Exposed (Tropical Nights) (3 page)

Allison snorted, and Rachel noticed with some consternation that she somehow managed to make
even that sound elegant and sophisticated. “That’s pretty sleezy, even for Karen,” Allison said. “What did Hanlon say when you set him straight?”

Rachel was glad Allison couldn’t see how sheepish she looked just then. “Well
…”

“You didn’t correct him?” Allison asked, sounding shocked. “I mean, I probably wouldn’t have, I’m just surprised
you
didn’t.”

“
I would have, but it took me off guard at first, and then he got a phone call and by the time he was done, the moment had passed. Then the meeting was over and I was out the door, and the whole thing was just awkward and uncomfortable.”

“What are you going to do? Are you going to tell him tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course,” Rachel said, sounding more confident than she felt. She was an honest person who didn’t feel comfortable lying, even by omission, and so of course she was going to tell Hanlon the truth. On the other hand, she really needed this story and the potential raise that went with it, and she was worried about him terminating their arrangement before she had a chance to learn even the smallest detail about him. “I’ll tell him tomorrow, although maybe I’ll let him get to know me just a bit before I drop that little bombshell.”

“Why Rachel Hoffman,” Allison said in mock surprise, “I do believe you are turning into a
shady gossip reporter despite yourself.”

“
No, never. I’m going to tell him I just…hey, my stop is coming up. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Rachel hung up the phone, grateful for the excuse to end the conversation. She slipped her phone in her bag and began to gather her things. She always used her time on the subway ride home to compose posts for her economics blog, and so she had her laptop and notes spread out over her lap. She had started the blog after getting laid off from
Economy Today
as a way to keep up her skills in economics writing. She wrote fun posts that wove economic and financial concepts into everyday situations. While her readership wasn’t huge, it was loyal and steadily growing. She loved having the creative outlet and it distracted her from her current state of underemployment.

Rachel put her key in the door of her little third-floor walk-up, wondering what was awaiting her on the other side. It was pretty much as she expected, with her father slouched in the armchair, beer in hand, and Jamie on the couch shouting at the video game he was playing. The already cramped living room was strewn with random things
—Jamie’s shoes and socks, beer and soda bottles, an empty pizza box. Neither man seemed to notice her entrance.

“Hi, dad. Hey, Jamie,” Rachel said.

“Hey, honey,” her father said, giving her a sort of half wave.

Jamie was too engrossed in said game to say anything to her, and Rachel wasn’t even sure if he had heard her. She walked over and stood next to the couch. “How did your interview go this morning, Jamie?” When he didn’t respond, she moved into his field of vision, partially blocking the television and repeated her question.

“Aw, no, sis, look at what you did.” Jamie pointed to the television, where his video avatar was dying in a hail of bullets. He threw the controller onto the couch next to him with a sigh. “What were you asking? The interview?” Jamie shrugged. “It was fine. I mean, it’s just a bar tending job, nothing special. They weren’t offering much pay, I’m not even sure it would be worth it.”

Rachel took a deep breath and tried not to snap at her brother. She loved him dearly, and she knew it had been hard for him ever since their mother died, but
he could be so frustrating. It was just like him to shrug off a perfectly good job because it wasn’t the perfect dream gig. He didn’t seem to understand that with this economy and the family’s financial situation, he didn’t have the luxury of holding out for the perfect job. She had realized that quickly when she was laid off, which was why she had accepted the job at
New York Exposed
. She knew it was better to be underemployed than not employed at all, and so she had taken the less-than-ideal job while she looked for something better.

“Maybe I’ll go back to school instead of getting a job,” Jamie said, “finish my degree.”

“That’s a good idea,” Rachel said encouragingly. “Have you looked at any of the schools here? Researched the programs or looked into scholarships and financial aid?”

“Nah,” Jamie said with a shrug. I’ll look tomorrow. There’s no hurry.” He picked up his controller and started a new video game, clearly bored with the present conversation.

“Listen to your sister,” her father said distractedly, his
gaze never leaving the television screen as he watched Jamie’s game.

Rachel looked from her brother to her father, feeling conflicted. The last few years had been so hard on them, with her mother’s death and her father’s decline in health, and now losing the house. It had all sent her brother adrift and her father spiraling into a depression. Rachel had always been the strong one, the responsible one, the one to choke down her own grief and sadness and carry the weight for the others. They needed her, and she would be there for them, but sometimes it was overwhelmingly frustrating.

“How are you doing, dad?” Rachel asked.

Robert Hoffman finally tore his gaze from the television screen, and Rachel saw his eyes were red-rimmed and cloudy. “I’m fine, baby,” he said softly. “Just feeling a little under the weather today.” He smiled weakly.

“Anything I can get for you?” Rachel asked, though she knew that what her father really needed was beyond her capability to provide. “I can run and get some aspirin or orange juice to help you feel better.”

“No, no,” Robert said. “Jamie and I are headed to the store later to pick up some things, I’ll get what I need then. Right, Jamie?”

“What? Yeah, whatever,” Jamie muttered in between shouts at his video game.

“
If you’re sure you don’t need anything, I have a ton of work to get done for tomorrow, so I’ll be in my room.” It wasn’t
completely
an excuse to be by herself; she really did have a ton of things to do. “You two OK on your own for dinner?”

Her dad and Jamie both nodded, not looking up from the television, and so Rachel grabbed her things and disappeared into her bedroom. She collapsed on her bed, worn out from the day.
She sorted through her notes on Hanlon and thought about her approach for tomorrow. She would need to tell him the truth about her employer, obviously, but maybe she could hold off just long enough until she got a few details and Allison got a picture or two.

Rachel sighed.

She knew that wouldn’t actually work. Her conscience would never let her proceed with the story until she came clean to Mr. Hanlon, which put her in a touchy situation. Karen wanted the story and Rachel needed to give it to her. Rachel simply couldn’t afford to pass up an opportunity for a raise, not with her father and brother depending on her.

Rachel chewed on her lip as she tried to come up with a solution.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a complete disaster. She could try appealing to Hanlon’s ego and convince him that from a publicity perspective,
New York Exposed
would serve his purposes just as well, if not better, than a write-up in
Economy Today
. An
Economy Today
article would focus on the company’s numbers and financial prospects, which was important but not very interesting. It would be technical and, frankly, a bit boring to anyone who wasn’t a business junkie.

N
ew York Exposed
would get him in front of the public, and they would become obsessed with his wealth and sexy good looks—because even Rachel had to admit the man had sex appeal. He had positively oozed confidence and charm in the fifteen minutes she had spent with him. It had hit her like a slap in the face when she walked in his office. Not that she cared or anything, she was quick to remind herself. His looks and charm didn’t matter to her, she was just there for her job. She had to convince him she could write the story that would make the public fall in love with him and his newfound celebrity would be good PR for his company. She couldn’t imagine it would be difficult. Men like him were mostly interested in status and attention anyway. They thrived on it.

That was the solution:
she would simply march into his office tomorrow, appeal to his vanity and ego, and convince him that an article in
New York Exposed
was actually better than one in
Economy Today
. He would agree, she would get her story, and then she would be done with him and this whole complicated mess.

Easy, right?

Chapter Two

Rachel
shifted her heavy computer bag and took deep breaths as she rode the elevator up to Hanlon Enterprise’s lobby. She had practiced her speech over and over until she found the perfect way to explain the confusion over her place of employment. She was sure she had come up with the perfect mix of flattery and appeal to practicality that would convince Leo Hanlon to continue the interview once he knew where she really worked. She would be smooth and confident and he would agree with everything she said before he even knew what hit him. It was perfect.

The elevator reached the thirty-second floor and Rachel stepped out
. She was feeling good. She would head into Hanlon’s office and talk to him right now, and everything would go according to plan. She was sure of it.

“Ah, Ms. Hoffman, you’re here. Good, you can join me in my meeting.”

Suddenly, there was a hand at her elbow leading her down the hall.

“Oh, Mr. Hanlon,” she said, taken off guard.

“Please, call me Leo. I always look around for my father when I hear ‘Mr. Hanlon.’” He looked down at her and smiled, and Rachel felt a little dazzled.

Wow, he was handsome. Not that she cared, of course, but the journalist in her couldn’t dismiss the facts staring right at her. She’d known how attractive he was from his photo, but she hadn’t been prepared for just how jolting it was in person. She had noticed it right away when she saw him yesterday—his tall, imposing presence, how nicely he filled out his expensive suit, how his large, strong hand had all but swallowed hers when he’d offered it in greeting. He had deeply brown eyes that she knew missed nothing, and whenever he spoke to her, he looked at her so intently she felt like no one else existed. His appeal went beyond his looks—he was so confident and assured it was almost as though he exuded power like a tangible object. Rachel knew Leo was a man who had little trouble bending others to his will.

Meeting him yesterday, she had told herself she had noticed those details merely as a journalist studying an interview subject. But now, here, brushing against him as he led her down the hall, she was finding it hard to maintain a disinterested detachment.

“Leo. Right,” she said, finally getting a hold of herself. “And please, call me Rachel.”

What was wrong with her? She was supposed to be launching into her speech, not mooning over him like some schoolgirl with her first crush.

“I have some potential clients here to discuss a contract for a custom jet, and I thought you might want to sit in on the meeting,” Leo said.

Rachel looked at him and smiled. She was standin
g close to him and he was tall—several inches over six feet—so she had to crane her neck to meet his eye. “Absolutely,” she said, trying to sound self-assured and enthusiastic. She would have to wait until after the client meeting to tell him where she worked. She almost sighed in resignation but caught herself in time. This was so not how this was all going to go.

“Here we are,” Leo said as he ushered her into a conference room.

There was an attractive couple already seated at the large table. They looked to be in their fifties, tanned, fit, perfectly coiffed and impeccably attired in expensive looking clothes. Rachel thought they looked exactly like the type of people who would be buying a custom-built private jet.

“Mr. Lakewood. Mrs. Lakewood,” Leo greeted the couple with a smile and a handshake. “This is Ms. Rachel Hoffman, the journalist I told you about who is doing a feature on Hanlon Enterprises. You are still
okay with her sitting in on our meeting?”

“Of course,” Mr. Lakewood said.

Rachel shook hands with the couple and murmured a greeting. Leo led Rachel to a chair opposite the Lakewoods and then seated himself next to her. He handed out several folders and a thick brochure as he asked the Lakewoods what they were looking for in their aerial transportation needs. Rachel took out her notebook and scribbled notes on everything, though it was mostly to keep up pretenses. This was not the sort of meeting that was going to give her the kinds of details
New York Exposed
readers were interested in. Still, it gave her the opportunity to watch Leo work.

Rachel had come into this assignment expecting that Leo would only give the appearance of being involved in the company. She figured someone as young and good-looking as he was would rather spend his time out partying and carousing, not taking meetings with wealthy clients. He didn’t actually have to work, after all. The company and most of its immense profits were his no matter what he did.
He could easily pass of any actual responsibilities to his employees.

It was immediately apparent, however, that he took his
position as CEO very seriously. He knew about every aspect of different models of jets and their assembly process, and he had a quick grasp of all the attendant numbers and financials. But his skill went beyond his technical know-how, Rachel saw. He had his charm turned fully on, and Rachel could see the Lakewoods were entranced. She as glad to know she wasn’t the only one so affected by the force that was Leo Hanlon. Mr. Lakewood was grinning at Leo like he was the son he never had, and Mrs. Lakewood was smiling at him like he was an expensive champagne she wanted to pop open and take a sip of.

The meeting lasted nearly two hours, but by the end, the Lakewoods had selected their jet and signed a contract, and Rachel was beginning to think there was more to Leo than she first thought.
There was clearly some depth and intelligence beneath that impressive exterior, and that realization took her by surprise. She wondered what else she would discover about Leo in the coming days.

After escorting the Lakewoods out,
Leo ushered Rachel back into his office. “So, now that you have a taste of what Hanlon Enterprises does,” he asked as he sat behind his desk, “are you suitably impressed?” He posed the question light-heartedly, with a hint of self-mocking, but Rachel could also hear the pride underlying his words. He was damn proud of his company, as he should be.

“I am,” Rachel answered earnestly. “You have an impressive fleet of jets available.” She glanced down at the brochure listing the plane specs. “
I see you’ve switched from a Tay 650-15 to a 651-54 in most of your mid-size jets. Since they’re almost identical, I’m assuming it’s for the increased thrust?”

Leo looked a little incredulous. “You know about jet engines?”

“My father was an airplane mechanic. He tried to get my brother interested in it, but it turned out I was the one with the aptitude. I used to help him rebuild engines.” She bit her lip to stop herself from adding “before.” As in, she used to help her father back before her mother died, before he stopped working, before he started the long descent into his current state. “You seem surprised.”

“I just wasn’t expecting it. A brilliant financial mind
and
spends her free time up to her elbows in jet engine grease? I’m impressed.”

“What? You were expecting knitting and craft projects?”

Rachel couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the unflappable Leo Hanlon show a brief flash of embarrassment.

“Any other surprises you’re harboring?” Leo
asked, grinning. His confidence was firmly back in place.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait a
nd see.” Rachel had no idea why she’d said that, and said it in such a teasing tone. It wasn’t like her to behave like that. She didn’t tease, she didn’t flirt.
Not
that she was flirting, she thought quickly. She didn’t even know how. It was just that Leo seemed to have a certain unexpected devilish playfulness that peeked out from behind his imposing physical presence and intimidating business acumen, and it made Rachel want to play along.

Well, stop it
, she told herself.
Get a grip
.

She needed to focus on what she was here to do. She cleared her throat and looked down at the brochure. “Maybe you could tell me m
ore about the heavy jets you’re planning to add to your line.”

Leo looked at her for a moment and Rachel felt herself blush. Good God, she hoped her thoughts about Leo and flirting and devilis
hness hadn’t shown on her face. “I’m hoping to expand our fleet to include larger jets with longer ranges,” Leo said, and Rachel could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. He seemed genuinely excited to tell her about his business. “Here, let me show you some of the specs and models.” He walked around desk and led Rachel to a large table at the other end of his expansive office, where several large model jets were displayed.

“Impressive,” Rachel said as she studied the models and looked over the accompanying concept art. The proposed jets were all beautifully designed, with sleek lines and luxurious interiors. “Are you using graphite or fiberglass and carbon for the bulkheads?” she asked as she squinted at the specs.

“You really do know your stuff, don’t you?” Leo asked. “We’re using a mix of materials in the larger models.”

He leaned over the table and pointed out the features of each jet. Rachel tried very hard to concentrate on what Leo was saying, and he was so enthusiastic and engaging, she mostly succeeded. He explained his goals and vision for the new jets and he outlined exactly how he would implement the new designs. Rachel asked him many questions that he answered easily, and only occasionally did her mind wander to the fact that she was standing very close to an extremely attractive man.

“What is the timeline for production?” Rachel asked, trying to ignore the way his arm brushed against hers as he reached over the table to pick up a stack of brochures and spec sheets.

“We will be ready to roll out the HE651 by the end of the year. The other models will take a little longer.” Leo handed her the brochure for the HE651, and when her fingers brushed against his as she took it, it was all she could do not to jump at the contact.

“I’d love to sit down and look through these in detail,” Rachel said as she stepped back from the table. She needed to put a little distance between her and Leo.

“Absolutely. But first, let’s
take a tour of the building. We can talk business portfolios and plane specs as I show you around.”

“
Sounds good.” Rachel welcomed the chance to move away from Leo and head toward his office door, anything to break the awkwardness that was building between them. Or at least, the awkwardness
she
felt. She wasn’t sure Leo was ever awkward or uncomfortable. He didn’t seem the type to flounder in social interactions, and she couldn’t imagine he was having the sort of thoughts about her she was having about him.

They headed down the hall
and Leo put a hand on the small of her back, gently leading her in the right direction. It was a small gesture done in a casual, off-hand way, but his hand was hot against her shirt, and she wondered what it would be like if his fingers brushed against her bare skin. Would she be branded by his heat?

Rachel shivered
at that thought.

“You OK?” Leo asked, looking down at her with an expression of
concern.

“Um, yeah,” Rachel cleared her throat. “Just a little cold.”

It was a perfectly good explanation for her shudder, but it was also a complete lie. Leo’s hand on her back was leaving her feeling anything but cold. In fact, the heat was beginning to radiate out from where he touched her and spread through her limbs.

A grip
, she admonished herself yet again,
get one
.

“Sorry, the office does tend to be cold. Do you need something? Grace usually has an extra sweater or coat with her.”
He dropped his hand from her back.

“No, no, I’ll be fine. Walking around will warm me up.” Walking around next to Leo was
definitely
warming her up.

She groaned inwardly. Wayward and unprofessional thoughts were becomin
g a habit with her it seemed, and she needed to get herself under control. She had to focus on the job and nothing else. Too much was riding on getting the article Karen wanted. Making Karen so happy she gave Rachel a raise meant her father and brother would be taken care of. Screwing up meant they could all be tossed out on the street.

Thinking about Karen and the article she wanted reminded Rachel that she still hadn’t cleared up the matter of her true employer.
Leo had caught her off guard when he intercepted her right off the elevator that morning, and the meeting with the Lakewoods hadn’t given her an opportunity to broach the subject. Now was as good a time as any to bring it up, but her heart pounded at the thought.

She took a deep breath.
She had practiced this. It would be fine. “Leo, there was something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Yes? Oh, watch out.” He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against the wall, his body pressed against hers. A young man had just come around the corner, pushing a cart that was loaded up to his eye level with crates and boxes. Rachel, in her distracted state, had almost walked right into it.

“Sorry!” The young man said as he froze in place. “Didn’t see you, Mr. Hanlon. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Barrett. Maybe just don’t load the cart so high next time.”