ХеленКей Даймон – Reunion With Benefits (страница 7)

She grabbed her laptop. Almost dropped it. “I need to prep for another meeting with Rylan.”

Spence watched the fumbling. Even tried to help when the laptop started its dive, but when she pulled it all together, he stepped back again. Slipped his hands in his pants pockets. “When is it? I’ll come with you.”

“To the meeting? Do you think I can’t handle it?” He really was determined to babysit her. Thinking about that killed off her need to unbutton his shirt and strip it off him. Mostly.

“That guy’s interest in you is not entirely professional.”

Her brain cells scrambled. She didn’t understand what he was saying or why now. “And you’re worried I’ll kiss him, too?”

“I’m concerned he won’t know where the line is. I don’t want you to be put in an untenable position.” Whatever he saw on her face had him frowning. “What?”

“Where was this Spence months ago?” She would have done anything to have him stick up for her then. To be on her side.

“What does that mean?”

She retreated back behind her safe wall. Her mother had taught her to be wary. She’d learned the hard way from the man who never stuck around to be a dad. Then her mom taught the ultimate lesson when she died in that diner shooting. Abby had to be stronger, smarter. Always be ready. Always be careful.

“I’ll be fine.” Somehow, she made her legs move. The shaking in her hands had her laptop bouncing against her chest from the death grip she had on it. She ignored all of it, and Spence, as she walked out.

But that kiss she would remember.

* * *

Spence couldn’t forget the kiss or that look on Abby’s face. It was as if she expected him not to believe her, not to stick up for her. Then his mind slipped back to another office. Another kiss. He’d walked in and his life had turned upside down. All that hatred for his father manifested itself in one horrible second, and he’d taken it out on Abby. She knew about his father’s charm and his effect on women. He’d just hoped she would be different.

That realization brought him to Derrick’s office. Spence didn’t want to talk, but hanging out with Derrick generally calmed him. He was a reminder that the Jameson men could turn out to be decent. Their grandfather was a disgraced congressman. Dad was considered a big-time successful businessman who always had a beautiful woman on his arm. Spence and his brothers had spent too much time in the public eye as props for family photos and public relations schemes.

But Derrick was the real thing. He didn’t see it, but Carter and Spence did.

As soon as Spence walked in, Derrick motioned for him to take the seat on the other side of his massive desk. Without saying a word, Derrick opened the top drawer and took out a large envelope. “Here.”

Spence wasn’t exactly looking for work talk but he sensed that’s not what this was anyway. “Do I want to know what this is?”

“It’s from Dad.”

The damn agreement. Despite all of Derrick’s hard work, Eldrick owned the majority of the company. He promised to turn it over, but not before he put his boys through another set of tests. It was his way of holding on to power and exerting control.

Derrick had been given a specific time to clean up his reputation. He was also supposed to lure Carter and Spence home, which proved easy enough once Derrick admitted it to them. But he did more than that. He managed to run a multimillion-dollar company, expand its holding, meet their father’s conditions and land the best woman for him.

For Derrick—easy. For anyone else? Likely impossible.

Spence hated to guess what his task was. “Lucky me.”

Derrick dropped the envelope on the desk. “Rip it up without opening it.”

The suggestion didn’t make sense. “What?”

“Walk away from this.”

“Isn’t this my stipulation, the things I have to do? The way you explained it to me before, Dad only turns over the business if we all do his bidding. You had the biggest part and finished. Now it’s my turn.” Still, Spence couldn’t bring himself to touch the envelope.

“Don’t let him do this. It’s manipulation.”

It was. No one debated that. Not the lawyers who drew up the documents. Not Jackson, the only person outside of the family who knew other than Ellie. The requirements were personal and not likely to be legally enforceable, but with controlling interest, dear old Dad could sell the company and take the company that meant everything to Derrick away from him at any time. Spence refused to let that happen, even if it meant staying and working there.

“You deserve to run the company. You saved it.” To Spence, it was that simple. He’d talked to Carter, their younger, California-living brother. He agreed with Spence. Whatever it took to beat the old man and get Derrick the business, they would do it.

Derrick shrugged. “I’ll find another way.”

“I’m thinking it’s time I stepped up and took responsibility.” Something even Spence had to admit he should have done before. Stopped running long enough to help.

“Are we only talking about the job?” Derrick smiled as he asked the question.

“This isn’t about Abby.” It was infuriating how she was the first thing that popped into his mind—always. Spence couldn’t kick that habit.

“Right, Abby.” Derrick made a humming sound. “Do you notice how you brought up her name, not me?”

Spence was not touching that. He knew he had a weakness for her. There was no need to pretend otherwise. “I was talking about being more engaged here, at work.”

Derrick sat back in his chair. “I can’t say I hate that idea.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get excited. I might suck at it.”

This time, Derrick laughed. He’d so rarely done that in the past, but he did it now that he’d found Ellie. “I like the positive attitude.”

Spence never had one of those before. Maybe it was time he tried. “I’m being realistic.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Four

Abby kicked off her high heels and dropped down on her sectional sofa. Next, she propped her feet up on the round leather ottoman in front of her. If she had the energy, she’d change out of her work clothes. She picked dropping her head back against the cushions and closing her eyes instead.

The condo was on the seventh floor of a securebuilding that sat a block off of Logan Circle. The trendy area became trendy during the last decade. Now galleries and restaurants and fitness studios lined the streets. Several parks nearby provided great places to run and bike, but she tried never to do either. She preferred walking the city and turning her muscles to mush in kickboxing classes.

She picked the building because of the location. She was able to get in on the newly refurbished space before the prices skyrocketed and used a work bonus to do it. Now she laughed when she heard what people were willing to pay for studios on lower floors in the building. It was an odd feeling when the place you lived became a place you likely could no longer afford if you were trying to buy right now.

There were four condos per floor and those were serviced by a private elevator. A penthouse stretched the full length of the building on the floor above but there was never any noise up there except when the couple who lived there threw one of their lavish rooftop garden parties. She’d never been invited but she loved sitting out on her tiny balcony and listening to the music and laughter as it spun through the DC night.

The best part of the building was her neighbor—Jackson. His two-bedroom also had a den. She didn’t need the extra space or the bigger price tag, but she loved having him close by. The man appreciated takeout. One of his many fine attributes.

The door opened after a quick knock. She didn’t get up because she didn’t have to. She’d texted Jackson as she walked in the door. She wanted Chinese food and could almost always convince him to share with her.

“You’re drinking wine already?” He laughed as he relaxed into the corner seat of her sectional.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He’d stripped off his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shockingly white dress shirt. His hair showed signs that he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly during the day.

He really was attractive. Those big eyes and the athletic build. Decent and smart. Hardworking and compassionate. Funny. And she felt nothing but a big loving friendship for him.

Clearly there was something wrong with her. She knew what it was and didn’t try to hide it. “Spence.”

“Ah.” Jackson reached behind him to the table that sat there. “Here’s the bottle.”

Abby watched Jackson fill a glass for himself then put the bottle on a wooden tray on the ottoman for easy reach. If they were going to talk about Spence, and they were because she needed to blow off some of the frustration pinging around inside of her, then she might need a second glass.

She skipped over the kissing part of the afternoon and how that rocked her so hard she’d spent the rest of the day brushing her fingertips over her lips. “He talks and I want to punch him in the face.”

“That sounds like a healthy reaction.”

She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her glass. “Doesn’t it make you frustrated, having to deal with the Jamesons and their money and power and bullying behavior?”