Читать книгу Best Friends, Secret Lovers - Jessica Lemmon - Страница 13

Three

Sabrina had lectured Flynn as much as she dared. She’d pushed him to the point of real anger—not the showy all-bark/no-bite thing he’d just done in “the Suit Café” as she liked to call their private break room, but real, shaking, red-faced anger. Which was why she recognized the sound of that booming timbre when she passed by a closed conference room door later the same afternoon.

Definitely, that was Flynn shouting a few choice words, and definitely, that was the voice of Mac Langley, a senior executive who had been hired on at the beginning by Emmons Parker himself.

She bristled as more swearing pierced the air. She’d seen a glimpse of the old Flynn when the four of them had fled the funeral to go to Chaz’s for fish and chips and ice-cold beers. In that moment she’d realized how much she missed hanging out with him, and how his marriage to Veronica had been the beginning of her new, more distant BFF. In college Sabrina used to bake him cookies, do his laundry, make sure he was eating while studying.

She felt that instinct to take care of him anew. Maybe because Veronica was so classless, having tossed aside what she and Flynn had, or simply because Sabrina wanted Flynn to be happy again and their college years were when she remembered his being happiest.

Flynn loudly insulted Mac again and Sabrina winced. There’d be no putting that horse back into the barn. No man could call another man that and not pay the price. It’d take time to smooth over, and some distance. And with a man like Mac, the distance would have to be Tokyo to London.

The heavy wooden door did little to mute the noise, and as a result a few employees had gathered outside it—staring in slack-jawed bewilderment.

When the shouts ceased, a charge of electricity lingered like the stench from a burnt grilled cheese sandwich—like the tension couldn’t be contained by the room and had crept out under the door.

She pasted a smile on her face and turned toward the gathering crowd—two gawping interns and Gage.

“Yikes.” Gage smirked, sipped his coffee and eyed the interns. “Unless you want to be on the receiving end of more of that,” he leaned in to say, “you might want to clear the corridor before they come out.”

He kept his tone light and playful, adding a wink for the benefit of the two younger girls, and when he smiled they tittered and scooted off, their tones hushed.

“Do you have to charm everyone you come in contact with?”

“I wasn’t charming them. I was being myself.” He grinned. Gage was both boyish and likable. The thing was he wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been trying to charm them. Flirting came as naturally to him as breathing. Still, she doubted the wink-and-smile routine would silence the girls permanently. They would tell a friend or two or be overheard dishing in the employee lounge and then the entire company would know about Flynn’s outburst. Damage control would take a miracle.

She didn’t want anyone to think poorly of him, even though he’d been an ogre since he’d taken over the company. But couldn’t they see he was hurting? He needed support, not criticism.

Gage came to stand next to her where he, too, watched the door. “Who’s in there with him?”

“Mac. And, judging by the voices, a few other executives. I don’t hear Reid.”

He shook his head. “I passed by him in his office before doing a lap to check on the sales team.”

A meeting where none of them had been included. Hmm. She wondered who had called it.

“Did something happen this weekend?” she asked as they faced the door. Maybe the bar night where many drinks were consumed prompted Flynn to admit his feelings...though, she doubted it.

“Drinks. More drinks. Reaffirmation that the pact was the right thing to do.” Gage shrugged.

“Seriously how can you continue with that cockamamie idea?”

“You know no one says cockamamie any more, right?”

“Veronica is a hot mess, but you can’t celebrate the end of her and Flynn’s marriage like a...a...”

“Bachelor party?”

“Yes.” She pointed at him in confirmation. “Like a bachelor party. Especially when you are celebrating being bachelors forever and ever, amen.”

“Sabrina. If you want in on the pact, just yell.”

“Pass.” She rolled her eyes. Why did everyone keep offering her an “in” like she wanted to be a part of that? “I’ve never been married, but I’ve watched friends go through it. Divorce is devastating. And after losing his father, it’ll be like another death he’ll have to grieve. A weekend of shots isn’t going to remedy it.”

Over the last six months, she’d watched Flynn deal with his father’s death. The grief had hovered in the anger stage for a while, before he’d seemed to lighten up. The day they did a champagne toast to their new offices, Flynn was all smiles. He stated how Monarch was going through a rebirth. There was a sincere speech during which Flynn thanked them for sticking with him, which simultaneously broke her heart and mended it at the same time. Now the optimistic Flynn was nowhere to be found. He’d looped around to the anger stage again and was stuck in the rut worn of his own making.

“He’s busy.” Gage palmed her shoulder supportively. “Running this place is stressful and he doesn’t have the respect he deserves. Don’t worry about his emotional state, Sab. He’s doing what needs to be done. That’s all.”

But that wasn’t “all” no matter how much denial Reid and Gage were in. She knew Flynn. Knew his moods and knew his values. Sure, they’d suffered a bit of distance since his marriage to Veronica, but Sabrina had still seen him day in and out at work. She’d shared countless meetings and lunches with him.

He used to be lighthearted and open and gentle. He used to be happy. Who he was now wasn’t in the same stratosphere as happy. Though if she thought about it for longer than three seconds, she might admit that he hadn’t been truly happy in years. Veronica, even when she hadn’t been cheating on Flynn with his brother, wasn’t an easygoing person. She had a way of sucking the oxygen from the room. As much as Flynn had scrambled to appease her, it was rare that she was contented.

Sabrina shook her head, as sickened now as she was then. Flynn deserved better.

“It’s more than that,” she told Gage.

“He’s fine. Probably needs to get laid.”

Sabrina recoiled, but not at Gage’s choice of phrasing. Gage and Reid, along with Flynn, had been close friends since college. She was comfortable around them in and outside of work. No, what had her feeling uncomfortable was the idea of Flynn sleeping with someone else. She’d grown accustomed to his belonging to Veronica, but the thought of him with someone else...

“Gross.”

He shrugged and then turned in the direction of the elevator.

What a pile of crap-male logic.

Flynn needed time and space to acclimate—time to heal—and the last thing he needed was to spend time with a nameless, faceless woman.

He’d spent years with a woman who had both a face and a name. Sabrina felt possessive of him at first, but quickly determined that wasn’t fair. She’d never had a claim on him. As his best friend, sure, and that meant she supported him no matter what—that hadn’t changed. She’d tell him exactly what she thought if he started entertaining the idea of taking home a random...floozy in the hopes of improving his mood.

As she was contemplating whether anyone still used the word floozy, the door opened. A swarm of suits filed out of the room. Most of them were the senior members of the staff, the men and women who had helped build Monarch back when Emmons had started the company with nothing more than a legal pad and a number two pencil. It was admirable that Emmons Parker had built a consulting business from scratch, and even more so that it’d become the top management consulting firm for not only Seattle but also for a great deal of the Pacific Northwest.

He’d demanded excellence from all of them, in particular Flynn, who had been strong-armed into the executive level within the firm. When Flynn graduated college, he’d landed Gage and Sabrina internships. Reid started a few years later, after an unsuccessful trip back home to London resulted in his admitting that he preferred living in America. Sabrina wasn’t surprised. Reid was much more suited to Seattle than London. And the weather was similar.

She stepped out of the way of Mac, who was marching past her, propelled by the steam coming out of his ears. He wore an unstylish brown suit and his jowls hung over the tightly buttoned collar at his neck. His tie was tight and short, his arms ramrod stiff at his sides, and his hands were balled into ham-sized fists.

The rest of the executives who ran various departments of Monarch paraded out next, but no one appeared as incensed as Mac.

She offered a paper-thin smile at Belinda, Monarch’s legal counsel. Belinda was smart and tough, but also a human being who cared, which made her one of Sabrina’s favorite people.

“What’s going on?” Sabrina whispered, following Belinda’s lead away from the pack.

Belinda stopped and watched the rest of the crew wander off in various directions of the office before leveling with Sabrina in her honest, curt way. “You need to get Flynn out of here, Sabrina, or they’re going to revolt.”

“Oh-kay. I can...take him to lunch or something.”

“Not for an hour. For a few weeks. A month. Long enough for him to remember what is important or they’re going to abandon ship. Son of Emmons Parker or not, he doesn’t have their support.”

“I’ve never had their support,” Flynn boomed from behind Belinda. To her credit, she didn’t wilt or jerk in surprise. She simply turned and shook her head.

“You heard my suggestion,” she told him with a pointed glance before leaving Flynn and Sabrina alone.

“What happened in there? You guys brought down the house.”

“What happened is that they’re blaming me for stock prices taking a dive. Like it’s my fault Emmons died and made our investors twitchy.”

He dragged a hand over his short, stylish brown hair and closed his eyes. Long lashes shadowed chiseled cheeks and a firm, angled jaw. If there was only one attribute Flynn had inherited from his father it was his staggering good looks. Emmons, even for an older guy, had been handsome...until he opened his mouth. Flynn wielded those strong Parker genes like a champ, wearing jeans and Ts or suits and ties and looking at home in either. He wore the latter now, a dark suit and smart pale blue shirt with a deeper blue tie. A line marred his brow—that was a more recent feature. He’d had it since he’d taken over Monarch and inherited the problems that came with it.

“They have to know that the company was declining as soon as the Seattle Times ran the article that announced your father was ailing,” she told him. “That has nothing to do with you.”

“They don’t care, Sab.” He turned on his heel and marched to the elevator. She followed since her office was on the same floor as his. He held the door for her when he saw her coming and she stepped in next to him as the elevator traveled up the three floors she had intended to walk so she could count them on her fitness tracker.

“Belinda said—”

“Mac is a horse’s ass. He’s been pissed off since I pulled my friends into the inner sanctum instead of him, and this quarter’s numbers are the perfect excuse to summon the townsfolk to bring their pitchforks. Belinda wants me to run from him like a scared rabbit.” He glowered at Sabrina. “Do I look like a rabbit to you?”

“No. You don’t.” She gripped his arm in an attempt to connect with him, to break through the wall of anger he was behind. His features softened as his mouth went flat and a strange sort of awareness crackled in the air between them. An electric current ran the length of her arm and skimmed her form like a caress. Even her toes tingled inside her Christian Louboutin pumps.

She yanked her hand away, alarmed at the reaction. This was Flynn, her best friend. Whatever rogue reaction her body was having to him was...well, crazy.

She shook out her hand as if to clear the buzz of awareness from her body. “You’ll have to tell me what’s going on sooner or later.”

He watched her carefully, his blue eyes revealing nothing. They were more gray today thanks to the color of his suit jacket. Handsome even when he was angry.

Veronica was an idiot.

A surge of anger replaced the tingles. Whenever she thought of his ex-wife’s betrayal, Sabrina wanted to scream. He was too amazing a person to settle for someone who would discard him so carelessly.

“Flynn.”

He sighed, which meant she’d won, and she had to fight not to smile. The elevator doors swept aside and he gestured for her to go ahead of him. “My office.”

She led the way, walking into the glass-walled room and waiting for him to follow before she shut the door.

His assistant, Yasmine, was out sick today so Sabrina didn’t bother shutting the blinds. The only other two people on this floor wouldn’t heed a closed blind any more than she would. Like her, Gage and Reid had an all-access pass to everything Monarch and everything Flynn. Their loyalty to him ran as deeply and broadly as her own, which was why she pegged him with an honest question the moment he propped his hands on his waist and glared down at her.

“What is going on with you?”

Admittedly, her intervention was about six weeks too late. She’d assumed he’d bounce back any moment. A possibility that grew further and further away as the days passed.

“Meaning?”

Short of grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a good shake, she didn’t know how to reach him except to ask point-blank. “Meaning, what was the screaming about downstairs? What was it really about? I don’t want some generic comment about how you and Mac don’t see eye to eye.”

“Nothing.” His face pleated.

Deciding to wait him out, she straightened her back and folded her arms over her chest. She wasn’t going to let him throw up a smokescreen and keep her out of this any longer.

“No one here believes I can do this job,” he said.

“They’re wrong.”

“They want my father back. They want a ruthless, impersonal asshole to sit in this office and deliver their bonuses.” Flynn sat down in his chair and spread his arms. “I’m filling the ruthless, impersonal asshole part of the request and they’re not appeased. They’re like...like an active volcano that needs a virgin sacrifice.”

She lifted an eyebrow at the metaphor.

“Know anyone?” His lips twitched at his own joke.

She smiled and the tension in the room eased. “I’m sorry to say that my V-card was awarded to Bennie Todd our freshman year in college.”

“Your first clue that was a mistake was that his name was Bennie.”

“Yuck. We’re not talking about him.”

His eyes flickered playfully. The Flynn she knew and loved was still inside the corporate mannequin she was currently addressing. Thank God.

He’d always sworn he’d never turn into his father. And yet after his father’s illness and subsequent death, after finding out Veronica had screwed him over, Flynn had devolved into a close simulation of Emmons Parker.

His face drawn, he stood and gestured for her to take his chair. “Have a seat. I want to show you something.”

She sat in his plush, ergonomic chair and he leaned over her, the musky smell of him familiar and not at the same time. He’d been this close to her a million times, but this was the first time she noticed her heart rate ratcheting up while he casually tapped in the password on his laptop. What was with her today? Had it really been that long since she had male attention?

Yes, she thought glumly.

“Read this.” He opened an email addressed from Mac and backed away, taking his manly scent—and her bizarre reaction to it—with him.

“They’re threatening to leave,” he said.

She read the subject of the email aloud. “Tender of resignation?”

“Yes. From our CFO, director of human resources and vice president. They’re going to start a new company and take most of our office with them. Or at least that’s the threat. If I agree to Belinda’s suggestion and take an extended break, they’ll stick around and give me a second chance.”

“It’s mutiny.” She could hardly believe this many bigwigs at Monarch would agree to such an insane plan.

“To say the least. If we were to attempt to keep Monarch afloat after they left, I doubt we’d be able to stay open while we trained a new...everyone.” He gestured his frustration with a sweep of his arm.

He was right. Hiring that many new executives would take months. Monarch would fold like a pizza box.

“I’m not backing down.”

“What do they believe will change if you take an extended break?”

“They think I’m burned out and need to take some time to reflect.” He said it like it was a swear word.

“Well...”

How to agree and not side against Flynn? That was the question...

“Is reflecting so bad? You didn’t take bereavement after your father passed.”

His face hardened. Even twenty-three years younger than his late father, Flynn was a picture-perfect match for dear old Dad.

The execs were used to the way things were, and when Flynn implemented new things—good things that the company needed—the change hadn’t gone over well. Flynn was the future of Monarch and had always been more forward thinking than his father.

“It’s a bluff,” he said.

She wasn’t so sure. Mac was powerful. Both in position and in his ability to convince his colleagues to go along with his scheme.

“Would a monthlong sabbatical be that bad?” She turned in her chair and met his gaze, which burned through her. Eyes she’d looked into on many occasions, and never failed to make her feel stable and like she mattered.

“If I leave for a month, God knows what those dinosaurs would do to the place.” Flynn would never voluntarily abandon ship—even if it was for a break he was in desperate need of taking.

“Reid’s here. Gage is here. They wouldn’t let Mac ruin your company.” And neither would she... But she wouldn’t be here once she convinced Flynn to take a hiatus. Belinda had plainly told Sabrina to “get him out of here” and Sabrina wouldn’t leave him to his own devices. Without work distracting him, she knew he’d be unpacking some hefty emotional baggage.

She refused to let him go through that alone.