Thrust: Bad Boy Racing Romance (Fastlane Series Book 2) (9 page)

I had to refocus.

During a pause in the conversation, I nodded, “I understand what you’re saying. You’re right. Both of you. I don't have the contract signed yet. I’m working on it. That’s all I can do right now.”

I didn’t expect that argument to go far with either of them, but of everyone in the firm, I had the best opportunity to close the deal. I was quite sure they knew that. Yet, if this meeting showed me anything, it was that I needed to redouble my efforts.

The investment banking world is all about performance. If you don’t perform, you’re
out
. I was crystal clear that my future with the firm, including my chance at a partnership, hinged on my ability to make this happen. The next five or ten minutes were largely forgettable. Bernard and Leopold reiterated their position - over and over and over. I paid their criticisms lip service – there really wasn’t much else for me to do at this point.

“Dani,” Bernard said at last, drumming his fingers on the table top. “As you know, Leopold and I are going back to New York tonight. Are you coming back with us, or do you feel you should remain behind?”

Without hesitating, I shook my head. I had no reason to believe Marco was any closer to signing a deal with us than he was when we met with him. Staying in Monaco… It would be a waste of time. But, just when I was about to accept their invitation, I heard my cell phone chime and vibrate inside of my purse.

“Excuse me,” I said, reaching in my bag and removing it. “This will only take a second.”

Just then, the waitress approached and distracted the two of them long enough for me to check my message. It was Marco.

Come to my place. 2nyt. 8. Do u need me 2 send a car?

Hooding my eyes, I glanced up to see if either Bernard or Leopold were paying attention to me. They weren’t. I texted Marco back with a series of quick strikes,
clacking
my nails on the phone's tiny keyboard.

No. I can get there. C u then.

I slid my phone back in my purse. The waitress walked away and Bernard looked at me.

“Where were we, Dani?”

“New York…”

“Yes,” Bernard responded, snapping his fingers. “Will you be coming with us?

For a split second, I considered telling them about Marco’s invitation but then thought better of it. I’d keep the meeting under wraps. I already knew where they stood on the issue.

I shook my head.

“No, I’m going to stay behind for a day or two. I haven’t had any time off in months. I’ll take a flight back in a couple of days.”

Bernard eased back in the booth and grimaced.

“Dani,” he said, exhaling at the same time. “Leopold and I believe in you. We think that you have a lot to offer the firm and we are looking forward to the opportunity to extend partnership to you.”

I nodded. There was no point getting into a long debate about it and I actually didn’t disagree with them. It was time for me to close the deal and I should have pushed for it the night before.

I had no intention of making the same mistake twice.

Even so, he continued, driving his point home for emphasis. “You’re going to have to make serious progress here. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” I replied. “Crystal.”

Not long after, we said our goodbyes, and although they were polite, I was certain that the clock on their offer was ticking. I watched them walk away until both of them disappeared from sight. There had never been a time in my life when I’d had more on my mind than I did at that moment. But even with my concern over the deal with Marco, and even my own future, all of a sudden I found myself thinking about…

Serena.

I couldn’t explain why. I had no idea. Outside of our brief encounter at Marco’s penthouse, I’d forgotten about her, until now. But, knowing I’d see him again, for some strange reason the memory of her breakdown spilled into my awareness. Who was she? And
why
did she feel the need to warn me about Marco’s inability to love?

The situation I was in with Marco had nothing to do with love,
nothing whatsoever
. Still, I had a hard time ridding my mind of her grief. At the most basic level, my job required me to be a student of human behavior. Since joining, I’d been in my share of high pressure, high dollar negotiations. As a result, I felt as though I’d become a pretty accurate judge of people. In other words, I had a well-tuned bullshit detector
.

And that’s what made Serena’s outburst so memorable. It seemed more than authentic, like it came from the core of her being. It’s hard to fake emotion like that - impossible really. In sharp contrast, Marco’s indifference stood in stark contrast to her despair. Perhaps that was the most troubling aspect of all. Even in our brief time together, I’d already seen that aloof, almost dark part of his personality.

Just then, the waitress appeared.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

Her words snapped me out of my trancelike state. Looking up at her, I shook my head.

“No. No thank you.”

I watched her walk away. I chewed my lip, shifting my thoughts from Serena to my evening ahead with Marco.

DANI

I arrived at Marco’s penthouse about five minutes early. I stopped just short of the door, reached in my purse and pulled out my compact. After a quick check in the mirror, I knocked. Not long after, I heard the sound of Marco’s footsteps. A couple of seconds later, the front door opened and Marco appeared.

“Dani…” He said, smiling at me. “I um, just got home a few minutes ago.”

He stepped to one side.

“Please. Come in.”

Marco wore a slate blue suit, custom-tailored to his lean frame. He’d removed the necktie and unfastened the first couple of buttons of his crisp, white shirt. It was just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his pecs beneath it. I swallowed hard and averted my eyes, careful not to stare for long.

“Thank you,” I said, walking inside of the house. “Do you usually wear a suit?”

Marco shut the door. The lock snapped shut with a heavy click. He walked by me, replying to my answer at the same time.

“No, not usually, no. I had a meeting with the trust attorneys for my father’s estate and afterward some team matters to handle.”

I swiveled my head, watching him walk away from me. At the same time, I peeked in the direction of the couch where Serena had sat the night before. To my relief, Marco and I looked to be alone.

“I was just about to make myself a cocktail, Dani. Can I get you anything?”

I began to walk, following him into the living room.

“Sure. That sounds good.”

A few seconds later, Marco made his way towards a small bar area, tucked away in a corner.

“Dirty martini?” he asked, winking at me.

Thinking back to the previous evening, I rolled my eyes. I’d had one too many. Tonight, I needed my wits about me, more than anything.

“Yes, um, but easy on the vodka.”

Marco chuckled. “Not a problem.”

With that, I walked up to the bar and took a seat in one of the stools lining the front of it. While I did, Marco cracked open the vodka and with a flurry of pours and a couple of scoops of fresh ice, started to make our drinks.

While I waited, I glanced behind the bar, and something caught my attention. It looked to be a strongbox and an old one at that. Perplexed, I frowned while I looked at it. It seemed to be out of place among the contemporary decor of his penthouse. I took a quick peek in Marco’s direction.

He hadn’t seen me looking at it.

While he finished making our cocktails, I glanced in the direction of the box again. Beyond its obvious age, the ornateness of it fascinated me. It was exquisite and from the looks of it made by hand. The box itself appeared to be covered in thick, black leather, the tops and sides of it wrapped in a latticework of iron and brass. Facing me, in the front, were several locks. A series of small holes in the box surrounded them. I cast a final glance towards it, noticing some oversized brass keys resting on top.

Just then, Marco approached.

“Here you go,” he began, sliding my drink across the bar with a gentle nudge. “I hope it’s not too strong for you.”

I reached it, wrapping my fingers around the icy glass. After taking a sip, I nodded. “No, this is perfect. Sorry, I’m not much of a drinker.”

Marco shrugged.

“I’m not either. I only really have a chance to do it in the off-season.”

I set my drink down. Marco leaned against the bar, looking at me. Nothing about his behavior suggested he saw me looking at the box. Even so, I found my curiosity getting the better of me. I picked up my cocktail again and took a quick sip, summoning my courage. I pointed in the direction of the strongbox.

“That… over there,” I began, gesturing with my index finger. “It's very interesting. What’s in it? Is there a story behind it?”

The questions sputtered from my mouth like a bad case of word vomit. Marco raised his eyebrows at me in suspicion. Before answering, he drank. Afterward, he glanced towards it and then at me once again.

“It’s a strongbox.”

I frowned at him.

“Yes, thank you. I can see that it’s a strongbox. It just seems out of place in here, that’s all.”

Marco stood upright, placing his palms flat on the bar and looking down at me.

“Well there’s a good reason for that. It belonged to my father. Aside from money, it was the only thing he left to me in his will.”

“Oh, okay,” I began, nodding while I listened to him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s in it?”

Marco shrugged.

“No, I don’t mind. Actually, I have no idea what’s inside. I just received it a few days ago and haven’t opened it.”

I nibbled at my lip. He seemed completely uninterested.

“Well, I mean, aren’t you curious?”

Marco shook his head. “No, not really. I’ll get around to opening it at some point.”

I had no idea why I was being so nosy. Still, the fact that he was so casual about it… It only made me that much more curious to see what was inside. For all I knew, it could have been something mundane and uninteresting. But, then again…

Without thinking, I blurted out, “Well, why don’t we find out right now? Both of us?”

Marco chuckled and shook his head.

“No,” he replied, putting his drink down on the bar after another swallow. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Dejected, I resorted to begging.

“Pretty please?”

What was a chuckle a minute before turned into a sustained, deep, belly laugh from him. When he finished, Marco lifted his chin in my direction.

“Forget about the strongbox, Dani. I don’t want to discuss it. Come with me.”

I exhaled, grimacing at his rejection.

“Okay.” I grumbled.

His refusal complete, Marco walked around the corner of the bar, hooking his hand along the edge of it. I swiveled the barstool to face his direction, getting up and following behind him. He walked towards a large set of sliding glass doors that connected to a long balcony and opened them. I continued behind him, exiting the penthouse.

The night breeze blowing off the Mediterranean wrapped around me, cocooning me in warmth. Below, the streets of Monte Carlo were alive with people and the buzz of traffic. Monaco was a beautiful, glamorous place, and whether I signed the deal with Marco or not, I was going to miss it. I took one last look around before turning my attention to Marco.

Before I could think or react, Marco kissed me.