Devoted: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella (7 page)

“Hey, don’t talk about her that way.” His anger flared.

“What?”

“How about we keep the sexual harassment to a minimum and just say she’s tough?” He couldn’t explain to his CEO that he was kind of involved with their biggest rival and now he wanted to punch Curt’s nose through the back of his face because he’d called her a bitch. She wasn’t a bitch. She was tough and smart. That made her good in his book.

Unless she was setting him up. It occurred to him that planting someone like this Paulsen guy could put them in a bad position. He could also say anything he wanted, feeding them false information and causing chaos. If the employees knew there was a spy hunt, it could demoralize the entire company and they would lose some of their best talent.

It would be a sneaky play.

“Ray Paulsen is also suing her,” Flynn stated flatly. The jury was still out on whether this was a ploy of Amy’s or her way of figuring him out. He wasn’t sure and he wasn’t going to push it. Things were going well between them right now. Eventually he was going to sit her down and explain that he’d known who she was all along and they needed to come to an agreement on how to end this feud.

If she wasn’t here to take the fight to a whole different level.

“That’s not on us,” Curt replied. “That’s on him. He’s the one who stands to lose. Listen, let me put him on the payroll for a few weeks and see what shakes out. I’ll talk to him and that’s all it has to be. We gather some information and find out what’s happening over there. Consider it a fact finding mission.”

He made it sound so reasonable. “No. We don’t need spies.”

“You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re not that naïve, Flynn. You do understand two of the people she fired after she took over had been plants from your father. He knew what it took to do business these days.”

He’d known his father was ruthless. “I’m not my dad. I don’t want to play like that.”

“So you’re willing to let Slaten send spies in here. Look, we’re in the middle of negotiations to buy a company that will make your pet project work, right? If we can’t get the infrastructure to ensure we’re capable of selling that software, it’s utterly useless.”

He didn’t need a lecture. “I expect you to be smart enough to buy the company. What can Slaten do?”

“Slaten can find out what our bid is and outbid us,” Curt pointed out. “They can do any number of things. If there’s a spy on the team negotiating they can tank the entire process. Look, I called you as a courtesy to let you know what I’m planning on doing. I’ve got an ironclad contract so unless you want to pay me my salary and the guaranteed ten million you’ll owe me if you fire me, you should let me do my job.”

“Is he strong-arming you?” Mitch asked, his loafer tapping against the marble floor. “Because we can get rid of him.”

For a ton of money and he would have to go back to California and run the damn thing himself while he put on another exhaustive search for a CEO. He would have to leave the training program.

He would have to leave Amy and he wouldn’t have the chance to figure her out. Wasn’t that meaningful, too?

If he wanted to go up against the CEO, he would have to get the board together and they would have to vote. A no confidence vote against Hamilton could potentially trigger his contract based on whether it was on philosophy or incompetence.

If the board would vote his way. The board was still from his father’s era. They would likely be all for Hamilton’s maneuvers.

Frustration welled inside him. It was his fucking company and he was in a corner. “You be careful with this. Do you understand me?”

A sigh of blatant relief came over the line. “I’m going to let security handle it, and if Mitch wants to come over and talk to Paulsen himself, I think that might be a good idea. He’s got a great sense for telling bullshit from the truth. I’m not trying to cause trouble here. I know you’re sensitive to the way your dad conducted business, but he was right to treat Slaten like an enemy. I don’t think you understand how far the Slatens were willing to go to fuck with your dad.”

“Do you know why? My father never talked about it with me.” It was a mystery to him.

“I think it was personal. The rumors are at one point your father might have embarrassed Slaten or something. He held a grudge and it looks like his daughter is carrying on the family tradition.”

There were still problems with Hamilton’s plan. “Paulsen’s a disgruntled employee. I don’t think we can count on him to be honest about the woman who fired him.”

“Flynn, I know that you want to be an idealist and stay above the fray. That’s precisely why you hired me. I also know that eventually you’re going to want to sell this company and start your own. Let me do my job. Let me get you the best price we can get so you can start with more than enough money to be the businessman you want to be. I knew your father. He would want that for you. He had to get down in the mud and fight it out so you wouldn’t have to.”

The man was saying all the right things. “Like I said, be careful. Send me an update.”

He hung up the phone.

Mitch groaned. “This is why I don’t want to run that fucking company. Look, how do you want to handle this? If you’re unhappy with Hamilton, we pay him and get his ass out of here. I can get the board votes for you.”

He was so close to beta testing his software. So fucking close. It would be exactly what Hamilton had said. If they could get the infrastructure in place, they could sell it and then everyone would make a ton of money. If Chase wanted to run the company, Flynn would pass it happily off to him. If he didn’t, Flynn would likely have enough money that he could be free.

“He says you can come up and talk to him,” Flynn explained. “He’s going to be careful. He says this guy might know something about what Slaten is planning in the next few months.”

“And if he’s lying?”

“At least we’ll know we looked into it.” He was suddenly tired. “Is he right? Am I being idealistic?”

“Probably, but you have good intentions. Look, keep those good intentions going with Amy. You like the girl. That’s obvious. She’s not her father, but that doesn’t mean she won’t do what it takes to protect her business and it also doesn’t mean she’s not somewhere sitting in her office and having to listen to a million different voices telling her what to do. Just like you are. She’s got a board to answer to and I’m not sure they’re in the best position financially right now. I can say that because it’s merely an opinion. I’m no longer her advisor in any way. But I watch the markets and I listen. Her father isn’t giving up. He’s hell-bent on causing trouble. Amy’s got to prove her worth or that board will oust her.”

“You think she wants to prove her worth by taking our contracts?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”

There was a very good reason for that. “Because the minute I do that, I can no longer learn anything about her. Right now she thinks I don’t know who she is.”

“Does it matter? You can’t negotiate with her unless you’re honest.”

“This is more than fucking business, Mitch.” The words exploded in a wave of frustration. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to admit that. Not really.

“You want her.”

He turned and stared out the ceiling-to-floor glass windows. They offered him a phenomenal view of the city. At night he could swear he was all alone in the world.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore and that wasn’t strictly about being lonely. He wanted her.

“I think I could care about her, but I need time.”

“All right,” Mitch conceded, “but I’m going to look into this and I’m going to oversee everything Hamilton does.”

His cell phone trilled. He frowned as he realized it was the number for the Dallas Police Department. His stomach flipped and he prayed Chase wasn’t in trouble again. He’d done so well for so long.

He picked it up and slid his thumb across the screen to accept. “Hello?”

“Flynn, I’m in trouble. Can you help me?” It was a soft, familiar voice. One that played through his dreams lately.

He was out the door in a flash.

* * * *

Amy pushed the still damp hair out of her face and wished she was seeing his condo under better circumstances. “I’m all right. You could have taken me home.”

The elevator doors opened but not to some hallway. They were suddenly in his home and it was spectacular. She hadn’t realized he was a man of quite these means.

She had a very lovely apartment close to her sister’s building, but she’d had to downsize. She’d put a lot of her money back into Slaten, trying to buy up stock so she had a firmer hold on her own damn company.

Fighting the board was beginning to make her weary. They all wanted something from her. Most of all they wanted to tell her how much better things had been when her father had been in charge.

They didn’t give a crap that he’d been ready to sell them all out. They only knew they weren’t making as much cash as they had when her father had been there cheating every employee and cooking the books.

Flynn held the elevator door open for her. “You were in an accident. You need someone to watch you.”

The ER doctor had been overly protective. Very likely because her sister was married to the head of Neurosurgery. “I had every test known to man run on me. They all came back fine. It was a little fender bender. Nothing more.”

“Not according to the cops. That asshole hit you from behind and you ended up in the oncoming lane. You could have died.”

“Well, that dumbass was texting his girlfriend, not trying to kill me. I’m fine.” It had been a hell of a horrible day. She’d been sitting there minding her own business and waiting for the light to turn green when teenaged nitwit had rear-ended her so hard she’d drifted into the oncoming lane. “You’re really doing far too much. I called because my cell was wrecked and unfortunately the police officer didn’t know my sister’s number.”

When he’d asked she’d realized she relied far too much on speed dial. She’d looked down at the phone and there had been no Bridget page.

She couldn’t remember her own sister’s cell but she’d known Flynn’s. She’d stared at his stupid number on her phone after he’d given it to her and somehow it had imprinted on her brain. He’d been the only number she could remember. She’d felt so dumb when she’d called him, but he’d been a trooper.

His eyes narrowed as he led her inside. “Yes, we’ll have a talk about that in the morning.”

“Talk about what? Oh, is this a Dom thing? You’re using your Dom voice on me.” It was a deep, rich voice that he only seemed to find when they were at the club or when she made the mistake of opening her own car door. That was a no-no for Flynn.

“Yes, it’s a Dom thing. We have a contract. Do you remember what that contract states very plainly?”

She searched her memory. They’d gone over contracts on the first night and then the second class, she and Flynn had negotiated one of their own. It had been super fun. Just watching the man try to figure out how to ask about water sports had been more than enough reason to do the entire class. He’d seemed relieved that she wasn’t into getting peed on as an aphrodisiac. She’d thought about drawing it out but decided it would be best to be honest. So what was he upset about tonight?

He’d been a perfect gentleman. He’d shown up at the ER and taken care of absolutely everything. He’d talked to her sister—after calling around and figuring out what her number was. Then he’d dealt with her brother-in-law, who had shown up in scrubs and intimidated all his ER peeps. Will had called Flynn out to the hallway where they’d seemed to have some Dom to Dom discussion about her care that had ended up with her here.

At least now she understood how Flynn was connected to Sanctum. He was Mitch Bradford’s half brother. Mitch had been the lawyer who made sure the vote on the night of her wedding had been by the books. He’d been so different from Flynn. When Flynn wasn’t a jealous ass, he was ridiculously sweet and attentive.

Now, though, he looked very stern. Unfortunately, it looked damn fine on him. He was all dominant and masculine. Very authoritative. He would make a stern teacher to play schoolgirl with.

Mr. Flynn, I seem to have forgotten my homework. And my underwear.

“Yes, it’s a Dom thing. Our contract states plainly that you are to call me if you find yourself in need or in trouble. You are to ensure that you’re out of danger. If you need to call the police, you can do that first, but after the immediate threat is over, I’m the first person you contact.”

“I thought that was if I was like being stalked or got mugged or something. The text dude wasn’t threatening after the accident. I think he peed his pants a little.”

There were times when it was obvious he didn’t find her sarcasm charming. “You could have been killed. So we’re going to have a serious discussion about that infraction, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re going to go and take a shower and I’m going to order Chinese food, and then we’re going to sit on the couch and watch TV and I’m going to calm down. Stay here and I’ll get things started for you.”

He stalked toward the back of the condo.

He might be more upset than she was. She’d been scared when she’d realized she was out of control, but then she’d been okay. She’d talked to the driver of the other vehicle and made sure everything was all right with him. She’d done what she normally did. She’d taken control of the situation in a calm and reasonable fashion.

Flynn had shown up and taken care of her when she’d been hurting and scared. He’d rushed into her ER room and he’d taken her hand in his and she’d known she could relax.

It had been a rough week, but when she’d needed him, he’d been there.

Maybe it was time to reassess their situation. Since the first night he’d shown absolutely no signs of being a nasty prick. Had he been honest with her? Had she thrown him off balance?

The truth was she had so little time with him when she thought about it. The class lasted six weeks and they were done with one of them. If he hadn’t been such a jerk that first night she probably would already be sleeping with him.