Читать книгу Everything You Need To Know - ХеленКей Даймон, HelenKay Dimon - Страница 8

Chapter One

Subject Report on Ryan Peterson: Spent entire date talking about Ryan—yes, he refers to himself in the third person. When he drove me home and I refused to sleep with him on the first date, he urinated on my front porch. Run from this blowhard. —Member 121

Need to Know admin staff: Confirmed blowhard.

JORDAN MCADAM LOOKED across the conference-room table at Ryan Peterson and fought the urge to roll her eyes. An “oh my God, shut up!” comment begged to escape her lips whenever he opened his mouth, which was every ten seconds.

The guy’s personality consisted of being pompous, loud and loaded. That last one appeared to be his only positive attribute. Not to Jordan. No, she’d dated enough powerful Washington, D.C., types to place the entire metro area in dating lockdown. She’d limit her choices to a pool of males from at least two states away from now on.

Day Four in Ryan’s presence. She’d confirmed the major complaints about him by the end of the first afternoon, but had yet to find one redeeming quality to include in the follow-up report for her website. When she’d started Need to Know, she’d known the dating world could be physically and emotionally dangerous for women. She never dreamed it resembled an apocalyptic wasteland populated with guys in business suits who possessed zero social skills when it came to handling strong women.

After reading the comments website members had posted about their dates, Jordan no longer worried about her relatively solitary existence. If her choices came down to Ryan, or that guy Ted who one member said spent most dates sending hate texts to his ex, or if she had to pick any of Ryan’s or Ted’s businessmen friends, she’d continue to limit her bedroom activities to Mr. Fancy, her bright purple vibrator.

Ryan leaned back in his chair and tapped his gold pen against the lined legal pad in front of him. When he exhaled, his stomach relaxed, pushing over the top of his black belt, which was never a good look on a man, money or not, and certainly not on a thirtysomething. “The meeting this afternoon is important.”

As if she cared. She’d taken the temp job to double-check the website reports on Ryan, since they seemed so out there for a grown man. “Yes, sir.”

“I need to make a good impression.” He made the comment while he coughed without covering his mouth. “Nothing can go wrong.”

As far as she could tell, the only chance for success hinged on Ryan skipping it. “I understand.”

The rumors racing through the employee cubicles over the past few days hinted at management problems. Something about a silent partner wanting out and money being tight, despite Ryan’s bright red might-as-well-advertise-you-have-a-small-penis convertible parked in the coveted space right by the elevator in the downstairs garage. Then there was the expensive office suite on K Street, D.C’s power-broker row.

Ryan sure did like to play the game.

He spun his chair around and stared out the eleventh-floor window to the busy street below. “You’ll need to stay late this evening. Ryan needs this deal done.”

There was the third-person thing again. In her view, Ryan needed medication. And a reality check...and maybe a few hours with a financial planner before he dragged his daddy’s once-successful construction firm into bankruptcy. “Of course, sir.”

Ryan grinned at her over his shoulder. “Maybe you can find us some dinner.”

Right, because that was within her job description as a temporary office assistant. No wonder his regular administrative assistant quit two weeks ago. From what Jordan could ferret out during coffee in the office kitchenette, the woman, Victoria something, ran from the building after being asked to send yet another morning-after “we’re over” email to a woman Ryan managed to date more than one time.

The guy was a raging dick, but Jordan had to deal with him only through the end of the day. He’d asked her to remain on next week. She’d lied and said she had another temp job lined up.

“I can order something for you to eat.” As in, for him only, or him and the two businessmen who were due any minute. She’d rather choke up stomach lining than sit across a table and listen to Ryan talk about Ryan. Because, really, how sad was that little act?

The low rumble of voices in the small reception area outside the conference room and near her desk grabbed her attention. Anything not to look at Ryan another minute.

She moved closer to the doorway and glanced out. There, by the love seat and looming over the bad-bachelor glass coffee table and the stack of six-month-old magazines, were two men in matching dark suits. The black-haired, broad-shouldered one with his back to her suddenly turned around and met her stare for stare.

She didn’t need a member’s report from the Need to Know website or a business degree to identify him. Forest Redder, millionaire businessman and commercial real-estate powerhouse...whatever that was...and an integral part of every business and political power circle in town. Objectively good looking, all six-foot-whatever of him but—thanks to the rich-boy affect—not her thing.

The blond with him, Wendell Strong—Wen to everyone who knew him—had a could-sell-yachts-to-the-poor smile. That was even less her thing.

After seeing the names on Ryan’s schedule that morning she’d done some investigating on both men. Their friendship stretched back through private schools and country clubs and wherever else rich people congregated. Neither man’s name had made it onto her website yet, but being two of the city’s most eligible bachelors in their thirties, reports and requests for information from the Need to Know community were inevitable.

Her goal for one year in business was a thousand active members paying monthly dues and, in return, getting the dating information they needed. She had eight months to go and with or without those two on the website, she was almost halfway to her membership goal.

She stepped into the reception area and closed the conference-room door behind her. “Gentlemen, may I help you?”

“We’re here for a meeting with Ryan Peterson.” Forest didn’t break into a smile or even move. “Do you know where I can find him?”

Something about the commanding tone and presence made her feel as put together as an unmade bed. She tugged down on her pencil skirt, then stopped, because letting this guy throw her off stride was just not going to happen.

“Mr. Peterson needs a few more minutes.” She had no idea if that was true, but she doubted this Forest guy had to wait for much, so she thought experiencing a little delay would be good for him.

“Are you his assistant?” His gaze dipped down and traveled over her for the briefest flash.

The last time she fell for a look like that, she ended up dating a guy who was about to get married. Not to her—not that she knew that going in. Funny how he’d forgotten to mention the fiancée and expensive wedding, complete with pre-nup and newspaper notice. Thank goodness her friend and web assistant, Elle Parker, saw that little gem or Jordan might still be the unwitting other woman to an idiot who deserved a nasty case of bedbugs.

“I’m just the temp.” She stepped farther into the reception area. Next came the awkward gesture in the general direction of the floor lamp. “Have a seat.”

“We’ll stand.”

Of course they would. Heaven forbid this Forest guy do anything to stop the circus show dancing around in her stomach. “You’re early.”

Forest glanced at his watch. His eyebrow lifted a second later.

Yeah, that wasn’t annoying or anything. “Right. Well, if you’ll excuse me a second...”

Before he said anything else, she bolted back into the conference room. Ryan sat in his big black leather chair, spinning the seat back and forth like a spoiled child. No wonder the business his family had built for decades had been flushed into a downturn only two years after Ryan took over the reins.

“Your appointment is here.”

He waved a hand at her. “Send them in.”

She turned around when he started the tie straightening and hair combing with his fingers. Pulling the door open again, she peeked into the reception area and saw Wen and Forest. They hadn’t moved at all. No talking. No shifting. They just stood there staring at her. Wen also smiled, but Forest skipped over that part.

“Mr. Peterson can see you now.” She stepped back and gestured for them to step inside the conference room.

Wen gave her a nod as he passed. He really did have the six-foot all-American-boy thing down. She could imagine him in khakis on a polo field as his two perfect blond-haired children ran by.

Then Forest slipped past her. His shoulder brushed against hers and the fresh scent of soap fell over her senses. He had the cleaned-up-businessman look, but underneath she sensed something rougher. Something not so proper.

Now that was her thing and the surprise kick of interest did not make her happy at all.

“Excuse me.” His bright-eyed gaze drilled into her as he walked by.

At five-eight, she was hardly ever in a situation where men towered over her, but he did. All firm and lean and...

“Ms. McAdam?”

Something about Ryan’s smarmy tone and stupid smirk sucked all the sexuality right out of her. She could feel her body dry up with every syllable he uttered.

She plastered a smile on her face and swallowed back the icky taste that filled her mouth whenever she glanced in Ryan’s general direction. “Yes, sir?”

“Join us and take notes.”

Wen waved her off. “I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

Jordan took that to mean this meeting was not exactly going to go as Ryan hoped. That almost made her want to stick around. “I can wait outside, and if you need me—”

“I want her to stay,” Ryan said, as he looked at the other gentlemen. “I’m sure neither one of you will have a problem with that.”

Never mind that she did.

“Fine.” Forest delivered his command and sat in the seat directly across from Ryan. “For now.”

Looked as if she could add bossy and demanding to the list of characteristics she silently compiled about this Forest guy. Usually the gruff, commanding type turned her off, but there was something about him. Something half annoying and potentially half interesting. She didn’t intend to investigate either half any further.

Ryan nodded to the chair to his right and she dropped onto it. His smile stayed in place as he slid a pad of paper over to her. She started taking notes, even wrote out a nice header and remembered the date. Then she had to fight off the urge to doodle.

“We have a problem,” Forest said as Wen joined him on that side of the table.

Ryan nodded as he leaned back in his chair, trying to give off a sense of security and failing badly when the sweat collected on his forehead. “I understood you had all the information you needed to move forward with our partnership on the new waterfront deal.”

Jordan’s head popped up. She listened, because information was her real business. She didn’t care about dictating or notes or commercial real estate, but anything that brought money into D.C. connected to power and politics. If new players moved in, she needed to know them and be prepared to see their names appear on her website.

After Forest nodded, Wen started talking. “We thought we owed you an in-person meeting, mostly because of our historic relationship with your father and this firm.”

“A very positive relationship.” Ryan sat up again. “One I intend to continue.”

Forest cleared his throat and all movement in the room stopped. The clock ticked on the wall behind Jordan, but she didn’t dare turn around and glance at it. Not when every inch of Forest, from his straight back to the slow way he moved his fingertips across the tabletop, commanded attention.

“And therein lies the problem,” he said.

Therein? Jordan knew that wasn’t a good sign. Whenever the “’twas” and “furthermore” comments came out, all hell was about to break loose.

Ryan must have figured that out, as well, because the skin around his mouth tightened and the sweat raced out of him now. “What do you mean?”

“You are not your father.” Forest put a beat of air between each word.

And that certainly stopped the collective breath of the room. Her pen dropped against the pad with a soft thud. The tick in Forest’s jaw mesmerized her. So did his long, lean fingers and the way he braced them on the table in front of him.

Wen took a white envelope out of his inside jacket pocket and slid it across the table to Ryan. “The financial audit raised some concerns.”

Ryan glanced at it, then at her, then back to Forest. “Clearly, we’ve all experienced some negative cash-flow problems over the last few years in this financial market.”

Forest didn’t even blink. “I haven’t.”

As far as comebacks went, Jordan thought that was a pretty good one. As someone who got laid off from her job when the financial world went wacky and the large law firm she worked for—the same one that everyone said could never go under—broke apart then shut its doors, she had some empathy for job loss and rough times.

But she’d picked herself back up again. Worked exactly three days at a department-store fragrance counter until she accidentally sprayed a wealthy regular customer in the face with some rancid-smelling perfume. Yeah, it had nothing to do with the lady directing Jordan to clean up after her little yapping dog who’d pooped in front of the luxury-night-cream display.

But now Jordan had Need to Know. She’d come up with the idea and made it happen. As fast as she’d predicted, it was making money and she was determined to keep it that way.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Ryan swallowed hard enough to make his throat bobble. “I thought we had a deal.”

“We said we might be able to make a deal work and enter into a contract, pending an audit and other reviews of your management style and compatibility with our structure.”

Jordan was pretty impressed with Forest’s statement. He’d managed to use all those words and barely say anything. The man could be a lawyer. Then she remembered that was one of his degrees. Score one for overeducated people everywhere.

Forest pushed up to his feet and Wen joined him. “I don’t see a partnership happening.”

“Wait... I...” Ryan’s sputtering continued for a good thirty seconds. “What other reviews about me?”

Oh, Jordan could think of some. No fewer than four women had filed reports on Ryan and not one of them had a decent thing to say about the spoiled-kid-turned-businessman. Thanks to his father’s heart attack, he sat in the Big Boy office chair, but it was clear the company’s management staff was pressuring the family to put someone else in charge, which was why Ryan needed this deal. Which also explained why his face had turned an odd shade of purple.

Instead of answering, Forest turned to her. “Maybe now would be a good time for you to leave us.”

Fine with her. She had a date with a glass of wine and a pair of pink fluffy slippers. Her plan was to grab the few things off her desk and keep walking until she hit the metro. “Of course.”

Ryan stood with a jerk, and his chair crashed to the floor. “She doesn’t work for you.”

She actually didn’t work for anyone but herself, and that’s just the way she liked it. No strings. No crappy boss.

Forest slowly turned to face Ryan. “I doubt you want a temp hearing the rest of this conversation.”

With that, the air visibly rushed out of Ryan’s chest and he leaned hard into the table. “Right.”

That was her cue to take off and she was grateful. Without another word, she headed for the door. She hesitated when her fingers touched the knob. A quick glance over her shoulder clued her into the reason for the tickling sensation at the back of her neck. Wen and Ryan talked in hushed tones with bowed heads. But not Forest. Nope, he stared right at her. Green eyes, dark look and concentrated focus.

Her hand shook as she fumbled with the door. There were few certainties in life, but she knew without any doubt that Forest Redder could mess up her plans. She ran out before that could happen.