Page 15 of Envy
“You have no idea.” That is the truth, and better yet—he knows it.
He nods slowly, turning our conversation over in his mind. All the innuendos and unspoken words combined with today’s revelations. He must be starting to realize this acquisition has been a long time in the making.
“Well, I’m looking forward to working with you to make this transition as painless as possible.”
“It will be completely painless, Wyatt. When we’re through, I bet your employees don’t even realize you’re gone.”
We spend the rest of the flight in silence. He moved from the seat next to me to the one across from me. Many times when I glanced up from my laptop, I caught him intently watching me. When our eyes met, he never looked away. I could tell he wanted to say something—whatever was on his mind was on the tip of his tongue. But I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. None of his lies or apologies could sway me from my ultimate goal.
When the pilot announces we’re preparing for landing, I wake Charlie from his nap. I think he senses the friction between Wyatt and me, but he never mentions it. When we deplane, Wyatt stops me before I can walk away.
“I need to get your phone number, Megan.”
“For what?” I didn’t want him to have my number.
“We’re working together. There may be emergencies or urgent situations, and I need to be able to get in touch with you.”
Though it kills me inside, I concede and give him my number. I also give him the address to the office and tell him what time I’ll be there in the morning. At his insistence, I also save his contact information in my phone. I turn on my heel and walk toward the curb where my driver waits. The masochist in me couldn’t stand not to look, so I glance over at Wyatt and am surprised to see him slide into the back of a taxi. I quickly chalk it up to the element of surprise that hit him today and left him little time to notify his driver.
I’m quiet the entire ride back to my elaborate East Side condo. I can’t help but wonder where Wyatt lives now. Sitting on my private patio, I look out over the city that never sleeps and replay every word, every expression, and every detail of our interactions today. He didn’t respond in any of the ways I envisioned. There was no anger over losing his company. Maybe he’s planning a countermove. Instead of being tongue tied over seeing me again, he seemed to want to talk nonstop.
Then he proposed to work together to transition his position to his replacement. He succeeded in shocking me with that one, which simply means I have to be more on my game tomorrow. For the foreseeable future, we’ll be working much too close together. Everything about him reminds me of what was, what wasn’t, and what could’ve been. When my thoughts come full circle, I’m right back where I am now—poised to crush him, ruin his life, and walk away unscathed.
To give him exactly what he deserves.
********
When I slide out of the backseat the next morning, Wyatt is standing at the front doors of the office building. His eyes rake over me, warming me from the inside out with his sensual stare. But one memory chills me again instantly.
“Good morning,” he says and hands me a cup of coffee. “Cinnamon dolce latte with a double shot of espresso, right?”
I’m pissed off he remembers that was my favorite coffee. The only way I ever had that type of extravagant treat was when he bought it for me. I haven’t had one since then because of the memories a simple concoction evokes. But I’ll never let him know how much such a simple drink affects me, so I take the cup from his hand and keep walking through the opened doors.
“What’s on the agenda for today, boss?” His tone is too easy-going, and I’m too suspicious of him.
“Charlie has already drafted the bylaws for the new organization, so the next step is nominating and contacting the new board members.” He already knows the process, so he’s either testing me or trying to make small talk. Either way, my blunt tone leaves no doubt that he’s already on my nerves.
“Not a morning person, huh?”
I stop walking and turn to him. “I’m a morning person. An afternoon person. An evening person. A night owl. But there are a few things I’m not. One, I’m not interested in you. Two, I’m not interested in being your friend. Three, I’m not interested in working with you. This will be a short transition—I’ll make sure of that.
“In the meantime, you’ll work with someone on my staff, not with me directly. I’ve made it clear I’m not interested in being the CEO. You can meet with the new board to answer any questions they have until they name your replacement. Then you’ll work with the incoming CEO until he or she determines you’re no longer needed.”
“Do I get an office close to yours?”
“No.”
I turn on my heel and continue walking to the elevators. The ride up to my floor is uncomfortable. Not because it’s too crowded, but because it’s not. Wyatt leans against the side wall, staring at me with a smile playing on his lips the entire time. If he’s trying to grate on my last nerve, he is succeeding. I don’t want to think about his lips, or his smile, or anything else I used to love.
When we walk into my company’s office space, he looks around and releases a low whistle. “Whoa, very nice. I’m currently in the market for a new position. I think I’d be very happy working here. Are you hiring, by any chance?”
“No.”
I ignore his amused chuckle and keep walking toward my assistant. “Chelle, can you please get Mr. Weston set up in one of our open cubicles? And ask Adam to come to my office so I can bring him up to speed on the Weston Commercial acquisition. Thank you.”
Without looking back at Wyatt, I start toward my office when I hear him speak to Chelle. She’s attractive, young, and petite, so of course, his voice suddenly became charming and intimate. I want to stop and admonish him for flirting with her, but then I remind myself that I don’t care. I close my office door behind me, maybe with a little too much force.
Adam comes in, and I explain what happened the day before and how I was somehow tricked into working directly with Wyatt. Adam agrees to spend time interviewing Wyatt to document the operating protocol so we can get rid of him as quickly as possible. With my attention focused on my next conquest, I lose track of time and somewhat forget that Wyatt is somewhere just outside my office door.
