Power Play: A Black & White Collection Story (3 page)

That feeling lasted ten minutes into the work day. Then he learned his uncle had fired his marketing partner, replacing the man without his knowledge or input, and his head had nearly exploded off his shoulders.

“I’m drinking coffee, like I do every morning. What the hell are you doing?” His uncle’s condescending tone caused his vision to turn a cloudy red.

Brian had taken him under his wing the day Reed had graduated top of his class in high school. He’d pulled him aside at his graduation party and announced he was paying Reed’s way through college. Told him he’d been accepted to NYU’s School of Business and after he earned his degree, he’d be working off the school loan at his uncle’s successful marketing company, The Donovan Group.

It was still amazing to Reed that he’d never blinked twice at his uncle’s offer, never balked at his controlling gesture. Mainly because it felt as if his uncle had looked into his heart and read his dreams.

Now, for the first time ever, he was starting to reconsider that dream.

“You fired Mitchell? Why the fuck would you do that?”

Brian took a sip of his coffee, moving at a leisurely pace, while Reed paced before his desk, with his fists clenched.

“The man was inept. He cost the company two large bids. I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

Reed grinned, though there was no humor behind the smile. “What I
know
is that we would have won those accounts if you hadn’t sent me off to London to do your dirty work. I should have been here.”

“Maybe.”

His uncle’s softly spoken comment cut through him like a knife. “No. No maybe. I would have landed those bids. Those clients would be ours.”

Brian leaned back in his chair, assuming a position Reed was all too familiar with. His uncle’s silent regard sent his hackles up. Reed was a damn good marketing exec. He knew it, knew his stuff. He knew how to sell products and how to sell his uncle’s company to clients. The fact his uncle had seen fit to put his true talents aside while thrusting him in such a menial job rubbed against the grain—and pissed him off.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Why did you send me to London, Brian? I’m not a goddamned office manager and you know it.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed for just a second and Reed knew his words had hit their mark. Brian never felt beholden to explain his reasoning to anyone. Never.

Unfortunately, rather than respond to his hostile words, his uncle recovered almost immediately and Reed knew he’d never get an answer.

“I needed your skills in London. It’s as simple as that.”

“You needed my skills here. I think those lost bids should prove that to you.” Reed took a deep breath, feeling certain he had scored a point. There was no way his uncle could deny the fact he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“In your absence, it was Mitchell’s job to hold down the fort, represent this company. He failed.”

“Mitchell’s a good marketing man.” Reed wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to stand up for his former partner. They’d never exactly been friends, but they’d worked together amicably enough.

Brian shook his head. “Mitchell was a doormat. He was content to hover in the background, to let you do all the work. He was just lazy and stupid enough to kowtow to your demanding nature. I don’t employ that sort at The Donovan Group. I need people who can stand on their own two feet, think for themselves.”

Reed slammed his fists down on his uncle’s desk, leaned closer. “Mitchell was good at what he did.” Reed didn’t acknowledge that his partner’s so-called strengths were to do the parts of the job he abhorred—the paperwork, the busy work. He’d been little more than a personal assistant, but Reed wasn’t about to admit that fact to his uncle. “We were a successful team, dammit.”

“There was no teamwork involved. Mitchell’s failure to win the last two bids proved that. You did the work, carried the brunt of the thinking and planning. He was simply along for the ride.”

Reed sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes. He didn’t know how to explain to Brian that he preferred it that way. He was used to calling the shots, being in charge. He didn’t relish the thought of trying to break in some fresh-faced hotshot. He was too set it in his ways. “I should have been involved in hiring his replacement. I’m the man who’s going to have to work with this new partner. I should have been included in the interviews, the hiring process.”

“Who owns this company, Reed?”

Reed turned away. Fuck. It was his uncle’s conversation-ending question. Every argument they’d had in the past always ended this way, with that simple question. There was no rebuttal, no denying Brian owned and ruled The Donovan Group in his iron-clad fist.

“Great, Brian. Very enlightening. Thanks so much for clearing up nothing. Can you tell me this at least? Can you tell who the fuckhead is that you’ve hired to replace Mitchell?”

His words were deep, angry and, despite his efforts to shield the emotion, hurt. He’d given his life to The Donovan Group. Worked his ass off to see its continued success.

“Frankie Carlyle.”

Reed stopped in mid-pace. “What?”

Brian leaned forward and Reed could tell by the look on his uncle’s face he thought he was sharing some exciting news. “I stole Frankie Carlyle away from The Wilkerson Team. Think of it, Reed. You and Frankie working together. The Donovan Group will be unbeatable, unstoppable.”

Reed slowly sank into the chair at his back. Tried to wrap his head around the words his uncle was saying. He’d hired the young upstart. Did Brian think Reed wasn’t capable of landing the big deals on his own?

“As you are aware, there are three big bids looming in our future. I want you and Frankie to work together on them.”

Reed closed his eyes, wished there was some way to turn back the last few minutes. Hell, he wished there was a way to turn back the last year. He’d been at odds trying to second guess every decision his uncle had made lately. He felt like he was standing on a crumbling foundation and he couldn’t figure out what the hell he’d done wrong.

“No,” he said at last, looking his uncle in the eye.

Brian reared back, confusion on his face. “No? No what?”

“No, I’m not working with Frankie Carlyle. I’m perfectly capable of landing those bids on my own. Either you believe in me or you don’t, Brian.”

His words seemed to take some of the wind out of his uncle’s sails. Unfortunately, Brian wasn’t a man who stayed down for long.

“You will work with Frankie and it will be a true collaboration. I won’t be drawn into your pissing contests. It’s time you learned to play nice with others in the sandbox.”

Reed stood quickly, overturning the chair on which he sat, his temper at the breaking point. “Play nice?”

“Excuse me,” said a female voice from the doorway. “Your secretary is away from her desk, Brian, so I thought I’d let you know I was here for our appointment.”

Reed turned, ready to eviscerate the woman for interrupting their conversation. His words froze on his lips when he spotted Francesca standing in the doorway.

“You,” he whispered.

He watched her gaze travel from his uncle to him, her eyes widening with shock.

Brian stood and walked across the room, quickly taking her hand. “Frankie. Reed and I were just talking about you.”

“Frankie?” Reed was aware he sounded like a moron, but his lips, his face had gone numb.

“You’re Reed Donovan?” Her astonished tone clued him in to two facts. Number one, she’d heard his name, knew of his reputation. Number two, she hadn’t known who he was last night.

He nodded, quickly scrambling to get his wits back. He’d been losing the battle against his uncle and there was no way he was going to give up any more ground in Frankie’s presence.

Besides, he thought, attempting—and failing—to hide his wolfish grin, this changed everything. Frankie Carlyle was a woman. A woman he’d fucked against the back wall of Carter’s bar last night.

“Brian was just filling me in on the next three bids, the ones we’ll be working on together.”

His uncle’s head jerked toward him, obviously surprised by his sudden change of heart. Brian narrowed his eyes, but Reed merely smiled innocently. For once, he knew something his uncle didn’t. He held the upper hand suddenly and he relished the position. “Isn’t that right, Brian?”

His uncle nodded slowly, suspicion covering his face. “Do you two know each other?”

Frankie shook her head quickly and Reed was thankful for her secretiveness, appreciated the fact she understood they needed to keep their prior acquaintance confidential.

Reed walked forward and reached out his hand to her. “Only by reputation. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Carlyle.”

He stressed the Ms. and watched her stand up straighter. She recovered quickly. Frankie took his hand and he was impressed by the strength of her grip, the steadiness of her hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Donovan. I’ve admired your work for quite some time.”

He smiled magnanimously, the entire façade an act for Brian’s benefit. “Mr. Donovan is Brian’s title. I’m just Reed. So, Frankie? That must be short for—?”

She narrowed her eyes briefly. “Francesca.”

“Pretty name.”

She smirked. “Named after my grandmother.”

Brian moved forward, giving Frankie a firm handshake as well. “Welcome to The Donovan Group, Frankie. I can’t tell you how happy I was to be able to lure you away from that blasted Wilkerson Team. Your talents were wasted there.”

Frankie laughed lightly and Reed had to do a quick adjustment to his pants at the sound of it. Clearly one night in her body wasn’t going to be enough. However, he could tell by the set of her shoulders, the shrewd look in her face, she wouldn’t be an easy mark. He could already imagine her arguments against resuming any sort of affair. Needless to say, she’d try to take the high ground, plead professionalism.

Pity for her, he wasn’t going to make refusal that easy.

Though her attention was focused solely on Brian, Reed would bet his entire retirement fund on the fact that she was perfectly aware of every breath he was taking, every slight movement he made. He adjusted his pants discreetly once more for her benefit. Sure enough, she flushed slightly.

“You made an offer that was hard to refuse.”

“I made an offer that was impossible to refuse.”

She nodded in agreement.

“So, I was explaining to Reed how excited I am about this new partnership. His former partner has cleared out, so you’ll be moving into the office next to Reed’s.”

Reed took a step closer. “The offices open to a main reception area where we’ll share a secretary, but they are also joined together with an inside door. Makes collaborating quite easy.”

He stressed the word collaborating, but Frankie never flinched.

“Wonderful,” she replied.

“Why don’t you take Frankie down to the office, Reed? Show her around. Explain the ropes to her.”

Reed considered exactly what sort of ropes he’d like to show Ms. Frankie Carlyle. There were some silken ones in his bedroom he’d be more than happy to—

“I’d like that,” she said, interrupting his wayward thoughts. “I have several boxes in my car I need to have retrieved.”

“Give a word to the man at the security desk in the lobby,” Brian said. “He can help you with those.”

She preceded Reed out of the office. Reed had nearly made his own escape when Brian caught his upper arm and held him back.

He turned to face his uncle, not surprised to see the annoyance and frustration on Brian’s face. His uncle clearly suspected something was up and he didn’t like not knowing what.

“Frankie’s a very lovely woman,” Brian said in a low voice.

Reed nodded.

“I expect you to maintain a professional distance, Reed. You will behave like the gentleman you were raised to be.”

Reed swallowed the bark of laughter that threatened to explode from his chest with that statement. He’d watched his womanizing uncle’s ways since the crib. Brian wasn’t setting the bar very high.

“Of course, Uncle.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed at Reed’s use of his familial title, one Reed rarely used. Unwilling to give Brian time to regroup, Reed shook off the man’s grasp and left the office. Frankie was waiting for him by the elevator.

“The Donovan Group rents out this floor and the one beneath it,” he said smoothly as they entered the elevator. He could feel his uncle’s gaze slicing through his back, had no doubt the man was hanging on his every word.

He turned and smiled as the doors slid closed.

“You!” Frankie turned toward him angrily and he chuckled at her haughty tone.

“Yes,” he said. “Me. Small world, eh?”

Her hand flew out and slapped the stop button on the elevator. “Before we go any farther, I want you to answer one question for me. Did you know who I was last night in the bar?”

He shook his head, her question perfectly valid in light of this morning’s surprising turn of events. “No, Francesca. I didn’t know who you were.”

She sighed and he could see she believed him. “I didn’t know who you were either.”

He grinned. “I know.”

She closed her eyes and he could detect the slightest trace of dark circles beneath her eyes. Had she spent her night tossing and turning like he had? Had she relived the memory of their time together until she had no choice but to find relief at her own hand? He’d jacked off twice to the image of her wrapping her legs around his waist. Both times, he’d closed his eyes and come as he remembered her bent forward against the brick wall.

Or were the circles indicative of regret? He certainly hadn’t regretted their brief affair. Had she?

“Francesca,” he began.

“Frankie, please.” She opened her eyes. “My friends call me Frankie.”

He smiled at her kind gesture. “Frankie. I hope you aren’t regretting what happened last night.”

She shook her head. “Until about fifteen minutes ago, last night was on the very short list of things I thought I’d never regret.”

He enjoyed her candor, though he disliked seeing such a wonderful memory besmirched. “And then you walked into Brian’s office.”

“There are over eight million people living in New York City. How in the hell did I manage to pick you out of the crowd?”