Рейчел Бейли – His 24-Hour Wife (страница 2)
“Congratulations,” he said. “So how does this involve me?”
“They’ve given me an assignment. If I handle this project well, I’ll make partner.” At twenty-nine, she’d be the youngest partner in the history of the firm.
He raised one eyebrow. “What’s the assignment?”
“The Hawke Brothers’ Trust.” His company’s new charity raised money for homeless children; it had already made a splash with various events, including a bachelor auction, and was now ready to move to the next level. Something Callie was looking forward to being a part of.
“Ah,” he said, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize Jenna had brought in your company.”
Adam’s future sister-in-law, Princess Jensine of Larsland, had helped to create the charity and was in charge of day-to-day operations. Callie had suspected Adam wasn’t aware that her company had become involved. Which was why she was here, warning him, before she started work on the project.
“There was a good chance we’d run in to each other in a meeting or something, and I wanted to give you a heads-up before that happened.”
“I appreciate it. So,” he said, offering her half a smile, “how have you been?”
Despite being married, they didn’t really know each other well enough to catch up. They had no basic information to catch up on. So she said, “Good, and you?”
“Good,” he said, nodding.
It was awkward, so she took a breath and refocused. “I was thinking that maybe we should have our stories straight in case anyone puts two and two together.”
He rubbed a hand over his chin. “You mean about us being married?”
“Since I’ll be working with members of your family, it’s a possibility.”
“It won’t happen. They don’t know I—” He swallowed. “They don’t know what happened.”
“You didn’t tell your family that you got married?” She hadn’t expected he would brag about a short-lived Vegas wedding, but equally, she hadn’t expected that he’d keep it a secret from his two brothers. In the short time they’d spent together, he’d mentioned he was close to his younger brothers.
He shifted in his seat. “Did you tell your friends and family?”
“I didn’t tell everyone, but I told my sister.” She moistened her lips. “You seriously didn’t tell anyone?”
His face was unreadable. “I don’t generally telegraph my mistakes to the world.”
Asking her for a divorce had pretty much shown he had thought of their wedding as a mistake, but still, there was something in the way he held himself tall in the chair—and in his tone as he said it—that had made her feel small and insignificant. She’d thought of their time together as something wild and crazy, something out of character, where they just went too far. She hadn’t thought of herself as someone’s mistake. It hurt more than she would have expected.
But now that he’d made his feelings crystal clear, the stupid part of her needed to let go.
She took a breath. “While I’m here, we really should talk about a divorce.”
“Already underway,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve filled in the paperwork and was just waiting for my brother’s wedding to be over before filing it.”
“Oh, right. Good.” Everyone knew Adam’s younger brother was marrying Princess Jensine of Larsland, so Callie could see that he wouldn’t want to draw attention when the media could be hunting for stories.
“I didn’t want my alcohol-fueled decision to have ramifications for him.”
Flinching, she stood and hitched her bag over her shoulder. “I should go. Let me know when you’re ready to file the divorce papers.”
“Callie.” He reached out to her as he stood, and then let his hand drop. It was the first time his voice had held a note of tenderness since she’d entered his office. He’d been the only man who’d ever affected her with merely his voice, and she wobbled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was probably harsh. I don’t want us to part on bad terms.”
“It’s fine,” she said, summoning a polite smile. “But I’ve taken up enough of your time. I just wanted to give you some forewarning and I’ve done that, so I’d better get back to promoting the Hawke Brothers’ Trust.”
He held her gaze for a heartbeat or two, searching her eyes. Then he nodded and stepped back. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
Callie smiled and slipped out the door. Halfway down the corridor, her cell rang, and she paused in the reception room to answer it. A colleague’s name flashed on the screen: Terence Gibson. He’d recently been up for the same promotion as Callie and his competitiveness had bordered on excessive. Since she’d been offered this project with the chance to win the promotion if she did well, she knew this wasn’t going to be a congratulatory call.
“Hi, Terence,” she said.
“I can see why the partners gave you this assignment,” he said, not bothering to hide the malice in his voice.
She punched the elevator button. “And why is that?”
“Being married to one of the clients will certainly give you an edge.”
She froze.
“Oh, you mean they don’t know about your marriage to Adam Hawke? Oh, dear. I wonder what upper management will say when they find out. It will hardly make them feel as if they can trust you, and I hear they value open and clear communication in their partners.”
The elevator arrived but she ignored it, sagging back against the wall. “How did you...?”
“You really need to work on your poker face, Callie. The expression when they told you it was for the Hawke Brothers’ Trust would have told anyone watching closely enough that you had some sort of connection. The question was only about which brother. After a bit of searching I found that you married one of them three months ago. Although I couldn’t find a record of a divorce anywhere. I assume that’s where you are now? With your husband?”
Her stomach clenched tight. “What do you want, Terence?”
Despite asking the question she had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be.
“Stand back from this assignment and let them hand it to me.”
It was what she’d expected him to say, but still, the gall of the man, the entitled arrogance, was staggering. “You know I won’t do that. It would be handing you the promotion, as well.”
“Then I’ll sell the story to the tabloids,” he said, his voice almost gleeful. “I’m sure you can imagine what a PR disaster that will create. They’ll love an exposé about the future prince’s brother having a drunken wedding in a tacky Las Vegas chapel.”
“No.” It would overshadow her assignment and ruin her chances of the promotion.
“Then step away now and give me a clear shot at the partnership.”
So either she stepped back and let Terence have the partnership, or she stayed and he caused a scandal, meaning he’d probably get the partnership instead of her anyway. Neither of those choices was appealing, but she especially didn’t like giving in to blackmail. She needed time to think. To find a third option. She had to stall him.
“Give me a few days to think about it. Even if I tell the partners I can’t take the assignment I’ll need some time to come up with a believable reason.”
“You have one day. Twenty-four hours.”
The line went dead.
Callie blew out a breath, turned on her heel and headed back to Adam Hawke’s office.
* * *
Adam stood when Rose, his receptionist, buzzed to tell him Callie Mitchell wanted to see him again. It had barely been five minutes since she’d left. He told Rose to let her through, and then had a look around the room for something Callie had forgotten. He couldn’t find anything. But then, he was hardly focused enough to be sure.
Since she’d first made the appointment yesterday, he’d been unsettled. He’d dreamed about her last night, about their time together. About making love to her. Though that wasn’t uncommon—he regularly dreamed about making love to her.
Which just showed how bad she was for his equilibrium. Control over himself and his life was important to him, and Callie made him feel off-center—a feeling he disliked intensely.
Then from the moment she’d appeared through his door this morning, he’d barely had two functioning brain cells to rub together. Hell, he hadn’t even greeted her, just made some inane comment about her hair. Though her reply had been memorable...
He prayed this would be a short visit so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by blurting out something worse than what she’d said.
After a knock on his door, there she was again, as if conjured from his dreams, her rich, caramel-brown hair hanging sleek around her shoulders, her olive skin smooth. He knew from experience the taste of that skin, and his heart skipped a beat as the memory flooded his senses.
“Did you forget something?” he managed to ask.
She shook her head, her silver-blue, almond-shaped eyes serious. Something had changed.
She tipped up her chin and met his gaze squarely. “We have a problem.”
He was careful not to touch her and set off more memories as he moved behind her to shut the door and lead her to one of the chairs they’d occupied only minutes before.
Once they were settled, he said, “Okay, tell me.”
“A