Читать книгу When Morning Comes - Harmony Evans - Страница 11

Chapter 3

“And we’re off,” Autumn whispered under her breath as she watched Isaac round the corner.

Way to go, Sterling.

Her plan was falling together nicely. Though she was curious what her new boss had said on the phone to make Isaac invite her to lunch, it hardly mattered. She routinely left the initial minor details of a surveillance case up to the client. Experience taught her that doing so put her on the fast track to gaining her client’s trust. In the end, she did what she wanted, when she wanted to do it, whether the client liked it or not. All was forgiven when she solved a case and got the answers they wanted.

Autumn shifted the stack of papers in her hand, wishing she could toss them into the nearest trash can. She had no need for any of the Paxton benefits, the government took care of her quite nicely. Whether she had a nosebleed or a gunshot wound, she could walk, run or crawl to any hospital and get medical help. No questions asked and no payment required. Being a friend of Uncle Sam was the best insurance policy in the nation.

Hopefully neither of those injuries would occur on this case. But Autumn wasn’t so sure about what would happen to her heart. Over the past few years, she’d been in some pretty scary situations, but none of them made her heart beat as hard as it did when she looked at Isaac, or when he looked at her.

The raw power that he exuded, even when he was relaxed, made her unabashedly wet between the legs.

She smiled with pleasure. It wasn’t until the end of the meeting, when she had stood before him and his hot gaze sent a jolt of fire down her body, that she’d realized his hunger was for her.

Sadly, she’d almost laughed. The man had no idea that she was there to potentially destroy him.

It had been a while since she’d seen that look in a man’s eyes, and even longer since she’d welcomed it.

But Isaac? He was different. If she were to be truly honest with herself, there was something about Isaac that made her want to run into his arms. Yet, for the good of the case, she knew she would do well to remind herself on a daily basis that she was there to learn the truth, not hop into bed with the most gorgeous man she’d seen since—well...ever.

What she needed right now was a distraction. A nice cup of tea would make her forget about Isaac’s tawny-brown eyes and help her refocus on the investigation.

She was just about to try to find the Paxton cafeteria herself when she heard a voice calling her name. She turned to see Felicia walking toward her. How she didn’t manage to trip in those stiletto heels was an unfortunate miracle in itself.

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you, and here you are exactly where I left you.”

Felicia’s voice was so syrupy sweet that it made Autumn want to gag.

She opened the door to the conference room, peered inside and quickly shut it. “Where’s Isaac?” she demanded.

Autumn pasted a smile on her face. “He had to run to a meeting.”

“You mean he left you here without giving you a tour?”

“No. He gave me the tour,” she lied. “We stopped back at the conference room because I accidentally left my paperwork on the table.”

Autumn grasped the wad and waved it in Felicia’s face so hard her eyes blinked. “See?”

Felicia pushed the paper away with annoyance. “All I see is that it’s not filled out. You’d better get to your desk and get started.”

“Sure. I would be happy to do so if I knew where my desk was located.”

Felicia touched the back of her hair. “All analysts are housed in the cubicles on the second floor. Didn’t Isaac show you?” she said impatiently.

Autumn shook her head. “No, that was our last stop but then he was suddenly called into a meeting.”

Felicia let out an exasperated breath. “Come on, I’ll show you.” She started down the hall, muttering under her breath. “I guess if you want something done right around here, you’ve got to do it yourself.”

“Wait,” Autumn called out. “Sterling wrote down the location of my work space. He said it was somewhere on this floor.”

Felicia swiveled on her heels, her eyes narrowing. “Are you sure? This floor is for members of the Paxton executive team only.”

Autumn accidentally dropped the scrap of paper Sterling had given her earlier. She bent to retrieve it and when she stood, Felicia rudely snatched it away.

“Let me see that.” Felicia’s cheeks reddened and she crumpled the paper into a ball.

Autumn bit back a smile. She had no idea where her work space was located, but it was obvious the woman didn’t like it.

They walked down the carpeted hallway, in the opposite direction from where Isaac had run, and through a small corridor. A few minutes later, they stopped in front of a door with no nameplate. It was constructed of heavy wood and there was a thin plane of glass running vertically down one side of the door, the view through which was obstructed by cardboard.

“I think my father has made a mistake. We use this room for file storage.”

Felicia’s hand shook a little as she placed it on the knob and turned. “I don’t understand this,” she shrieked.

Autumn stepped into the small but clean room. Two rusty gray file cabinets lined one wall, one of which was graced with a plastic houseplant that had lost most of its leaves. The old-fashioned metal desk had a couple of beat-up chairs in front of it. On the desk was one of those spotlight lamps, the kind with the lightbulb that burned so hot it could singe anything that got to close to it.

Clearly, the room had been hastily furnished with some vintage finds from somebody’s attic or basement. A laptop was the only modern thing in the whole place.

Autumn walked around the desk and set down the stack of papers she was lugging around, as well as her purse. Then she sat in the vintage wooden chair and spun around to face Felicia, who was still by the door.

“It’s perfect!” she exclaimed with a broad smile. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s...it’s...ugly,” Felicia sputtered. “The furnishings are horrendous, not at all what we have in the other offices. Not to mention the fact that this is a file room and no one but me is supposed to be in here.”

Felicia looked out into the hallway before she moved deeper inside the room and looked around. “But where are all the files?” she wailed, her eyes wide to the whites. “This room was nearly filled with boxes and now there are only about half left.”

Hopefully, only the ones I need for the investigation, Autumn thought, snickering inwardly.

Sterling may be a grump, but he was turning out to be very, very handy.

Felicia walked up to the desk and planted her hands on her hips. “I’m sure this is only a temporary office,” she said with a note of derision. “There must be some issue with getting your cubicle ready on the second floor. I’ll speak to my father and we’ll get this matter straightened out right away.”

Autumn nodded and tugged on the middle drawer of her desk. “Sounds good.” The drawer stuck, so she tugged even harder and when she finally managed to pull it open, the metal on metal scraped together so loudly that Felicia covered her ears.

The drawer was well stocked with office supplies. Another plus for Sterling. She grabbed the first pen she saw and quickly uncapped it. “I’ll get started on that paperwork now and will have it to you by lunch, okay?”

“Fine,” Felicia snapped, looking over her shoulder again, as if she was expecting someone. “I should have this work space issue corrected by then.”

Autumn rose and went to the door, feigning eagerness to finally start her first day on the job, in the hopes that Felicia would leave. “Thanks for all your help. I’ll drop by your office in a couple of hours.”

She leaned against the jamb and watched as Felicia suddenly hurried down the hall as fast as her stiletto heels could take her. The woman seemed genuinely distraught and confused about the whole situation. She was about to shut the door when she looked up and suddenly realized why.

Isaac Mason’s office was directly opposite hers.

* * *

Isaac smoothed one hand over his close-cropped hair and then got to work reknotting his tie. It was almost noon and he’d made it through his morning meetings, his clients were happy, and there were no frantic phone calls from his children.

Like one of his favorite rappers once said, “It’s been a good day.” But Isaac knew it was long from over.

He wasn’t happy about what Sterling had asked him to do, but if he wanted to make partner, he had no choice.

With his tie neatened to his satisfaction, he took one last glance in the mirror, ignoring the rumble in his belly and hammering of his heart.

It’s just lunch, he told himself, and Autumn’s just another coworker. But he knew she was more than that, or at least he wished she could be.

Isaac walked over to his desk and password-protected his computer. After glancing out his office window, he opened the door and was shrugging into his coat when Autumn stepped out of the opposite office.

“Well, hello!” she greeted him.

Isaac pulled on the lapels of his coat. “What are you doing in there?” he asked, pointing his finger at the closed door. “That’s the file room.”

She gave him a cheery smile. “It’s my office now.”

Before he could ask any more questions, she started to walk away.

“Where are we going to lunch? The cafeteria? Because I’m starved.”

The thought of food was distracting enough without having to watch her sumptuous bottom sway down the hall and not be able to cradle it in his hands. During his morning meetings, his mind had wandered into random thoughts of her—a kind of subtle curiosity that would only be satisfied by seeing and feeling this woman who could never be his, except in his dreams.

“Um. N-no,” he stuttered, feeling a little like Clark Kent chasing Lois as he quickly moved beside her. “I thought we’d go somewhere a little quieter. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“Sounds serious. Is everything all right?”

“No, but it will be.”

It has to be, Isaac thought. He had to find a way to get back into Sterling’s good graces again. If he could pull this off, he’d make partner for sure.

He leaned against the wall as they waited for the elevator and admired the clean lines of the soft gray coat she wore. Tailored at the waist, it accentuated her trim figure and ended midthigh, which suited him just fine. The more leg she revealed the better, and from where he stood, Lord knows she had two mighty fine ones.

Damn.

There were thousands of women in New York, and the only one that had piqued his interest was off-limits and off-the-chain gorgeous.

Isaac cleared his throat and turned away before his lower body gave away his thoughts.

“It was snowing earlier. Better button up.”

Autumn nodded. “Good idea.”

Except for the occasional screech from the elevator cables, they rode down in silence until Autumn started to giggle.

He shifted his feet. “What’s so funny?”

Autumn pressed her lips together and finished buttoning her coat. “I was just remembering the look on Felicia’s face when she saw I had the office opposite yours. She was so pissed. I wonder why?”

Isaac knew why, but he wasn’t about to say anything. It was embarrassing enough how Felicia had thrown herself at him, luring him into that very room, where she was hidden among the boxes, stark naked.

He shuddered at the memory. Although he didn’t have a type, per se, Felicia definitely wasn’t it.

Now Autumn, on the other hand, was a different story. He’d only met her a few hours ago and already he was entertaining fantasies of a hot and heavy office romance. Whether this sudden lust was the result of a lack of coffee, fumes of sleep or zero sex, he couldn’t pinpoint. But if it involved two hearts possibly getting broken, one of them being his, he wasn’t about to take the risk.

The cold January air was like a rude slap in the face as they walked out of the Paxton Building. The winds didn’t help, either. The weatherman that morning had said they were blowing out of the northeast, but they felt like they were from Antarctica and their new home was in the bones of everyone who had ventured outside.

“Wh-where are we headed? I—I’m freezing already!” Autumn ground out through chattering teeth.

Isaac pulled up the collar of his black wool coat.

“Not far, just a few blocks.”

They joined the throng of people huddled against the chill and walked south, passing a variety of street vendors braving the cold and selling gloves, hats and scarves plastered with “NYC.”

“Toasties! Toasties! Two for a dollar,” cried one enterprising man. His West African lilt was as welcome as the little hand warmers he was selling.

Isaac stopped and bought four of them. He gave the guy a fifty-dollar bill and told him to keep the change.

“For the way back,” he said, giving a pair to Autumn.

He wished he could warm up her hands in his own way, but these would have to do.

Her grateful smile was all the warmth he needed. He’d almost forgotten how nice it felt to give to someone other than his children.

“Thanks. This wind is a killer. I forgot my gloves this morning. First-day jitters, I guess.”

A minute later, they arrived at Le Jardin Rouge, a popular Wall Street restaurant that was anything but French. As soon as they walked in, the din and clamor of spirited conversation floated around them.

Autumn looked around and Isaac could tell she wanted to cover her ears.

“You call this quiet?”

Isaac held up his hand as a waiter approached with a couple of menus.

“Mr. Mason, hello again. I have your regular table.”

He led them through a narrow hallway, past the kitchen, to a single room in the back.

Inside was a linen-covered table with two chairs and a fire roaring in the fireplace. They hung their coats on the two porcelain-tipped hooks on the wall and sat down.

“Thanks, Eric. Give us a moment, will you?”

After the waiter left, Isaac smiled and handed Autumn her menu.

“All better?” he asked, gesturing toward the low flames roaring in the fireplace.

Autumn nodded and moved her chair into place. “Much. And I can barely hear the other customers all the way back here.”

“Yes, I often bring clients by for lunch or when I need to get away from the office, I just come here by myself and work. It’s got a ton of character, no?”

“It’s lovely!” Autumn rubbed her hands together in front of the fire. “What’s good here?”

“Everything, mostly. The butternut squash soup is my favorite, especially on a chilly day like today. It’ll help warm us both up.”

The waiter entered the room with two bottles of mineral water. Isaac ordered the soups and a couple of side salads.

“That was awesome what you did back there,” Autumn remarked, unfolding her napkin. “For me and for that vendor.”

She poured her water into her glass and took a sip. “And here I thought all men who worked on Wall Street were ruthless penny-pinchers.”

Isaac felt the blood rush to the tips of his ears, something that happened whenever he was either very embarrassed or very angry. In this case, her compliment pleased him, but he merely shrugged.

He squeezed a lemon into his water. “Contrary to popular belief, I can be a nice guy. But in order to make money in this town, one can’t be afraid to push past boundaries and take risks.”

“Even when it involves breaking the law?”

Her question wasn’t posed in an accusatory tone. Still, it was unsettling and left a metallic taste in his mouth. Isaac was glad when the waiter approached the table with a basket of bread and their salads.

When they were alone again, Isaac asked, “Have you ever heard of the saying ‘Whoever controls the money makes the rules?’”

Autumn buttered her bread and nodded.

He took a deep breath. “Sometimes it’s true.”

And he was living it. Or at least he used to...

The meetings to which he was mysteriously not invited, the silence that often befell a room whenever he walked in, and the opportunities for new client business that lately seemed to go to someone else or he never even heard about in the first place.

He was the wealthiest senior investment banker on staff. In fact, he made more money in his yearly bonuses than in his regular salary. But, lately, it seemed as if everyone was treating him like some runny-nosed intern.

Isaac kept thinking the cold-shoulder treatment from Sterling and the other staff was because he was being groomed for the responsibilities of becoming an executive partner, where there was less day-to-day trading and managing clients and more focus on higher-level investment strategy for the firm overall.

There was something wrong going on at Paxton, something he didn’t understand, but he wasn’t ready to believe that the something wrong could be him.

“So are you saying it’s okay to look the other way?” Autumn pressed. Her brown eyes seemed as intense as the flames warming the room.

“Sometimes,” he cautioned. Autumn’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly and she seemed disappointed with his answer. “But only until one is sure that pursuing it means a net gain for both parties,” he added, not wanting to upset her.

Autumn rolled her eyes and speared a piece of romaine. “You sound like one of my old bosses. Every question I asked the guy, the answer he would give me would sound like it came out of a textbook for Economics 101.”

Isaac laughed, almost spitting out the water he was in the middle of drinking.

“I’m that bad, huh?”

Autumn munched on her salad and nodded.

“In that case, maybe I should quit investment banking and become a professor.”

She swallowed and pointed her fork at him. “Maybe you should,” she advised, her tone serious. “But not before you tell me why you invited me to lunch.”

Autumn pursed her lips into a pouty smile that nearly teased him to distraction, and he realized that he felt so comfortable with her that he’d nearly forgotten the reason he’d invited her to the restaurant in the first place.

“Ah yes,” he said, as the waiter arrived with two steaming bowls of soup. “We have an assignment.”

“What do you mean by ‘we’?” Autumn asked. “I thought you said that the analysts and investment and trading guys never worked together. Something about conflict of interest?”

Isaac nodded. “We usually don’t. But this assignment came direct from Sterling, so I don’t ask questions. He must have his reasons for wanting to do it this way.”

She blew on her spoon and swallowed some soup. “Mmm...this is delicious. Okay, so what do we need to do?”

Isaac ate a few spoonfuls of soup and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Have you ever heard of Eleanor Witterman?”

“Sure. She’s a New York City legend. The wealthy socialite who never married. She’s had plenty of suitors, or so they say. How old is she now?”

Isaac thought a moment. “Late fifties, early sixties maybe? She’s around the same age as Sterling. But from the photos I’ve seen, she doesn’t look it at all.”

Autumn twisted her lips to the side. “She must have her plastic surgeon on speed dial,” she remarked. “What about her?”

He smiled and took a sip of water before continuing.

“Sterling has been trying to get her to become a client for years, but she’s never come on board. Seems lately she’s had a change of heart. Recently she sold a large portion of her art collection for just over ten million dollars, and she came to Paxton seeking counsel on how to invest it.”

Autumn’s eyes widened. “That’s great. Any reason why she sold all that art?”

Isaac shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

“Who cares?” he said with a smile. “We’ve got ten million dollars to play with!”

“Where do I fit in this game of real-life monopoly?”

“You and I are going to put together an investment package that Eleanor won’t be able to resist.”

“That sounds more up your alley than mine. I’m an analyst, remember? I’m the one who double-checks all the calculations making sure one plus two doesn’t equal four.”

“Right, but to get this deal, we’re going to need your forecasting and predictive analysis skills, as well.”

“You mean you want me to be a fortune teller?” Autumn replied drily. She grabbed her purse and pretended to be searching for something. “Nope, no crystal ball in here.”

“Come on, Autumn. You know everyone on Wall Street relies on a little wizardry now and then.”

“Which is why we’ve had a financial meltdown in the United States and around the world,” she retorted, folding her arms.

Isaac’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected any push back, especially from a new employee. Maybe he’d been wrong about Autumn. Sterling was obviously losing his Midas touch in terms of hiring suitable Paxtonites.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?”

He tossed his napkin on the table and gave her a pointed stare. “You work in this industry. You know the way things are. Millions of stocks are traded every day by computer algorithms, not people. It’s the new world order.”

Autumn held up her hands. “I realize that, okay? All I’m saying is that we all should take some responsibility for what goes on, and what goes wrong, in our industry.”

Isaac felt the tips of his ears get hot, and this time he wasn’t happy. This lunch meeting was not turning out the way he expected. Autumn was looking like she would be difficult to work with, and yet, he had no choice.

He leaned forward and said in a hard voice, “The only responsibility I care about right now is the one I have to Paxton. And as a new member of our team, I would have thought you’d have a better attitude about this assignment.”

Autumn’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Isaac,” she said, frowning. “Sometimes I just get caught up in all the negativity that surrounds our industry that I lose sight of all the good, and I know Paxton is one of the good guys.”

She swiped at her left eye with one finger and Isaac wasn’t sure if she was removing a tear or a speck of dust. No way could he have a woman crying because of him.

That would not be a very good day.

He paid for the meal in cash and they retrieved their coats. He waited until they were outside until he spoke again. The mood between them, which had been friendly an hour ago, was as icy as the air.

“Look, Autumn, let me give you the lowdown on Eleanor,” he said, softening his voice. “She’s very old-fashioned. She doesn’t want her money being handled by computers, but by real people. Any investments we advise are going to be backed up by real numbers, forecasted to predict the dividends she could expect to receive in x number of years.”

Autumn nodded, looking contrite, and for a moment he felt guilty for getting so angry at her.

She tilted her chin, and he noticed she had a tiny mole on her jawline. “When do we get started?”

“Immediately. The presentation is in two weeks. I want you to begin looking into possibilities this afternoon. I have a full day of meetings tomorrow, so if you’re available, I’d like to have an early dinner so we can review your initial recommendations.”

Autumn buttoned up her coat. “There are hundreds of industries or companies she could possibly invest in. Any idea where to start?”

Isaac thought a moment. “How about with her best friends?”

Autumn gave him a quizzical smile. “And who might they be?”

“Diamonds.”

She burst out in a deep, knowing laugh, which was definitely better than almost making her cry.

He wiggled his fingers at her. “Now let’s bust open these hand warmers and get back to the office. We both have a lot of work to do.”

As they walked back, hands stuffed deep in their coat pockets against the harsh January winds, Isaac knew the hardest part of the days and nights ahead would be trying to stop Autumn from getting under his skin, or into his heart.