Breaking All the Rules (2 page)

“We’d only planned on paying for one act,” One of the men said, then cowered when Benson shot hard daggers in his direction.

“Get us Charlotte’s Drive and you’ve got a deal, Miss Barnes,” He spoke sternly, his gaze softening when he looked over at her. “You’ve got three days to confirm or we will go a different direction.”

Mia quieted the cheerleaders inside her and accepted the challenge, “I’ll get back to you in less than two.”

Benson rose, as did his associates. The brief meeting had ended. Tyler gave quick, flimsy handshakes to the men and Mia followed, though she’d mastered the art of a strong shake. Her legs quivered as she got to Benson. She could smell him again, the mixture of worn leather and rich woods seemed ill fitting, though she graciously accepted the images conjured by the scent. A flutter of excitement drifted to her sex as she imagined a thick paddle leaving its imprint on the smooth skin of her ass. As if he could read minds, Benson caught her gaze and licked his lips. She drew her hand away and gave him a simple nod before turning and gracefully striding out of the room.

Mia swallowed hard as she sauntered out of the room. She waited until they’d round the corner, away from the sultry gaze digging into her backside, until she let out a breath of relief.

“That was so awesome,” Tyler whispered loudly, trying to contain his excitement for the sake of her sanity. “You’re a beast, Mia.”

“I prefer animal,” She said flirtatiously.

“Animal, huh?”

Mia bit her lip and fought the heat on her cheeks, turning swiftly on a heel to face Benson Ward. He leaned casually against the wall with his arms and legs crossed. Their gazes caught and he spoke a demand, “A word, Miss Barnes.”

The elevator doors opened and she shot a look at Tyler, who was watching the two in a jealous curiosity, “Wait for me downstairs.”

Like the obedient, lost puppy he was, Tyler obeyed. Dipping into the cab without saying a word. Benson barely waited for the doors to close before he strode over, grabbing one of her arms to pull her in. He cemented a hand on her ass, the gentle squeeze making the heat between her legs roar. His mouth was rough, yet delicate, against the smooth skin of her neck.

“You’re a particular woman, Miss Barnes,” He murmured.

“So they say,” She barely managed to reply, her body loosening in his arms.

“Good thing I have particular tastes,” Benson growled, his warm breath swirling up to her ears. His hand flexed over her ass, and she desperately hoped it would leave a mark. She could feel his erection pressing hard against her. She wondered how it would feel in her hands, her mouth.

Mia looked up at him through heavy eyes. He was staring at her like she was a fine wine worth savoring. Words stuck in his throat, he decided it best to just take what he wanted. Her. But as he leaned in for a kiss, Mia swiveled out of his arms. She took a ragged breath and caught her composure, though one look at Benson thick with lust and the outline of his delightful cock against his designer pants undid her again. It took all the strength she had to call for the elevator and snap back into reality, though Benson did his best to reel her back in. He closed the distance once more, letting out a guttural noise as he kissed her.

His kiss was electric, searching. The tension between the two rose with each swipe of his tongue inside her mouth. Mia was melting into his arms, away from her morals. She would gladly take him to bed that moment- if he weren’t the owner of a venue she was trying to secure. The venue. The band. The company. A ding rung from the elevator, signaling its approach. Mia tore away, breathless, though she made no effort to move.

Instead, she whispered, almost sadly, “I don’t mix business and pleasure, Mr. Ward.”

“You should,” He growled.

The elevator doors opened, and Mia didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset nobody was inside. She gave a faltering smile and dipped out of his arms, sliding into the elevator before she had a chance to change her mind.

“I’ll see you soon, Miss Barnes,” He bid throatily, his hand reaching down to rest on his cock pressed tightly against his pants.

It was the last thing Mia saw before the doors closed. She let out a rush of air and stabled herself against the cool railing of the cab.
God, that man is…
Mia shuttered. Nobody had elicited such raw passion in her since, well, since ever. Many had come close, but she’d never experienced anything quite like Benson Ward before. She straightened her hair and smoothed her shirt as the elevator descended, stopping only once to let a small group of people on. When she reached the bottom, she stepped out and found Tyler eagerly waiting.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, his voice threaded with anger and jealousy. “I was like, two seconds away from coming up to get you.”

“Mr. Ward was just going over some finer details with me,” Mia fabricated.

“Sure,” Tyler glanced over at her as they began to walk out. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other.”

Mia tilted her head back and laughed, “Tyler Abbott, you dirty dog. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“No!” He defended, standing up straight.

              “Not that there’s anything to be jealous of,” She noted, the city air hitting her hard as they stepped out onto the street. “You know I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

              She waved them a cab and Tyler pressed on, “But would you? Mix the two, I mean.”

              “I don’t have a good history of mixing the two. Stop prying; it’s not a good look. C’mon. I’ll drop you off at your guy’s apartment on my way back to the office.”

              As they rode silently through the busy New York streets Mia couldn’t help but ask herself the same question. Would she? Would she mix business and pleasure?
For Benson
. No,
for anyone
, she corrected herself. Could she ever let herself get over her past indiscretions with men in the industry? Business associates made for bad bed fellows, even if they were tall, dark, and handsome. Mia noted to wear a less flattering blouse the next time she’d see Benson Ward, for the sake of her own sanity.

**********

              Mia needed a drink. Or three. She had finished her work day quickly, putting off the task of getting a hold of Grant Bell for the next day. Speaking to an ex-lover wasn’t something she particularly wanted to do, but she needed to secure the venue. Monarch Records was thriving because of Charlotte’s Drive, but they needed more than just one mega-band under their belt. Opening up for Charlotte’s Drive at a hip new venue could be what Burnside needed. It could be what she needed. For that, she’d put up with Grant Bell and his delicious lips and dark eyes.

              Lingering in her building, she sent a quick text to her best friend, Lora Tate, asking her to meet her at a bar nestled between both of their apartments. Lora, whose phone was permanently attached to her, replied quickly saying she was already there. With a big grin, Mia hurried out of the building and onto the busy New York City streets. She contemplated the impending rush hour before slipping down into the subway. As she rode to her destination, she avoided the unwanted gaze of strange men who made her arm hairs prickle. She made a mental note to get her car out of the garage more often so she could skip the fiasco that was her commute. She paid handsomely for the parking spot beneath her studio, but rarely got her car out, citing it too big of a hassle. But with eyes burning into her for all the completely wrong reasons, Mia decided the hassle was worth it.

              Mia was glad that Feathers wasn’t busy when she arrived. It was a Tuesday evening, but one could never tell with New York. Feathers wasn’t a dive, but it wasn’t exactly a hip spot to be. It was warm and homely for Mia and Lora, probably because they’d both bartended there in college. It was where they had met, two NYC transplants with big dreams. Mia had only worked at Feathers a few months before switching to a much grittier bar that homed a stage for musicians, birthing her career in the music industry. Lora stayed longer, working at Feathers her entire junior and senior year of college. She now worked as an adjunct professor at New York University where they both had studied, teaching colonial American history.

              Mia found Lora nestled in a wooden booth near the rear of the bar, her laptop open and a stack of papers beside her. Lora was soft and pretty, her brown hair almost always pulled back. She wore dark framed glasses that she often pushed back when she was nervous or afraid. Her features were all round and curved, her nose naturally upturned. Among papers, flush with academia, was her natural state. That’s what Mia liked about Lora. No matter where she was, no matter what she was doing, the girl always made the space hers.

              As soon as the bartender noticed Mia walk in, he prepared her drink, sliding it in front of her almost as soon as she sat down across from Lora.

              “Thanks, Pete,” Mia nodded. “Just a heads up, I’m probably going to need three more before the nights over with… and maybe a pitcher of your cheapest tap for good measure.”

              He laughed and walked away, and Mia’s attention focused on the Long Island Ice Tea in front of her, taking a long drink while Lola shut her laptop and asked, “Long day?”

              Mia nodded and came up for air, “
Oh yeah
.”

              “You can’t leave me with just that.”

              “I need some booze in me before I say anything else.”

              Lora’s eyes grew big, “That bad, huh? Did your meeting at Ward Industries flop?”

              “Yes,” Mia admitted. “And no.”

              “Come on!” Lora groaned, exasperated.

              “I was standing in the lobby of the building waiting on Tyler, per usual, and some asshole rammed into me knocking my purse out of my hand. So I bent over to pick all my stuff up and I felt this hand on my hip. When I turned around, I came face to face with possibly
the
most attractive… delicious… scrumptious… sexy man I’ve ever come into contact with.”

              “And this is bad?” Lora’s eyes flashed with humor.

              “It’s bad when that person is Benson Ward.”

              “He
is
delicious!” Lora reeled with a slight gasp. “Benson Ward touched you?”

              “He did more than that,” Mia grinned wickedly, then took another sip from her drink. “The man is a wonderful kisser.”

              “I don’t see how this constitutes a bad day. Unless you didn’t get venue?”

              “Oh, I got it. I have to call Grant tomorrow, which I’m not happy about,” She frowned at the thought. “Why I feel the need to nurse a few long islands is because I can’t have Benson Ward. He’s a business associate now.”

              “Puh-lease,” Lora rolled her eyes. “You need to get over that.”

              “I’ve had far too many people already accuse me of sleeping my way into the industry,” Mia’s fingers clenched her glass at thought. “Grant was a bad idea. Aaron was a bad idea. I’m not going to give it another chance.”

              Mia wasn’t a saint. She’d skirted from Connecticut to New York the day she graduated high school. It had pained her to stick around a second after her eighteenth birthday, but she had NYU waiting for her in a few months, and she wouldn’t mess it up by running away again. Not until she could secure a dorm to sleep in and a future to look forward to. She brought some of her more reckless habits with her to New York, leaving behind a dirty past she hated to think of. Those habits got her involved with bad boy musician, Aaron Hart. His band was the first she managed. And when they got rocky, the band did too. It took an overdose to wake her up. She left Aaron and straightened up, focusing on her education and career. She lucked into a few other management positions. It wasn’t until she met Grant Bell, a few years older and a hell of a lot wiser, that she really got her foot into the door. It was his help, their relationship that made the industry talk. When they broke up she swore never to get the fuzzy lines between business and pleasure mix again, even if the pleasure was delicious.

              Two hours and two long islands later, Mia was nursing a hearty drunk as she stood in the middle of her studio. Just under a thousand square feet, her apartment was considered big for the location. Mia had been at the place for years, loving the mixture of exposed brick and industrial lighting. It was cozy, and it was hers. The kitchen was nestled near the door, featuring stainless steel appliances and butcher block countertops. Though there was an island to match, Mia also had a small, round glass dining room table pressed near a window. She had painted the walls not covered in brick a dark blue, loving the way the color contrasted with the old brick and the white molding that lined the floors and ceilings. The studio featured hardwood, which Mia enjoyed thoroughly, though she nestled her queen sized bed on top of a rug so her feet were never cold in the mornings. Her tiny home was full of blues, whites, and greens. Like everything else in her life, her home was orderly and tidy.

              Even drunk, Mia carried her principles of tidiness. She opened her wardrobe and slid her pumps off, putting them back in their assigned spot. She stripped out of her clothes and carefully put them in the hamper, hidden in the bathroom. Naked, she padded across the studio into the kitchen. She’d only turned the lamp next to her couch on when she’d gotten home, and the light that burst from the refrigerator stung her eyes. Steadying herself, Mia pulled out a tiny grease stained cardboard box. She flipped it open and shoved a two day old, cold piece of pepperoni pizza in her mouth. In almost a zombie-like state, she put the empty box back in the fridge and crossed the studio again, flicking the lamp off in the process.