RAGE (The Rage Series Book 1) (8 page)

              As usual, Marshall chose some steakhouse in midtown that was a bit beyond David's price range. As long as the two men had known each other, the younger of them had always offered to pay when they went out. Of course, such matters always wore heavily on David's masculinity, and so he resolved that this time he would certainly pay his own way. Money from his time at Mathers could help him in that, he supposed.

              He arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early and found his friend already seated in a booth in the back of the expansive, well-lit space. If there was one thing that he admired about his companion— apart from the fact that he'd also come from a relatively poor family and made his own way—it was that he was one of the only people he knew that was as punctual as himself.

              “Hey man. How're things?” At thirty-three, Marshall was two years younger than him. He had begun to wear button-up shirts and slacks to every occasion since he'd started working on the stock floor, and he did so now—with a dark blue number that matched his eyes and well-tailored black pants. His dark blonde hair hosted not a single streak of gray, and he had warm brown eyes that women always appreciated.

              “Exhausting.” David had resolved to be as truthful with his friend as he could. Of course, he couldn't reveal all the reasons that he had sought a job at Mathers recently, but he supposed revealing the details of working for them didn't reveal any untoward information. “Ever since they got hold of my designs, they've been working me around the clock.”

              “Sounds like Mathers.” Marshall grinned, showing his white teeth. “You know, their stock has gone up a bit since you were hired. That your doing?”

              The jest drew a small smile from David. “Perhaps. It's slightly intimidating that I might have had such an all-encompassing influence so quickly.”

              “Yeah, I'm not shocked. You frequently change the lives of the people you meet.”

              Certainly, that was his plan.

              Taking a seat, David grabbed a menu to begin looking over it. He managed to suppress a wince at the prices, reminding himself that he definitely had more money now than he’d had in the last few years. One nice lunch wouldn't kill him.

              “So, is the tech department running around in circles to keep up with you?”

              David chuckled. That was probably exactly what they were doing, but they were admirable at hiding it. That, and he did genuinely try to help them execute the designs with painstaking attention. The staff had to get them right if they were ever to use them—or lose them. The thought made his eyes gleam darkly. “Something like that.”

              “And what about the office?” Marshall leaned over the table conspiratorially. “Any worthwhile women to ogle on your lunch break?”

              For a brief moment, David's thoughts turned to Charlotte. If there was ever a woman worth ogling, it was her. Sure, there were plenty of younger techs and receptionists on his floor. Margery was cute, and Adeline, though terrifying, was a prime example of an athletic and esthetically pleasing woman. However, Charlotte...Charlotte trumped them all—with those curves, her sultry voice, and those amazing blue eyes. There was hardly any competition.

              And he wasn't, of course, the only member of the tech department to notice. Every time the woman came down from the top floor, she left a trail of salivating men in her wake. When she wore those form-hugging pencil skirts and cropped jackets, it was a lot, David mused, for most tech nerds to handle. Luckily, he'd had a lifetime to prepare for the test, and only betrayed the emotions he wanted to betray.

              At Marshall's question, his lips curved slightly. “A few. Enough to keep me busy, I suppose.”

              The blonde man merely shook his head, his smile still firmly in place. “Hope that strict dating policy of theirs doesn't come around to bite you in the ass.”

              He highly doubted it. He was, after all, shooting for one of the women who'd signed off on the policy. “Man...the Wagyu is the specialty for today.” Perusing the menu, Marshall glanced over at him. “I'd go for that if I were you. It's amazing.”

              It was expensive, as well. However, for the first time in his life, David found himself fixing the man with a smug grin. “Sounds good to me. I'll pay.”

              Marshall's mouth fell open in surprise for a moment—before he began grasping for words. “David, no. You just started your new gig. I fully expected—”

              “I'm not your date, Marshall, am I? And I'm certainly not your girlfriend.” Marshall's expression made his stomach warm with satisfaction. Not that he didn't adore his friend most days but paying his own way for once in his life felt
amazing
.

              The Wagyu, he was sure, wouldn't even compare.

              Charlotte gazed at herself in the mirror critically.

              She was wearing a deep navy-colored gown with a modest neckline that accentuated her curves and fell straight to the floor. With it, she'd paired a diamond necklace and studs, and a small black clutch. She'd pinned her hair half up, letting the rest flow down to her waist.

              She was ready for the annual company charity ball.

              It was one of the events she looked forward to the entire year. Though the daily workings of the company did stimulate her to some extent, it had never been her dream to run Mathers. Her father had thrust it upon her when he'd announced he was retiring. He should be lucky, the young woman mused, that she was intelligent enough to prevent the whole thing from falling down about her ears.

              But now, she was facing the one night where she could give away piles of his precious money to causes she believed in. She shivered in excitement, as she remembered the checks she'd signed in the past few days. Some of them were as large as ten million dollars, donations to foundations that fed the hungry in Africa, provided medical supplies to the needy in the southeastern region of Asia, and helped South American slum inhabitants have access to clean water.

              She supposed she was always somewhat proud of the company, but tonight you could see it on her face. Tonight was her night.

              Her head held high, she left the high-ceilinged, gorgeous bathroom of the MET and stepped out onto a floor crowded with the New York elite. She was so intent to make her way to the heads of the foundations that she worked with that she ran headlong into a very tall and very hard form.

              Before she could fall, strong hands caught her by the shoulders, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I'm
so
sorry I—” The comment died on her lips, as she realized that she'd collided with none other than David Marscomb.

              She couldn’t help but notice how well he cleaned up.

              As they'd worked together for the past few weeks, she'd grown used to him in his overly-small lab coats and slacks. For certain, she'd salivated over him a number of times if only when his back was turned. But now, he was clad in a charcoal suit that fit him perfectly, hugging the lines of his broad shoulders and highlighting his trim waist. His hair was slicked back from his face and he wore a tie, completing the picture of a breathtakingly sophisticated gentlemen.

              Despite herself, she clenched her thighs.

              The man was simply too delicious.

              “You'd better be careful in those heels.” His casual smile made her weak at the knees. “Not everyone has reflexes like me.”

              She found her own lips curving at his joke. “They are
incredibly
high. I'm going to need a change of shoes by the end of the night.”

              “I could just carry you...though I'm sure that might incite some stares.”

              Her body warmed at the notion. Damn him. He could say that he wanted to order a cheeseburger in that alluring northeastern twang of his and she'd fall all over herself.

              And it wasn't just because of his looks.

              By this point, David had been working for the company for over two months. He'd led the tech department to create over twenty new prototypes, each worth their weight in gold. However, that wasn't what drew her to him the most. The man wasn't only intelligent, he was kind, as well. She knew that she wasn't the most tech-savvy mind around, but still he worked patiently with her on every additional project he'd built, making sure that she understood exactly how it worked. She had to admit that his instructions were much simpler than any Addy ever offered her, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

              Truthfully, if the man weren't such a great instructor, she doubted she'd be able to keep up with the fountain of projects coming from his department. It seemed like every other day, there was a new idea he was pitching to the design team, and they had not even shot him down once.

              It was, perhaps, because he was never cocky or proud when it came to his creations. Often, he cited that he'd been inspired by an older prototype that one of the other designers had come up with and had only improved it slightly. This bolstered the team he worked with and kept them from feeling as if he was simply trying to outdo them all. In fact, even though most of the prototypes now being built were of his own design, there were several that he had helped other techs complete. Men and women were proud to finally see their work on the drawing room floor, and they admired him all the more for helping them put it there.

              The Department of Research and Development adored him. He was constantly providing them with new resources to look into when it came to sourcing companies and coming up with innovative ways to cut costs. Though it wasn't his job, the man did it anyway, and he was damn good at finding the cheapest and most efficient ways to produce devices that would otherwise cost a fortune.

              The human resources department received a rash of cases involving both men and women who said they wouldn't work with the man because they were too infatuated with him. These, of course, Charlotte found highly amusing. Though, she couldn't deny that she was a bit jealous of some of the women who got to work all day in the same office as him—not that she didn't appreciate their night hours together, but she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be on the same floor as him and watch the divine way his behind tightened as he walked past her whenever she wished.

              That would be heaven.

              All in all, their newest employee seemed to have no faults. He was generous, kind, and patient. His humility knew no bounds. The only strange thing was that he'd asked for an advance on his first few months’ salary.

              Charlotte had tried to think of why he would need it. She wondered whether he had financial problems or medical bills. He didn't seem like the type who would be buried under a mountain of debt, and he looked as healthy as a horse. The small detail, however, didn't fluster her. He wasn't the first employee to make the request, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. If anyone deserved an advance, it was David.

              Within the next two years, Mathers Incorporated was going to be a different company. Charlotte hoped it would be run by its stockholders, and not by anyone with the Mathers name.

              “I think I'll just try standing until I can't anymore.” As she replied to his offer, she took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped the cool, crisp beverage.

              “Planning on drinking ourselves into a stupor, are we?”

              His humor was refreshing. Usually only Addy dared to banter with her, and her jokes were of a completely different caliber.

              “Hardly. Can't be hiccupping up on stage.”

              “Right.” His lips curved as he also took a glass. He appeared to consider for a moment before raising it slightly. “To helping those in need.”

              Her blue eyes softening, Charlotte clinked her glass against his without hesitation. “To those in need.”

              After they'd both drank, he spoke again, and this time his tone was slightly lower. “That dress suits you, by the way. You look absolutely radiant.”

              Almost immediately, she flushed.

              This was the latest in a series of comments that had her trying to figure out the man's motives. Though Addy had mentioned several times that she hoped that neither she nor David were doing anything against company policy when they were alone together, Charlotte didn't feel horribly guilty about flirting a bit.

              Since the comment about her perfume, which was indeed
J'adore
from Dior, every so often David snuck in little flattering remarks that warmed her blood and made her feel more feminine than she had in ages. He'd comment on her shoes, her hair, or even her lipstick in the most complimentary fashion, and she was tempted to tell him how she felt about his appearance in turn. She hardly thought, however, that her words would be as carefully constructed as his. To her, the tech expert was lust personified, and she was finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to just lose herself in him.