Merger Takeover – To Hold

Excerpt

 

Chris

“Oh God, I am so not ready for this,” I said to my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My dark brown hair fell in loose waves down my back as I touched up my lightly applied makeup with one last stroke of mascara and barely-there matted lipstick. I took a few deep breaths, smoothing down my beige satin short-sleeved top and dark red pencil skirt, and walked my navy suede-covered pumps out of the bathroom.

Stepping out of the elevator on the 20th floor, I walked down the short hallway towards Wing and Ling’s former offices and through glass double doors. I came to a stop in front of a desk where a woman who looked to be in her fifties was seated with glasses halfway down her nose.

“Hello. Marge?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, pulling her glasses away from her face.

“I’m here for my 5 o’clock with Mr. Pierce and Mr. Hunt.”

She gave me an odd look, a bewildered expression taking over her smooth features. “You’re Christopher James?”

Christopher? Where had she gotten that from? “I’m Christen James.” I said.

“Oh! I’m sorry.”

Glancing at the wall clock above her head I asked, “May I go in now?”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Pierce’s office is just around the corner.”

I proceeded in her pointed direction. “Thanks.”

I came to a stop at the only closed door around the corner and knocked. Without awaiting a response, I turned the handle and stepped in.

The office was quite the transformation. I almost wowed out loud. It was spacious and stunning, completely reimagined from its previous state. I took several steps towards a large hardwood desk where Pierce was seated, and across from him was Lucas Hunt.

“Hello, Mr. Hunt, Mr. Pierce,” I said, and was met with complete silence. “May I take a seat?”

There was no response.

I pulled out the empty chair next to Hunt and sat down.

“And you are?” Lucas asked, shifting into an upright position. His intense yet neutral expression highlighted the severe angles that made up his exquisite features. His dark brown hair was stylized in a disconnected pompadour with faded sides and a top that defied gravity.

“Chris. Your 5 o’clock,” I said to Hunt, and turned to face Pierce who was staring at me with consuming eyes. His beard was much shorter than the last time I’d seen him and he wore that sexy 5 o’clock shadow like it was his right.

“You’re late,” Pierce stated, his gaze dropping to my chest and holding for a couple seconds as if wondering where he’s seen it, or them before.

I tried to appear unaffected, but my skin felt as if it were on a stovetop set to medium heat. “Yes. Sorry about that. Shall we begin?”

“What’s your full first name?” Lucas asked.

Christopher apparently. “Christen, with a C.”

“Nice name,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Pardon our earlier confusion. We didn’t know you were a woman,” Hunt said clearing his throat. “A female.” He corrected.

“It’s a bit sexist of you to assume I was a male, don’t you think?” I teased, glancing briefly at Pierce. He stared back with eyes that looked icy and smoldering at the same time, yet he didn’t utter a word. His crisp white dress shirt fit him in a way that made me thirsty. The rolled-up sleeves revealed strong arms dusted with dark hairs. For no reason at all, I imagined grabbing onto them and holding on for dear life. Klaire was right, his body was like a ladder I would so love to climb.

Lucas’s expression remained stoic. They were like Mr. Serious and Mr. Super Serious. “We wanted to meet with each of the department managers so we could be briefed on what each team has in their pipeline and discuss any existing or potential issues.”

Since Lucas was the only one speaking, I turned to him and gave him my full attention. I went through a list of the press and media communications my team and I had set for release, along with timelines and updates to the websites and social media messaging and graphics.

“That’s great,” Hunt said, and sounded genuinely impressed. “I know you worked with Aiden and other members of our team a few months prior to our arrival on content and language, so we’re up to speed on that front. Thanks again for your discretion regarding those matters.”

“Sure, you’re welcome,” I said.

“I would like to discuss the lead poisoning incident.” Pierce interjected.

I was momentarily taken aback by the abrupt change in subject. I shifted slowly in my chair to face him. “Ok.”

“How were you not fired after the stunt you pulled?” he asked, his lips barely moving and eyes appearing glacial.

About a year ago, the latest line of toys manufactured by WingLing from their Voltrox series was released in stores nationwide. During the first four months on shelves, there were two reported incidents of lead poisoning involving children who had recently come into contact with toys from the Voltrox line. When the toys were tested, results showed infinitesimal traces of lead. And upon receiving the results of the testing, WingLing opted to not only leave the toys on shelves, but they continued production.

When a third case was reported, I immediately drafted a press statement stating that WingLing would be issuing a nationwide recall of the entire Voltrox line and halting all of its production. WingLing rejected my assertion of a recall – an assertion that was also shared by most department heads as a no brainer – preferring to wait and see how things played out. Strongly disagreeing with a decision that I found not only morally reprehensible, but against all rules of corporate responsibility, I went against WingLing and released the recall statement to the press. This in turn forced WingLing to pull the Voltrox line off shelves.

At the time, I knew I was putting my job at risk, but it was worth it to me. And the recall ended up saving the company from potential lawsuits. However, WingLing’s delayed reaction to the crisis negatively impacted its stocks and was one of the many reasons the board had voted in favor of new management.

Fuming on the inside, I took a breath to calm myself and plastered on a smile that said, If you thought I was in the wrong, then you could go take a bleeping leap off a short pier. “I kept my job because that stunt was the best and only option for everyone involved.” Leaning forward, I continued. “I don’t regret my decision and I would gladly do it all over again.” Surely, he didn’t disagree with that.

“I don’t disagree.” Pierce said.

Not taking shit from people was something I sometimes exceled at, so if he wants to be an ass about this, I say bring it on. Glacially darkening eyes and all.

Hold up. Wait a minute. Stop! Did he just say he doesn’t disagree?

Okay, so why were we having this conversation? And of course, he doesn’t disagree. What kind of person would?

There was a moment of silence.

 

Aiden

Christ! She was fucking beautiful. Exotically stunning. My little gym bunny. Her stubborn pouty lips were begging to be kissed, licked, pulled, bitten, sucked, and fucked. Watching her for the past 30 minutes, all I could think of were the ways I wanted to take her. The ways I will take her.

I didn’t know why I was looking to start a fight. Maybe I wanted to punish her for her misleading name. After numerous email exchanges during these past five months, it never occurred to me that Chris was in fact a female. Not that it would have made a difference in our interaction, but it would have been nice to not have been caught off guard. Or maybe I wanted to punish her because for the past eight days since our gym encounter, I had come in my shower while I pictured fucking her and coming all over her perfect ass. Maybe it was the fact that her intelligence, standing up to what she believed in, and especially her stubborn mouth, had gotten me so hard. It was taking all I had to not lunge for her and force her to submit to my will. Even having had more than my share of women, I couldn’t recall ever feeling this strongly about wanting another or needing one beneath me. So no, I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about picking a fight.

I reclined into my leather chair and casually studied the nuance of each expression that fleetingly crossed her face. “Do you have a problem with authority?” I asked.

Lucas swung a back-the-fuck-off look in my direction. A look I disregarded without hesitation. The small crack in her beautiful smile belied the simmering anger I knew she felt, and I also knew that if she could have her way at this moment, I would be toppling over on the floor from a swift kick to the groin. The thought almost had me smiling. However, she kept her composure, and I admired that about her. I admired most everything about her.

There was a slight pursing of her lips before she said, “I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

“I’m sure we can all agree that the recall was absolutely necessary, but do you think the way you handled it was determinative of the solution?”

I caught the puzzled look that she immediately schooled. “How would you have handled it differently?”

“I’m the one asking the questions.” My clipped voice sounded harsher than I had intended, but the sly smile that curved her distracting lips, made me feel less of a jerk.

“I don’t believe I have a problem with authority, however, if this authority were morally irresponsible, or say, being a bully and abusing his or her power,” she shrugged, “who’s to say what I might do.”

Lucas cleared his throat, breaking the staring standoff which had ensued. “It looks like our time is–” he was saying when Christen abruptly stood and I interrupted.

“Lucas, please give us a minute?” My eyes were still fixed on her.

“Sure.” Lucas said, attempting to get my attention with a warning look as he walked out of the office.

I ignored him.

“Christen! Sit!” I ordered and stood to walk around my desk. Leaning against it, I folded my arms and arched a brow as I waited for her to comply.

“I asked you to sit.” I said in a low voice.

She took a nervous step backwards which made me want to reach for her and pull her to me. “You commanded me to sit.”

“I guess you do have a problem with authority,” I said, and wasn’t sure if the comment kindled her anger, but I did notice the way her breathing had changed, which drew my gaze to her heaving chest, and suddenly all I wanted was to see beneath her blouse.

“Are you going to arrest me?” she taunted on a whisper.

“Do you want me to?” I volleyed back.

Slowly, I raked my gaze down her body and back to the voluptuous swell of breasts that reminded me of a bountiful harvest after a cruel famine. “Nice to see you in more appropriate clothing,” I lied. It would be nice to see her in absolutely nothing.

I got no response.

I needed to put a stop to this before I said and did something even more unprofessional than I already had. I took a deep breath and briefly closed my eyes, but instead of getting a clearer head, I got a subtle whiff of her scent. Warm vanilla and wet sex.

Christ!

I shook my head to force a mental reset back to network settings and again moved around the desk to mold myself into the awaiting leather chair. “Do I need to worry about you going rogue if I gave a directive you disagree with?”

“No,” She stated firmly.

“Alright. That will be all.”

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