Take Two: An Erotic Romance (Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Take Two: An Erotic Romance (Book 1)
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I laughed as Sharon grinned wickedly at me.

 

“I never said he wasn’t dashing,” I admitted. “But there’s nothing
between us now – he was downright cold to me when we met for my first training
session. I guess he’s long forgotten about that summer.”

 

“Hmm,” mused Sharon, her eyes fixed on her phone. “There’s a lot
of gossip on this guy, Amanda.”

 

Curiosity stirred within me as Sharon said this, but I tried to
keep my face neutral.

 

“Yeah? What sort of gossip?” I asked in what I hoped was a casual
tone. “He’s rich – probably a millionaire, so I’m not surprised that there are
rumors around him.”

 

“Well, that’s certainly true,” Sharon said. “Wow, Amanda – he’s
not just a millionaire, he’s worth almost 300 million!”

 

I tried not to let my eyes grow to the size of satellite dishes at
this information. I half wanted Sharon to tell me more, but I didn’t want to
let on how interesting I found the subject. I could probably just do a search
myself later. Luckily, Sharon was interested enough on her own behalf that she
needed no encouragement from me.

 

“I’m checking out a few of these links – did you know he’s dated
more than a few celebrities? Not just B-listers, either, but models, actresses
– really high profile women. It appears your old childhood crush is quite the
playboy.”

 

A part of me already knew this – after seeing how he had acted
with those two women in the office, throwing money at them and keeping them
around almost like personal accessories, it was obvious that he was a ladies’
man. Well, why shouldn’t he be? He was single, he had a lot of money and, well,
he was certainly very attractive to women. But even though I knew this, a
little seed of jealousy had sprouted in me at the information.

 

“He’s got a reputation as quite a heartbreaker too,” Sharon
continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “He’s never dated a woman for more
than a few weeks, a month or two at the most, and he always moves right on to
the next, leaving them devastated in his wake. He wines them, dines them, makes
all sorts of wonderful promises, maybe jets them off to the Bahamas or Hawaii,
and then by all accounts he just breaks it off, like he gets bored of them.
It’s a good thing you never did get involved with him, Amanda; it doesn’t seem
like he’s a very good type. Unless you just want to get shagged for a night.”
Sharon laughed. “This is some good gossip, right here.”

 

“Yeah, it sounds like I had a lucky escape,” I laughed, joining
her laughter, but my insides felt tight and strained. It didn’t feel like I’d
had a lucky escape. Thinking about the Mathis I fell in love with when I was
fifteen, it seemed like he was a completely different person than the Mathis of
today. This cold ambitious Lothario who didn’t care anything about the string
of gorgeous, famous lovers he went through.

 

“Maybe it’s to do with his background,” Sharon continued browsing
through her phone. “His story is typical rags to riches. He grew up in a poor
family, and then made it big – thanks to your uncle, I suppose. I guess he just
let it go to his head. It’s a shame, really. He sure is good looking!”

 

“Yeah,” I agreed absently. “Yeah, it’s a shame he turned out that
way. Not that I ever thought there might be anything between us,” I added
quickly as Sharon gave me a searching look. “He’s far too successful to have
any interest in a boring girl like me.”

 

“Yeah, all you have is looks, talent, and a good heart,” Sharon
said, shaking her head in mock-despair. “Who would
ever
be interested in
you?”

“Knock it off,” I said, blushing. “I’m just an accountant who works in a
cubicle all day and spends her evenings watching reruns of sappy TV shows.”

 

“Now I know that’s not true,” Sharon insisted. “What about that
novel?”

 

“It’s just a pile of junk,” I dismissed. “I don’t know why I ever
thought I could write.”

 

“Maybe because you can,” Sharon told me. “I’ve read some of your
stuff – you’re an incredible writer, Amanda. Just because your stuff hasn’t
been published, doesn’t mean it’s no good. Loads of famous authors have to get
through hundreds of rejection letters before they make their big break.”

 

I smiled at Sharon over my empty latte mug. “That’s sweet of you
to say,” I said, “but if I had what it takes, I would be a great writer by now
– look at Mathis! He’s worth 300 million and it’s not like all that just fell
in his lap.”

 

“He had an opportunity – your uncle made sure of that. True, the
rest was up to him, but he had a chance to follow his dream and he took it. You
have the same chance now, Amanda. You’ve just inherited a fortune. It’s a
golden opportunity to focus more on your writing,” Sharon urged.

 

“Maybe you’re right,” I sighed. “It’s just… what if I don’t
succeed? I don’t have any excuse to fall back on any more.”

 

“Just do what you can,” Sharon said. “Focus on this training and
learn everything you need to know about these investments of yours, and then
you can quit your boring job and spend as much time as you need working out
which direction you want to take your writing in.”

 

“I guess,” I said uncertainly.

 

“Don’t guess – know! You’re a brilliant writer, Amanda. You
shouldn’t need to have other people’s approval to tell you that. You know you
are – you’ve been writing seriously ever since we were in college. Let yourself
pursue what you really want to do now that you have the chance.”

 

“You’re right,” I agreed. “I need to dedicate my time to this
training and… I’ll see what happens with my writing.”

 

“That’s the spirit,” smiled Sharon. She looked down at her phone.
“Listen, I’d better go – I promised I’d go with the bride to meet her
mother-in-law. God knows I don’t get paid enough for this.” She stood from her
chair.

 

“Good thing you’re awesome at your job!” I quickly got up and
hugged her. “Take care and good luck!” I said as she smiled and pulled on her
elegant rose jacket.

 

“Thanks. You too – be careful around this Mathis guy,” Sharon
added. “He’s bad news, Amanda. You should make sure you don’t get caught up in
his net.”

 

“Don’t worry,” I assured her with a heavy heart, “there’s no
chance of that. I’m no celebrity.”

Chapter 7

 

My second appointment with Mathis began similarly to my first.
This time, as I waited in the lobby, I watched a different secretary. Well, I
think she was a secretary. Tall and willowy with enormous breasts and a very
low-cut shirt. She was polishing her nails and flipping through a fashion
magazine. After about twenty minutes of watching her blonde hair swish over her
shoulders and wondering how it could possibly be that bouncy, she sent me a
toothy grin and said, “Mathis will see you now.”

 

“Thanks,” I said, wondering whether it was normal etiquette to
call your boss by his first name. I walked to Mathis’ door and knocked. Today I
was dressed a little more informally in a pair of slacks and a sleeveless, very
pale turquoise blouse. It was a little cold in the air-conditioned building,
and I shivered slightly as Mathis opened the door of his office, ushering me
inside.

 

I looked up at his face, and was surprised to see that his jaw was
clenched tight and his fist was still clasped around his cell phone in a
vice-like grip. He looked stressed, bordering on angry.

 

“A-Are you okay?” I hesitated. “Not a good time maybe?”

 

“I’m fine,” Mathis brushed me off. “Just a business phone call.
Have a seat.”

 

I took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs and watched as
Mathis crossed over to a miniature fridge, drawing out a bottle of water and
pouring some into a glass. He seemed to calm down a little as he took a long
gulp of water.

 

“Did you want something?” he asked as he put down his glass.
“Coffee? Water?”

 

“No, thanks,” I said. I shivered a little as the cold air from the
fridge reached me.

 

“Are you cold?” he asked me, noticing my shiver, his light blue
eyes sweeping over my gooseflesh.

 

“A little,” I said. “Silly of me to go around without a jacket in
March.”

 

“I’ll turn the air conditioning down,” he said, in a chivalrous
gesture which reminded me of the old Mathis.

 

“Thanks,” I said. For a moment it looked as if he wanted to say
something else after changing the thermostat, but he seemed to stop himself,
and instead crossed the office in a few long strides, seating himself opposite
me.

 

“Alright, let’s get started. I thought that the first thing we’d
do would be to review the histories of the companies you’re invested in. That
way you’ll have a better understanding of their markets,” said Mathis, his tone
professional.

 

The next forty minutes or so were a deluge of information, most of
it entirely new to me. From time to time, Mathis would fire a question at me
about one of the businesses. If I got it right, a curt nod of acknowledgement
was all I received. If I got it wrong, another lecture followed, with a whole
new barrage of facts. Whatever else Mathis was, he still possessed that
incredible focus and dedication to his work that I remembered from that summer.

 

My own focus had never been nearly as good except for when I was
reading. I was starting to flag, and Mathis could sense it.

 

“Alright , Amanda. This is an easy one. What is the net worth of
Dillinger, Inc.?”

 

“Dillinger?” I frowned, trying to remember that one fact among the
flood of information which Mathis had provided me with. “A few hundred
million?” I guessed.

 

“Pay attention, Amanda. We went over this already,” Mathis sighed.

 

“Ugh!” I pushed my hair back with my hands, feeling my brain melt
like a marshmallow over a campfire. “It’s just too much to remember all at once,
Mathis. I need some time to digest all this information.”

 

“You just need to focus, Amanda. I know you can do it if you try,”
Mathis said, and his tone bordered on encouraging, the soft, warm tone I
remembered from the days when we tried to climb the highest trees in the wood,
so high that we could see all the way back to Uncle Andy’s house.

 

I took courage from his slightly more friendly tone. “Do you
remember when we climbed that old oak tree at Uncle Andy’s house in the
country?”

 

“Amanda, I don’t—” Mathis started, but I interrupted him.

 

“You made a bet with me that you could climb higher than I could.
I was so desperate to prove you wrong. I raced you up, climbing on the branches
that were too thin for you, the ones that wouldn’t bear your weight. You
shouted at me to be careful,” I grinned, remembering the worried look on
Mathis’ face as I sped on ahead of him.

 

“I remember,” Mathis said, a slight smile quirking his lips, the
same smile which had made my heart beat faster when I was fifteen years old.
After all this time, that particular effect didn’t seem to have dulled in the
slightest. “You wouldn’t listen to a word I said. All you were interested in
doing was beating me.”

 

“You came up after me to make sure I was okay, though,” I added.

 

“And one of those damn branches snapped beneath my weight,” Mathis
laughed ruefully. “I fell about ten feet before I caught myself on one of the
lower branches. We were quite the risk takers.”

 

“It was scary,” I giggled at the memory. “Uncle Andy was so mad
when we got back to the house – you were all cut up and bleeding.”

 

“So were you,” Mathis chuckled, his eyes crinkling up delightfully
as he recalled the incident, his expression almost… fond? “You must have set a
world record for how fast you climbed down to check I was okay.”

 

I smiled in response to his warm expression, and for a moment we
were the Mathis and Amanda of over a decade ago, adventurous and reckless,
laughing about all the stupid things we had done together. I felt warm and
secure as he looked at me, his face relaxed into a smile and his eyes once
again dancing with that impish expression I remembered so well. It made my
fingertips tingle and something stir in my belly, as if someone had let loose
fireworks inside me. It was a peculiar, heady feeling.

BOOK: Take Two: An Erotic Romance (Book 1)
8.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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