A Matter of Trust: London Calling Book One (4 page)

There was a quick beat of silence. “Dev? Why do I get the impression you’re not happy? Is something wrong?”
 

Devon loved her family. Dominic Martin and his father, Patrick, were no less included in that group than her own father. She’d joked about having dual parentage, alternately raised by her dad, then Patrick and his wife Alice when she’d still been alive.
 

But now Devon was determined to make her own way, on her own terms. A lonely desire to see her closest friend and surrogate brother warred with fierce independence. Love won out. “No, Dom. Everything is great, other than being crazy busy. I may not have all the time I’d like to spend with you, that’s all. But we’re flexible, right?” She paused, hopeful she hadn’t hurt him with her hesitation. “I’m glad you’re coming. I didn’t think you’d be able to with your workload.”

“I have an opportunity over there that I’d rather look into sooner than later.” Dom had started his own tech software company some years ago and was hugely successful. Recently, he’d expanded the business into security and personally designed firewall systems to help keep his clients’ information secure.

“Ah, so the real reason emerges!” She laughed, relieved. “I’m glad to hear that, actually. I would have worried you’d be bored here. My hours can be a little brutal at times.” She thought of last night’s marathon. “But if all else fails, I’ll bring you to work with me. I bet Sterling International could use some of your security software, right?”
 

She was only half kidding. They took great pride in each other’s work. Perhaps there was an opportunity for him in Sterling’s rarified world of investment banking. Caught up in her thoughts, she missed his own pause.
 

“Ah, well, we’ll see about that. Dev, listen, someone’s at the door. It’s probably my dinner being delivered. I better go.”
 

He abruptly ended the call. Devon stared at her phone before switching it off. By her calculations, it was 10:30 p.m. in Chicago, a late supper even for Dominic. Shaking her head, she thought it far more likely a female friend had arrived at his door. Chuckling, she rose.

She missed him. She scooped coffee into a French press, pouring in hot water from the kettle she’d boiled. He’d help her get her bearings back. This
thing
with Bennett, whatever it was, had unsettled her.
 

Dominic helped her remember herself. He always kept her centered; this would be no exception. And in return, she would pursue some introductions for him.
 

She headed for the shower, balancing her coffee on the sink basin so it could cool off. She’d ask Natalie, Bennett’s PA, if she might help acquaint him with some key contacts.
 

Surely, the woman would cooperate. While she hadn’t technically warmed to Devon in the past weeks, she had thawed a bit. Besides, Dominic could charm the birds from trees.
 

Satisfied, Devon thought no more of it, moving her mind to work. Even after her late night and interrupted morning, she buzzed with energy. She couldn’t wait to get back and show off her work to Bennett’s directors. It was almost a shame he wouldn’t see it.

***

Four thousand miles away, Dominic Martin sat in the penthouse suite of his Chicago high-rise, surrounded by glass and steel. He sipped the Jameson he’d poured while talking to Devon, grimacing as it burned down his throat. He deserved a little pain, lying to her that way.
 

He rolled his neck, working out the stiffness. No, it wasn’t lying. He just wasn’t telling her everything. He would keep a few secrets, for a little while. Tossing the rest of the whiskey back, he swallowed before setting the glass down, hard.
 

He opened his laptop to read the file he’d started on his next client.
 

Bennett Sterling
.

***

Talking with Dominic left Devon upbeat. As she walked to work, she felt confident and ready. She’d dressed in a crisp white shirt and navy pencil skirt, tucking peep-toe heels in her bag to slip on later while wearing ballet flats for the commute. She’d tied back her thick brunette hair with a bold geometric scarf. Simple, chunky gold jewelry finished the look.
 

She kept positive right up to the moment when she looked up from preparing her notes, ready to begin. Bennett sat at the boardroom table, directly in front. Swallowing, she glanced at Aidan to see if he’d noticed.
 

He approached with an encouraging smile. Laying a hand on her shoulder, Aidan leaned close. “It looks like we have unexpected company. Don’t be nervous, you can do this. Just explain the information we have. And be yourself.” He gently pressed her shoulder with his fingers, then took his seat.
 

Across the room, Bennett’s eyes narrowed at the fleeting exchange.
 

Clearing her throat, she began, “Ladies and gentleman, as you are aware, we’ve recently completed a Chinese Yuan valuation study. I’d like to present our findings.”

Forty-five minutes later, Devon sucked in a shaky breath while smiling at Aidan in camaraderie. The presentation went overlong when Bennett fired rapid questions about the data, research, and prospective market changes. Tempers frayed as his interrogation strayed into demands for predictive future stabilities.
 

Aidan snapped, “For God’s sake, how could we possibly know that? You don’t want market analysts; you want us to be clairvoyants.”

Devon caught Aidan’s eye to slightly shake her head in warning.

He continued, “And frankly, you could take things a little easier on Devon. She’s doing very well and her presentation included all the information you asked for.” He smiled in reassurance while she inwardly cringed.
 

Bennett slid his gaze from Aidan to Devon. A muscle bunched in his jaw, but he took a deep breath, visibly loosening. Leaning forward, he braced his forearms on his knees. “Mr. Kennedy, I pay you, all of you, to know the world markets. You are not merely market analysts. You’re some of the best economists working today. I should know. I found and hired you.” He leaned back, at ease and in full control.

“Let me remind you what economists do, Aidan. They predict the future. And if they’re wrong, they explain. But my economists aren’t usually wrong. You’re the best. Being the best includes providing more than what’s required. Or
requested
.”

He swung his attention directly to Devon. She was riveted by the intensity of his stare.
 

“You’ll learn to anticipate what I need, and you’ll give it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Perfectly.” She kept her eyes trained on his, refusing to be intimidated. Plus, she dreaded looking at anyone else to see if the sparks and innuendo were as apparent as she feared.

 
As if sensing her disquiet, Bennett was up and out of his seat, signaling the end of the meeting.
 

“And that’s why he’s the boss.” Aidan stepped over to help her collect her things. “I know that was tense, but he thinks you’re doing very well. He’s always positive when we review your progress.” At Devon’s puzzled look, he continued, “He’s asked for regular updates. I assume he wants to ensure you’re settling in, adjusting to things here.”

On one hand, she was relieved the tension with Bennett had gone unnoticed. Aidan seemed genuinely unfazed, obviously not hearing any double entendre in Bennett’s words. Perhaps she shouldn’t either. Frowning, she focused on the conversation.

“Is that usual? For new staff?”

“Well, no. But honestly, I want you to be happy here too.” He gave her an awkward pat before holding the door for her to step through.
 

Devon walked through to find Natalie and Bennett standing directly in front of her. Aidan, hard on her heels, bumped into her back, jostling the files and laptop she was carrying. Quickly coming to the rescue, he saved her from dropping it all by grabbing her arms to steady her.
 

“Whew! That was close.” He reached in to straighten her load before clasping her wrists in shared relief.
 

Bennett and Natalie stood motionless, never moving an inch. Natalie raked her gaze from Aidan to Devon, smiling coldly.

“This is cozy. I hope we’re not interrupting anything, Aidan.”
 

“No, of course not. And I think you know that, Natalie.” His voice held quiet dignity.
 

With that concise declaration, he won Devon’s friendship. She beamed at him in approval. Natalie interrupted them with a pointed look at Aidan’s hands, still resting loosely on Devon’s wrists. Aidan flushed, removing them immediately.

“He was helping me. I almost dropped all my things,” Devon rushed to his defense.

Bennett’s voice cut through the conversation coldly. “Devon, be in my office in fifteen minutes.”

***

Precisely fifteen minutes later, Devon walked into his office suite, stopping in front of Natalie’s desk. Knowing the other woman heard Bennett order her to be there, Devon stood silent. She suffered the other woman’s mute survey, waiting as Natalie’s gaze traveled down and back up before meeting her eyes. Devon matched her slight smirk with placid indifference. Seconds ticked by.

With resolute nonchalance, Devon asked, “Shall I take a seat?”
 

A flash of respect darkened Natalie’s pale blue eyes. Pasting on a false smile, she answered,
“No, Mr. Sterling is ready for you.” She rose to open the door to his office.
 

As the door was closing behind her, Devon heard her add, “
Good luck.”

***

As soon as she walked in, Bennett knew he was doomed. It was too soon after watching her talk on about money markets and futures for nearly an hour while he’d struggled to focus. Her beauty had seized him from the time she entered the boardroom. But her brain had him equally smitten. She was faultless and brilliant. It was too bad he’d probably only heard a fraction of what he needed to know.
 

Did she affect everyone the same?
 

Aidan had blathered on, defending her like a medieval champion. Aidan, a senior director best known for being cool and self-possessed. A man also known to be seriously involved with an attractive and likable young woman.
 

Looking around, Bennett’s entire team of directors had been glued to Devon, riveted. She was fascinating and compelling.

To everyone
.

He waved a hand to the seat directly across from him and waited as she crossed to it. His temper pulsed through him as he took in how she squared her narrow shoulders, facing him. She sat straight and upright, crossing her ankles beneath her chair.
 

“Devon, are you aware of this company’s policies regarding workplace harassment?” He kept his tone cool, to match her bland expression.
 

“Yes.” She offered nothing more, and he inwardly seethed. Her expression assumed mild expectation mixed with patience.

“And are you aware that Aidan Kennedy is a happily involved man, soon to be engaged?”

“No.”
 

Goaded by her lack of emotion, he burst out, “And do you
care
, Ms. Sinclair?”

She smoothed her skirt, glancing down at her hands. “No, actually I don’t.” Her eyes lifted and he was startled to see they’d darkened to deep charcoal.

“It has nothing to do with me. Mr. Kennedy is my managing director and we don’t share a personal relationship.” She leaned forward to lay a finger on the edge of his desk, subtly pointing at him. “If you’re implying something else, you’re wrong.
And
you’re out of line.”

Her calm announcement was paramount to setting a match to gasoline. Bennett smacked a palm down on his desk, rocking her back in her seat while clearing his own head of her nearness.
 

“You’ve got some cheek coming in here and telling me I’m out of line in my own company, Ms. Sinclair.”

She paled but didn’t shrink back further. “I resent the implication that I’m some femme fatale intent on seducing your male employees away from their faithful partners.” She added, “Frankly, it’s insulting. And baseless.”

“Dammit, I didn’t imagine everyone’s reaction to you in there, Devon.” He saw confusion flash across her face before she blinked it away. Frustration at her composure gnawed at him. He continued, glaring, “Let’s drop the pretense, okay? It’s not as though I haven’t experienced your charm firsthand.”

Satisfaction raced through him as her mouth dropped open to quickly shut again. Spurred on, he continued. “The only surprise today was seeing you in action around everyone else. You bewitched and entranced every man in that room today. It was
quite
a performance.” He bit out the final words with savage precision.

They found their mark. Devon reared back, her face leeched of all color. Her eyes widened and pained hurt arced from her to Bennett. Suddenly, his anger fell away, leaving him confused and conflicted.
 

“Dammit, don’t look at me like that!” He growled the words, scraping a hand over his eyes to block her from his sight. He couldn’t have imagined the effect she was having on everyone this morning. He
couldn’t.

Determined, he looked back at her. She’d folded her arms across her abdomen, tucking her hands into her sides. She still sat straight as an arrow, but he had the impression she’d withdrawn somehow. Her eyes looked through him, beyond him, and were back to being a nearly colorless gray.
 

“Devon,” he began again. And he almost missed it, so intent he was on what he was about to say. But she winced, nearly imperceptibly. He surged up from his chair, but halted when she flinched, more obviously this time. He started to reach for her, then hesitated, unsure.

Tonelessly, she said, “Are you firing me?”

Shocked, he overcame his resistance and lightly touched her arm, quickly removing his hand once he had her attention. He sat down again, leaning back with his hands laced over his abdomen. “No, Devon. I’m not firing you.” When she looked back at him, blankly, he repeated himself. “I’m not.”