ARROGANT PLAYBOY (7 page)

BECKHAM

“We’re staying at Golden Oak,”
I announce as Odessa climbs into the black Town Car my brother sent to pick us
up from the airport. Bronson loads our luggage before shutting our door and
climbing up front. A few minutes later, we’re speeding down the freeway toward
his expansive country estate. I was always the city mouse. He was always meant
to be a country mouse of the rich, reclusive variety.

“I thought we had a hotel
reservation?”

“We did. Dane cancelled it. He
wants to host us at his place.” I turn my phone on, my screen blowing up with
missed emails and messages. Another topless selfie from my latest admirer mixes
somewhere between all those. I delete it, but not before taking a peek. I’ve
never claimed to have the self-control of a saint.
 

“That’s nice of him.”

“He likes to control everything.”

“And you don’t?” She chuckles.

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re obsessed with
controlling what people think of you,” she says. “You want everyone to like you
but only on your terms. That’s controlling.”

I glance up from my phone, two
seconds from reminding her that she agreed to be kind during this trip. She
wears a smile that lights up her emerald eyes, and it’s nearly identical to the
one she wore the first night we met. For a second my heart hammers, and I
forget we’re on completely different pages.

“Insulting someone while
smiling,” I say, “isn’t the same as being cordial.”

Her chin tucks, dragging a
curtain of shiny auburn hair over her shoulder as she sighs. “You’re right. I’m
sorry.”

I struggle to decide whether
her apology is genuine, sarcastic, or a combination of the two. She looks at me
from the corner of her eye before shifting her entire body my way.

Her slanted hand juts out a
second later.

“Truce,” she says. “Let’s call
a truce. At least for the next four days. I’ll stop making snide comments and
you stop trying to get under my skin. We’ll play the roles of two cordial
associates who’ve never slept together.”

I chuckle. Interacting with her
while attempting to forget how fucking sexy she looked straddling my cock last
week is going to be a challenge.

Her eyes close, and she takes a
deep breath. It’s almost as if she has to psyche herself up to be nice. All it
does is make me want that upper hand even more. She still fucking has it. She’s
a goddamn dog refusing to let go of a stolen bone.

I meet her hand, my thumb
grazing the delicate bone in her wrist. Her hands are softer than I remember.

The Town Car pulls into the
private gate of Golden Oak. The driver presses the call button and within
seconds the gate opens. We’re deposited under a majestic porte-cochere built
with two stories of honed Brazilian granite Dane flew south of the equator to
personally select. Every inch of this estate has Dane’s stamp of approval.
Visiting here, as much as I loathe Utah and what it represents to me, always
serves as a solemn reminder of what we’ve achieved in the last decade.

“
Bienvenue!
” Mathilde, my brother’s house manager greets us along
with a tuxedoed butler. It always amuses me how my reclusive brother prefers to
have a staff of eight at his beck and call while preferring to remain alone in
his spare time. I can hardly spend an hour without some kind of social
interaction yet I prefer to keep my penthouse employee-free.

The world couldn’t handle two
of me anyway. Dane would venture to say the same.

“Hello, Mathilde,” I help Bronson
unload luggage and wheel Odessa’s bag around the car. “Mathilde, this is
Odessa. She’s consulting for TEH. I assume Dane told you she was staying?”

“
Oui
.” Mathilde smiles as if the auburn-haired beauty standing
before her is enchanting. “The rooms are ready. We’re happy to have you.”

Odessa leans in and kiss-kisses
Mathilde’s cheeks, taking her hands. “Very lovely to meet you, and thank you
for accommodating us. I look forward to my stay at Golden Oak.”

We follow Mathilde up a winding,
mahogany staircase, one I’ve traveled many times, until we reach a quiet hall opposite
of my brother’s wing.

“Here you are,
mademoiselle
.
Monsieur
King
, your room
is next door. Press the call button if you need me.” Mathilde disappears into
the dark hall.

“Sure beats the Hampton Inn.”
The corner of Odessa’s mouth pulls up. I don’t think she’s being facetious, but
it’s so fucking hard to tell with her.

“Unpack. Freshen up if you’d
like,” I say. “I’ll come get you before we head downtown. Dane has meetings planned
for us the rest of the afternoon.”

***

“What’s your brother like?”
Odessa asks as we’re driven to headquarters an hour later. “In person, I mean.”

“Intense.” I straighten my tie.

“Just…intense?”

“Yes.”

“He can’t be that bad. He
seemed nice on the phone.”

“He’ll be impressed with you.”

“I’m not worried about him
liking me. Not everyone has to like me.” Her hand flies to mine as if the
gesture could possibly soften her words. “And I don’t mean that in a snide way,
Beckham. I’m just saying. I’m comfortable with who I am.”

“I’m pretty sure you made that
clear when you were prancing around my bathroom naked, finger-brushing your
teeth.”

She laughs, dragging her hand
off mine and leaving a cool vacancy in its place. “I try not to care what
people think of me. It’s none of my business.”

“And yet you work in PR, where
you’re constantly manipulating the way people perceive things.”

“Don’t think you’re the first
person ever to point that out.”

She tucks a strand of hair
behind her ear, revealing a tiny diamond stud. I never noticed it before. I was
too fixated on appreciating the way her hips sway when she walks or too busy
looking for a hint of a smile on her pink lips to pay attention to the little
things. There’s a freckle on the side of her cheek too: a small, lonely freckle
in a sea of flawless, creamy skin. The tiniest hint of a bump in the profile of
her nose catches my eye. She isn’t a boring, classic beauty, but she doesn’t
need to be. She’s soft edges and dynamite, and that sets her apart from the polluted
sea of cut-and-paste beauties back home.

Twenty minutes later, we’re strolling
down the hallway toward the double mahogany doors that’ll deliver us to my
brother. I burst in without so much as a knock, knowing full well how much he
hates that.

“Dane,” I say.

He glances up, not startled in
the least. He’s used to my tricks I suppose. His gaze lands on Odessa, and he straightens
his posture before rising.

“Dane, pleasure to finally meet
you.” Odessa goes to him, her hand extended and a radiant smile on her face.

She’s never smiled at me that
way.

“Thanks for coming all the way
to Utah,” Dane says. He speaks to her but gifts me a curious glance. If I know
my brother he’s trying to decide if I’ve fucked her yet. “I hope the flight was
at least somewhat enjoyable.”

“It was a lovely flight. Thank
you,” she says, though she may as well be curtseying at this point. Apparently
Dane’s royalty, and I am the lowly jester.

“Maureen has the conference
room set up.” My brother points at the door. We follow.

“This must be new.” I point to
an oil painting of Dane that looks more like a caricature than a portrait.
“Commissioning art now, are we?”

“You won’t find it as a line
item,” he states. “It was a gift.”

“Not good enough to hang next
to your Renoir at Golden Oak?” I razz.

He never used to be so goddamn
pretentious. Success does something to a man. It’s an unstoppable catalyst.
 

Odessa spreads her things out at
the end of the conference table, taking the chair on Dane’s right.

“Oh, Dane.” Casual excitement
colors her tone. “Beckham and I are flying to Vermont next week. He’ll be
leading a town hall meeting with Charity Falls and answering questions for an
interview that’ll go in their Sunday paper. Front page.”

Her body mirrors his.
Apparently I’m made of cellophane.

“You didn’t tell me it was
going to be front page,” I interject. Not that it matters. It doesn’t.

“This project is kind of a big
deal there.” She turns to me, sticking the end of a capped pen between her pink
lips before pointing it at me. “This interview is a
huge
deal. They’re going to try and use your words against you,
analyzing the town hall meeting to come up with pointed questions.”

“No pressure.” Dane tenses his
jaw.

“I can handle this.” I take a
seat on my brother’s left, but not before removing my jacket and draping it
over the back of my chair.

“The last thing we need is
negative publicity,” Dane grips a pen between his thumb and forefinger,
twisting it back and forth. “We have several major deals in the works. Some
just waiting on signatures. It could all change if our image is slaughtered
because of Charity Falls.”

“Exactly.” Odessa chimes in,
speaking with her hands. “This is the kind of story that goes viral. Today Show
picks it up, Facebook sticks it in their sidebar, Reddit gets ahold of it…”

“You act like this is the
Keystone Pipeline.” I groan, burying my head in my hands. “They’re wind towers
for fuck’s sake.”

“The fact that he doesn’t see
the significance of this is what concerns me,” Odessa turns to Dane, cutting me
out of the conversation once again.

“Agreed.” Dane furrows his brow
as he mirrors her posture. They’re locked in some kind of silent conversation,
I’m sure. Communicating telepathically like they share a goddamned brain.

The room is hot. I unbutton my
collar, as she tilts her head and smiles at him.

“Don’t worry, Dane. I’ll feed
Beckham some handcrafted lines that’ll quell this little story before it picks
up any more steam.” Odessa places her hand over his, and he doesn’t flinch.

I’m not sensing a sexual
attraction between them. But they click. Genuine, mutual respect filters back
and forth between them, taking shape in quiet smiles and easy nods.

Just a couple of fucking pals.

“Anyway.” I clear my throat,
rising to grab bottled water from the fridge in the back of the room. “Next
order of business?”

Or first order, really.

It’s not like Dane to allow
someone else to run the show. Shit, he barely allows me. I have to claw my way
up and prove that I’m not some haughty playboy without a care in the world. I
give a damn about this company. It’s my “baby” too. I’ve just mastered the art
of conducting myself without a giant stick up my ass.

My brother drones on about a
couple of clients he’s been wooing on the West Coast, while I’ve been busy
romancing the Peterson Corporation. I assure him the Peterson contract is in
the bag, and we’re just waiting on the board to meet and take their final vote.

“Oh, here.” Odessa perks up,
typing into her tablet. “We have the preliminaries for the test site if you
want to go over it now?”

She whips the screen around,
only I can’t see it from where I’m seated. Dane’s eyes adjust and his bottom
lip juts out as he scrutinizes.

“Is this something we can
discuss tomorrow?” I glance at my watch, my stomach damn near echoing. I
haven’t eaten in several hours. “I’m going to grab a bite to eat.”

And call some old friends
because I’ll be damned if I sit around Golden Oak tasting Scotch and smoking hand-rolled
cigars by the fountain that depicts torch-carrying Goddess Demeter.

That was Dane’s idea of a guy’s
night last time I was in town…

“Remember we’re having dinner
with Uncle Leo,” Dane says.

“I wasn’t aware that was
tonight,” I say.

“We’re meeting at six.” Dane
checks his wristwatch. “Sam, you’re welcomed to join. It’s a casual dinner at
an old diner outside of town. I’ve given my kitchen staff the night off. You’ve
been traveling all day. You deserve a decent meal.”

“I don’t want to impose,” she
says.

“Uncle Leo would love to meet you.”
Dane offers a warm smile. “Please. I insist.”

Odessa’s eyes search mine then
return to Dane’s.

“Yes. Please.” I stand,
swinging my jacket off the back of my chair. “You can sit by me.”

She ignores me, gathering her
things. “Sure. I’ll join if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Dane retrieves
her pen. “And Sam, if you’d like to put your things in office thirty-four, it
should be unlocked. Key’s in the door. It’s all yours while you’re here.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” She heads
toward the door.

“Meet us at the elevator in a
half hour,” Dane calls after her. He steps closer to me the second she’s out of
earshot. “What the hell was that?”