control. In the investment broker business imminent change was regular, expected and greeted with enthusiasm. They worked in a fast-paced environment, one that looked for winners to back and took no passengers for the ride to the prize.
Ab: And?
Ed: Rumor is I'm going over to the Pascal account.
Ab: You'd like that.
If he was right about the change it was something Ed had been working towards. A big meaty project, international. He and Abby had been functioning as a team for the past few months, taking up new projects, start-ups, and the management of established portfolios.
Ed: You are the obvious person to take over the Ashburn portfolio.
She nodded as she contemplated the thought. If he were right, it would be a good chance for her to flex her business muscles.
Ab: Maybe...
The door sprang open and Ed walked into the room. "I'd put money on it."
She smiled, glancing over his broad shoulders as he strode toward her. Ed had rowed for his team at college. She often imagined herself the Cox, shouting orders to them while watching their strong, supple bodies heaving over the oars.
He shook his head as he looked at her. "It's a miracle Tom Robertson's making any bloody money at all with a gorgeous woman like you on site."
She looked up at his brown eyes and neatly cropped hair. Ed was smart, sophisticated, and a real stud.
"Distracting a male member of the team is considered a criminal offence in some companies," he teased.
She lifted one eyebrow. "Are you keeping a list of my bad behavior?"
"You never know, I might need to blackmail you one day."
She chuckled. He was a charmer—the proverbial city-boy stud—pure testosterone, be it in the office on the rugby pitch or between the sheets.
Was that what she wanted though? No, something darker, something...intimate and sexy. A secret affair with someone who didn't know about her job and the world that went with it. Her thoughts went back to the courier and a flame ran the length of her, from clit to throat, melting everywhere in between.
"You know, Abby, I'd give up all the other women I'm shagging, just for you."
She chuckled at his remark. It was familiar territory. He'd told her that if she ever wanted a good lay, he was there for her. They'd been sexually involved for a while, but nothing permanent came of it and they'd slipped back to being good friends. That meant a lot to her.
"I'm serious." He did look serious, but she didn't think of him that way.
"I thought you came in here to talk business."
He winked. "I did, but I do like to remind you what you're missing out on."
"I hadn't forgotten. I just value your friendship too much to risk it."
He nodded. "I know. If you change your mind, I'm here for you."
They chatted about the possible reshuffle but when he'd gone and she returned to her current market report, a doubt niggled at her. Some women would kill to get a man like Ed suggesting a proper relationship, but she loved him as a friend, no more. Was she too demanding of life—a life that was already full? She hoped not, she tried not to be, but she often doubted herself at moments like this. She had a great career in London, her own home, good friends. It was a wonderful life, but she craved something else. Mystery, something wild and dangerous. Something that challenged her in a different way. She'd give it all up—career, money, the lot—for that: a walk on the wild side.
She reached over to where she'd perched the business card from the courier. The hologram winked, like an eye watching her, beckoning. At the back of her mind a little voice began to chant.
I dare you, Abby. I dare you.
* * * *
Zachary Bordino eased his Mercedes SLR down a gear and took the next exit off the London ring road. He'd passed into Surrey, where the commuter belt merged with the countryside. It was green and calm, the August heat mellowing out in the more tranquil setting. The city had been uncomfortably hot, the pavements sizzling.
Sizzling. The word ran back and forth through his thoughts, returning him to the image of the sexy receptionist he'd had the lucky chance to encounter earlier that day at the Robertson Corporation. The way her glance had sidled over to him as she walked into the elevator had brought out all his hunting instincts. She was intriguing. He'd sensed a wild streak in her, just beneath the surface, and it caught his interest immediately. She was attractive too, in an unusual, bohemian way. Pale skin and amber eyes, dark hair shot through with red—hair that needed to be tamed. Her body was curvy but lithe, blatantly sexy in the way she walked and moved. She'd taken the business card for The Hub. He wondered if she'd find her way over.
Who'd have guessed the chore would turn out to be so interesting? At first he'd been nonplussed when his mother requested he deliver papers on her behalf, but he soon forgot that, thanks to the receptionist he'd had the pleasure to deliver them to. Her direct gaze had been filled with blatant appraisal, as if she was scoring him on his potential sexual performance when she looked him over, and that alone made his blood roar. She was one hot woman.
He pulled the car on to the gravel driveway of his parents' home and took off his shades, dropping them on the passenger seat as he got out of the car. Instead of going to the front door, he walked further down the driveway. Reaching over the fence, he unlatched the gate and stepped inside, catching sight of his mother on the patio as he did so.
She was carrying a tray of refreshments over to a table in the shady corner of the patio, beneath the trellis laden with trailing honeysuckle and bougainvillea plants. Hearing the dogs friendly barking she squinted over and lifted her glasses in one hand, peering through them without actually putting them on.
"Vain as ever," he murmured to himself as he returned her wave. Strolling over, the hounds at his heels, he put his hands out to embrace her.
She hugged him, petite and fair against him, although they shared the same blue eyes and inquisitive minds.
"Mother, you look more beautiful than ever." He rested a kiss on her forehead.
She dismissed his remark with a wave of her hand, but beamed, nevertheless. Smoothing down her perfectly smooth, silver-gray bob, she gestured at the seat next to her own.
"You're the perfect English gentlemen, despite the dash of Greek blood you have inherited from Dimitri."
"Just a dash?" He gave her a quizzical glance as he took his seat. "You're after something. When you don't need me you tell me I'm his offspring." He already knew she was after something when he'd had to play courier on her behalf.
"Nonsense, I wanted to see you. Boredom is sending me doolally. This early retirement business can drive a person mad."
He tutted, reached over and held her by one slim shoulder as he looked her over. "The rest is doing you good. You look stronger than you have in a long while."
She shrugged from his grasp, drawing his attention to the refreshments. Zac eyed her watchfully. She hated to admit she wasn't as strong as she used to be, but he was relieved to see her with more color in her cheeks than she'd had this past year. She'd been a fit woman all her life until the previous year, when she'd had a mild stroke and her lifestyle had come under severe scrutiny.
"Did you manage to deliver that little package for me?"
"I did. And I hope you have a good reason for sending me with documents the courier could have taken directly himself."
"What did you think of the place?" She sipped her drink, feigning nonchalance.
"The Robertson Corporation?"
"Yes."
"They have a very attractive receptionist."
"Zachary!"
He rested back in his chair and chuckled. "I assume it's the company you've hired to oversee the Ashburn investments?"
She nodded.
"I checked them out online before I went over. They have an impeccable reputation. I'm sure you knew that when you hired them. Just relax."
"I'd be able to relax if you helped me with my work." The way she spoke about the company as if she was still at the helm was such a giveaway.
Zac sipped his drink, making her wait. "I'm well aware that you plan to carry on by hook, crook or subterfuge." He smiled at her benevolently.
Adrianna let out a dismissive sound then rested her perfectly manicured hands together in a contemplative pose. "You are more observant than your father, I'll give you that."
"And less easy to influence?"
"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose it's an admirable quality, even if does make my life more difficult." She shuffled in her chair. "Zachary, darling, I realize I made a mistake not encouraging you to get involved in the family business earlier, but I thought your father was right and you should establish your own interests first."
"And I agreed with that."
She nodded impatiently. "You've created a little niche of your own in the property business now, but it takes up more time than it should."
"Time you could use elsewhere, I suppose?"
"Why you have to get so involved with each and every aspect of it is beyond me. Why can't you maintain some distance?"
Zac chuckled. His mother portrayed herself as the ultimate business paragon. He'd learned from her example, but had gone his own way. He liked to be out there in the thick of it. He also blamed his father—a Greek restaurateur who could never keep himself out of the kitchen, despite the fact he was supposed to be managing his chain of restaurants from a distance.
"I like to work that way, I enjoy seeing things grow and flourish." He lazed back in his chair, breathing the heady aroma of the flowers on the overhead trellis.
Adrianna pouted.
He shrugged, opening his hands in a sign of surrender. "You're going to have to come completely clean with me if you want my help."
She gave a regretful sigh. "I'm in trouble with your father." She looked at him, sheepishly. "When I got the managers set up with the portfolio I insisted the team leader send me a daily report, not just when they needed approvals. I wanted to monitor and approve their every move." She paused. "I had George write it into the contract...but only so that I could check what they were up to."
"Poor old George, I suppose you sweet-talked him into doing it?" George was the family solicitor and he was like putty in Adrianna's hands. He'd had a crush on her for nearly thirty years.
Adrianna carried on regardless, as if eager to get the confession over with. "Your father caught me going through the emails. He was furious. Threatened to leave. You know what he's like."
He thought they'd managed to convince her to outsource the development side of the Ashburn Company, her company. But apparently she hadn't let it go. She'd begged Zac to take over from the outset, but he'd recently got his own business on to steady ground and the time wasn't right. Besides, she had to learn to trust others outside the family. It wasn't easy, god knows he knew that himself. He'd had his fingers burned in the past. But these were professional money managers they were talking about. "It was only a matter of time until you were found out, naughty Adrianna."
"Please, Zac. I know you're busy with your...thing." She waved her hand. She'd never thought the arts world was worthy of his attention. "They do have a good reputation, but I'm not happy with them. They've just announced a change in personnel. The man I've been in contact with is going elsewhere, what sort of impression is that supposed to give a soul? I'd much rather they were working closely with one of us but your father won't let me." She gave him an imperious glance. "It is your inheritance, Zachary."
"Ah, so we're playing the inheritance card now, are we?"
She glared at him.
He adopted a more serious expression. "In another few months I can look at the entire situation again, right now my commitments wouldn't allow me to do it justice. In the meantime, do you want me to deal with these daily reports for you, keep an eye on the Robertson people?" Robertson people, attractive receptionist—now why did that sound so interesting?
Adrianna broke into a relieved smile, leaned over and rested her hand over his. "Would you, darling? I'd be so glad."
"If you promise to rest."
She didn't answer. Instead she rustled about under the table, pulling out a glossy, bound file. "You'll need this."
He fought back another laugh and took it from her hand. It was the dossier of the Robertson team, a standard business pack presented to clients.
"I've arranged an end of month meeting. They've got the contract until then."
"That's not very long."
"I wanted a get-out if I didn't like them."
"Or you decided to take over again," he murmured. She was incorrigible. He leafed through the folder while sipping on his iced tea. Stats and recommendations lined up against publicity shots. It all looked pretty solid, but one could never tell. He was about to snap the file shut when something caught his eye.
Adrianna was still verbalizing her concerns in the background, but her voice faded away. He flipped the pages back. There she was, the receptionist. His blood heated immediately.
He scrutinized the group shot. She was dressed impeccably and standing between the head of the organization and another suited man. He scanned the names. Abigail Douglas. Investment Advisor. He did a double take.
What do you know? He flicked through the resumes at the back of the file. According to the suggested Ashburn team list, she was heavily involved in running his Mother's affairs. How amusing.
"Well, well." He glanced up.
"What is it, have you found something already?"
"Don't get carried away with your wishful thinking." He closed the file. "Trust me. I'll do all that I can to watch over your interests."
"And you won't tell your father?"
"I won't tell," he assured her, smiling. He was happy to take it on. Especially if it meant he had access to the lovely Abigail Douglas.
Chapter Two
Abby closed the boardroom door behind her and joined the meeting. Tom Robertson, the Executive Director, watched over as they arranged themselves. It was a fairly small, select group that had been summoned for the project control meeting and they gathered at one end of the polished mahogany table.
Aside from herself and Ed, Penny Conroy had been summoned. Penny had been working as an assistant to Abby and Ed for the past eighteen months. She sat poised at the edge of her seat, her ash-blonde hair scraped back into a tight swirl, speared at the nape of her neck with a carved wooden creation akin to a spear. She had strange gray eyes and looked as if she never needed to rest.
Caroline Bradshaw, the legal representative of their company, was also present. She was the one who kept them all on their toes. Quiet and observant, her personal characteristics reflected her role as shadow to the team's work.
"Thank you for gathering so promptly," Tom began, rising to his feat and pacing, as was his way. "I want to discuss some re-organization of project control, with changes taking affect immediately. If anyone has any problems with my suggestions, please voice them." He was, as ever, leading the group, but giving an appearance of shared control and responsibility.
"I'd like to begin by stating that I don't normally advise shifting project control about like this, and you may be wondering why I am taking this route now." A murmur of acknowledgement ran round the assembled group. "The situation is that I've been asked to personally manage a prestige account, so the asset management of the Pascal portfolio is going to have to leave my hands. This will have an inevitable impact on the team workload, but I've already informed all the clients involved so we can move forward."
"Pascal has been a complicated client portfolio because they wanted analysis of previous investments as well as onward management. I'm only mid way with the analysis, so that's the first priority." He rested his hands on the table and looked round at them. "It's a two person job, so you're all going to be shifted."
As the meeting rolled on, it turned out to be just as Ed had suggested. Tom was handing over to Ed, who would lead the team for Pascal. Penny would also go over to the project full time. Abby wondered how Ed had found out so much beforehand, then she noticed that Penny anticipated every word from Tom's mouth with a self-satisfied gleam in her eye. Abby began to wonder what the purpose of the meeting was, if everybody already knew what was going to be said—where was the fun and the mystery in that? She smiled inwardly. It was one of the reasons why she didn't socialize with them as much as she used to—they all took themselves far too seriously.
Tom turned to Abby. "And briefly, in conclusion, the matter of the Ashburn portfolio. That I am going to place in your hands, Abigail. I am confident that you'll be able to continue with that project and see it through to a long renewal." He smiled graciously, his sharp eyes affectionate, as if he knew she'd be pleased about it.
Abby felt the rush of adrenaline that came from a welcome challenge. It was indeed a good opportunity. "I'll be glad to take it on, Tom," she replied, and her smile was genuine. Next to the thrill of an orgasm this was the sort of thrill she enjoyed most of all.
"I'm sure the new arrangements will benefit the clients involved and exhibit our dedication to success. We always have 'the best interests of the customer's account at heart.'". He smiled while he quoted the company motto.
When the meeting dispersed Tom targeted Abby and took her to one side. "Are you happy with the additional responsibility?" He had a quality about him that was both charming and disarming, a skill that had undoubtedly established him in life. His presentation was immaculate. He never had a silvering-hair out of place.
She gave him a confident nod. "I'm sure things will go smoothly. The project has less than three weeks until the contract renewal date."
Tom nodded, but remained thoughtful. "Adrianna Ashburn is a formidable lady."
Abby smiled. "So I understand."
Tom returned the smile, but briefly. "She's also rather eccentric and liable to move her account after the trial period."
Ed had hinted as much, but Abby hadn't realized Tom was anxious about it.
"It's her baby and handing it over clearly hasn't been easy." He paused for emphasis. "I'd really like to secure this portfolio for permanent management by our team."
Abby nodded. He was concerned that she'd thought she was getting the easy part of the bargain, and he was telling her privately that she hadn't. Far from it, she knew that. "If I keep the turnover levels up and complete new developments to the client's satisfaction during that time—and I'm sure I can—then there shouldn't be anything to worry about."
She was aware that Tom considered her a bit of a law unto herself. She didn't exactly play by the rules when it came to business, but her track record had proven her a risk worth taking. She was also aware of his watchful eye over her work. To be left alone in charge of such a major account was quite a step forward, and no small acknowledgement of her ability on his behalf.
"I don't doubt you can, Abby. But if you need any help, don't hesitate to come to me. At any time." He gave her a lingering look that was edged with sexual references.
Abby was surprised. She'd heard about his many affairs but hadn't previously felt his attention focusing on her. It was flattering, but Abby didn't reciprocate his interest. In their high-flying corporate world it was far too easy to have sex for all the wrong reasons, and if she thought on it too long she knew she'd already done that with Ed.
She thanked him for his confidence in her, then looked over his shoulder and saw that Ed and Penny were engrossed in conversation as they left the room. Caroline had already gone.
"I should grab Ed's files and get on with the job." She nodded at Tom, picked up her notes and left.
In the ladies restroom she peered at her reflection analytically. She didn't look like a highflying investment manager, never had. The mop of reddish brown hair didn't help. In the right light it could pass for chestnut or auburn. In this rather unforgiving light it looked ginger.
The door opened behind her. "Hi, Abby." Caroline's oval reflection appeared next to her own in the mirror. "Grabbing a minute to yourself?"
"Yes, before the onslaught." Abby glanced down into her bag to find her comb.
"It's going to be tough, but you'll be fine. Call on me if you need any support." She patted Abby's arm.
"Sure thing."
"Still on for the gym next week?"
Abby raked the comb through her hair. "Absolutely, at least their air conditioning works."
Caroline chuckled. "You're right and it's just as well." She plucked the top off her lip liner. "I expect you'll be glad you don't have to work with Penny any more." The words popped from her mouth as if they could no longer be retained, despite the fact she was assaulting herself with the lip liner at the time.
Abby looked up, surprised. She usually avoided office allegiances and gossip as far as possible, but she was made curious by Caroline's comment.
"Penny's a good assistant. I always felt I could rely on her." She watched Caroline's face in the mirror. "I'll be sorry to lose her contribution to the team, but she'll be valued on the Pascal account, I'm sure."
Caroline gave a sad, knowing smile. "She wanted your job, you know. It won't be long until she's after Ed's...she's always had an eye for the main chance."
"Ah, well, ambition is a quality both valued and scorned. It all depends how you go about these things." Abby winked.
"You're so right." She paused. "But watch out for her, and don't let misplaced trust be your downfall."
Caroline's words followed her as she returned to her office. Misplaced trust?
They were indeed a driven, ambitious lot and that showed itself in many colors, good and bad. She'd always tried to maintain a life outside of it, to keep her feet on the ground. To keep her balanced.
A life outside of this.
She slid open her drawer and lifted the card the wolf-smile man had given her. She'd wanted him as soon as she'd seen him. She wondered what his name was. Aside from hanging out by reception hoping he'd call by again, there was only one thing to do: hunt him down. And he'd left her bait. She was going to take it. But first, some research.
She picked up the phone and tapped in the number for her friend, Marcy, who also happened to be up on what went on in London at any given moment.
The answer machine clicked on after two rings. Marcy's indolent tone rang out. "I'm either out enjoying myself, asleep or in the bathroom, please leave your message now."
Abby started leaving a message and was interrupted by a lazy hello and a long yawn. "Sorry, honey, didn't make it out of bed in time. Heavy night. How you doing?"
"Doing good, but I'm straining at the leash, how about you?"
"That's what I like to hear, can't have you getting all stuffy in that high-tech business world of yours."
"Not going to happen, and you know it. Listen, I was wondering if you'd heard anything about a new alternative arts venue on the north side. It's called The Hub."
Abby could make out the sound of coffee being poured at the other end of the line.
"Doesn't ring any bells with me."
"And there was me thinking with your connections..."
"Ha. Would you be referring to my connections as a photographer and media pundit, or my other connections?"
Abby spun her chair to look out the window. "Don't be coy, Marcy. It doesn't suit you."
"You're right there. So you're getting used to the idea that I walk on the dark side?"
"What a sense of humor. It took a little time, but yes. It's not every day your best friend of fifteen years announces she's bisexual."
"At least you didn't assume I was going to pounce in your undies." Marcy's tone was rueful. Some of her friends hadn't been so understanding.
"I'm heartbroken that you didn't try, Marcy."
"Don't tease. If I thought you were interested in women that way I could show you plenty of ways to loosen up after all that brokerage." She stressed the word. Marcy hated anything to do with figures, claimed it gave her a headache.
"I bet you could." Abby chuckled. Somehow teasing each other about it had made it okay. Odd, but true.
A yawn echoed down the phone. "What did you say this place is called?"
"The Hub, Camden Town."
"Actually...I think it might be the venue where The Candy Shock Tarts are performing."
"Candy Shock Tarts?" Abby's eyebrows lifted.
"They're a small theatre troupe from Denmark, they specialize in spoofing musicals. Apparently they named themselves after some candy that explodes in your mouth and melts on your tongue." Marcy moaned with mock pleasure.
"Okay, okay," Abby chuckled, "I get the picture."
"Why the sudden interest?" Marcy was waking up.
"I saw something that caught my eye." Or someone. Abby turned the business card in her fingers, watching the hologram wink at her.
"Shall I try to get tickets for the show? I think they're doing Cabaret this go round, it's on Saturday."
"If you can, I'll love you forever."
"Leave it to me."
When she put the phone down, Abby stood up and strolled down the corridor to Suzanne's desk. "Are you free on Saturday? I might be going over to that venue, you know, the one the courier recommended?"
Suzanne looked at her, impressed. "Go, Abby!"
"If we get tickets, can you come?"
"I'd love to, but I'm babysitting." She shot out a hand to grab Abby's. "I want to hear all about it though." She winked.
Abby rolled her eyes. "He might not even be there, but if he is I'll tell all."
* * * *
It was hard work with long hours, but by Friday Abby had a confident overview of the aspects of the Ashburn portfolio that were previously handled by Ed. She wanted to develop the property investments he'd been handling, and perhaps action something unique to mark her period in charge. If she wanted to make a significant difference to the account—and that was her personal and professional goal—time was limited, because the contract renewal date was looming on the calendar.
She also had to push up the short-term stock turnover, enlarging her previous responsibility. She and Penny had done useful research on upcoming opportunities in the franchise market. Abby was determined to keep that side ticking over, alongside developing Ed's work.
She'd been with the Robertson Corporation for three years. Her experience had been varied and responsible enough for her to consider going freelance. She'd made private investments that had been successful and she had the initiative to put her profits to good use. If the Ashburn portfolio did well, she would take it as the sign to go it alone.
The low pulse tone of the phone interrupted her thought trail. It was Ed, calling from Heathrow.
"I'm catching the eleven o' clock flight to Geneva to meet with Pascal. It's primarily to negotiate working parameters. I'll be back Sunday morning, early." He paused. "If you meet me at Heathrow...I'll buy you breakfast."
"OK, Ed. Bien sur, au revoir."
He was still trying. He'd been trying for nearly a year now. Something about him made her fidget. He was more than efficient in the sex department but when he got all cozy on her she felt the urge to run naked through the streets—in the opposite direction. Actually, she mused, she felt the urge to run through the streets naked more each day. Perhaps it was the heat. Restless, she tapped her fingers against the desk.