Читать книгу Private Parts - Tori Carrington, Tori Carrington - Страница 8

THREE HOURS LATER, TROY stood in his office, the telephone plastered to his ear. He was trying to convince a supplier to wait one week longer for the go-ahead on an order he’d placed half a year ago.

Barely visible to him were his surroundings.

He’d grown up in the old lumber mill. Had hid under the metal desk to his right that once belonged to his father and his grandfather before him. Had pressed his nose against the glass walls on three sides of the office, and written his name in the fog circle of condensation from his breath on the multi-paned windows through which thick forests could be seen. Had played on the iron-wrought catwalk and stairs that overlooked the open mill space below—a large area that used to buzz with activity but was now quiet, the old equipment kept more for sentimental reasons than any real use.

Every now and again Troy would catch the scent of wood chips, reminding him of times gone by. But mostly he was too focused on the future to notice it or much about his surroundings.

“I’m going to have to go up on the price,” the sales rep said.

Troy rubbed his closed eyelids. When he opened them back up, his gaze fell on the Christmas card he’d received in today’s mail. From his ex-girlfriend, Gail. And his ex-best friend, Ray. Who were now a married couple sending out holiday cards together.

“Look,” he said into the phone. “My secretary is motioning me into a meeting. Let me get back to you later today or early tomorrow …”

He quickly wrapped up the call and stood for a long moment trying to regain his bearings while he stared at the Christmas card. Lately, his days were full of like phone conversations. And they were beginning to take a toll on him. He’d talked his way around, out of and into so many corners he’d considered investing in a sledgehammer.

“You ready?” Ari asked from the open doorway, standing alongside Patience, his secretary.

Troy glanced through the glass. The conference room was at the far end of the wide elevated walkway, five glass-walled offices in between, while another five lay on the other side of his own office. Meeting participants were milling around, getting coffee and talking to each other. He hadn’t even noticed them come in. Which was saying something, because they would have had to walk by his office.

His gaze went to Manolis Philippidis, who was the only one sitting. He was drumming his fingers against the table and looking at his watch.

Troy tossed the unopened greeting card into the wastebasket, accepted a file from Patience and followed his brother to the meeting room.

After greeting everyone else, he finally stood in front of Philippidis. He extended his hand, half expecting the Greek to ignore him. Instead, he was surprised when he got to his feet and returned the handshake.

“Let’s do business,” Troy said, feeling twenty pounds lighter as he took his seat at the head of the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” a female voice said from the doorway.

Troy looked up to see a beautiful, leggy blonde enter the conference room. A familiar beautiful, leggy blonde.

He nearly fell into his chair as the woman who had introduced herself as Kendall Banks earlier at the diner shook hands with Philippidis and then the rest of the table before presenting herself to him.

Outside of her name, it was the sexy smile that linked her to the woman he’d met earlier. Otherwise, she looked completely different. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, a warm, golden blonde.

She wore makeup that accentuated her green eyes and complemented her naughty mouth, but didn’t overwhelm her pretty face. And she’d exchanged her running pants and tank for a plum-colored suit with a short skirt, her long legs made longer still by the black heels she wore.

Troy found himself tugging at his collar as he took her hand.

“Hello again,” she said with the hint of a smile.

Suddenly, his collar wasn’t the only item of clothing that had grown tight.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said to the room at large, tugging her gaze from his and walking around the table to the only free seat. “I was pulled over by your local sheriff for speeding and … well, afterward I really needed to speed, but didn’t dare.”

Chuckles and laughs.

“Did Barnaby ticket you?” Ari asked.

Kendall’s smile was wide and unapologetic. “Of course not.”

Philippidis cleared his throat. “Miss Banks will be the point man … or woman, rather, in putting this deal together. Seeing as my regular point men—” he looked over at Palmer and Caleb “—are now working for you.”

Troy couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from Kendall’s face where she’d taken the seat at the far end of the table. The brief arch of her right brow told him she hadn’t known about the little detail her boss had just shared. Did that mean she was also in the dark about the history behind their business dealings?

Ari was the one to clear his throat this time. “Troy?”

He blinked and stared at his brother.

“Oh, yes. Right.” He opened his file and his secretary took her cue and began handing out the notes he’d had printed up. “If you’ll refer to page two, paragraph four …”

THREE HOURS AND A CATERED working lunch later, Kendall lingered at the conference table rewriting notes that didn’t need rewriting while the other meeting attendees left one by one.

Finally, she and Troy were alone in the room.

She slowly closed her leather-bound notebook and sat back in her chair, watching as he walked from the door where he’d just seen off his brother to the window overlooking the grounds to her right.

“Did this used to be a mill?” she asked, appreciating the fit of his navy blue suit, rather than their surroundings.

When they’d met earlier at the diner, she’d been instantly struck by how hot Troy Metaxas was. Intensely so. And his conversation with his brother before the others had arrived had amused her to no end.

So there was no one currently in Mr. Troy Metaxas’s life then? Good news for her. Because there was no one in her life, either. Not after her last boyfriend had taken a powder, saying something about her being too forward for him, too outspoken.

How was she supposed to know that his mother hadn’t been aware that he’d lost his job three months ago?

Well, she did now. And Kendall was currently without a boyfriend. But seeing as they’d only dated for four months, she wasn’t really crying in her chardonnay.

“Yes.” Troy finally answered her question as he turned from the window. “My family owned this lumber mill for nearly a century before closing it for good four years ago.”

She nodded. “I like that you’re holding on to the history.”

She’d moved her chair back from the table and slowly crossed her legs. Troy stood to her right, giving him a bird’s-eye view of her suggestive movements.

He didn’t disappoint as he leisurely took in the line of her legs. She worked hard on them, tried to run at least three miles, four times a week, so she knew they were fantastic. And wasn’t averse to using them to their full advantage.

“So how long have you been working for Philippidis?” he asked.

She raised her brows. “How long? Well, that’s a complicated question.”

He waited.

“You see, I don’t actually work directly for Manolis. He brought me on board especially for this project.”

She didn’t understand his grimace. “And you’ve known him for … how long?”

She rubbed the front of her shoe against the back of her opposite calf. “I’ve been familiar with him for, oh, about eight months or so. He helped my father out with our law firm in Portland.”

“He owns it,” he stated rather than asked.

“Yes. Manolis currently owns it. But my father’s hoping to buy it back at some point.”

“I’d tell him not to hold his breath.”

“Oh, the hostility.” She put her notebook into her briefcase. “I picked up on it during the meeting. What’s the history here?”

Troy scrubbed his hair back from his forehead. The telltale sign made him all the more attractive to her. “It doesn’t matter.”

He looked at her again, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was interested, or if he’d rather she’d left.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

He gestured toward the table. “I don’t mean to cast a shadow on your qualifications, but—”

“But you’re casting a shadow.”

He didn’t blink.

Kendall slowly uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. She collected her briefcase and sauntered over to him. “Rest assured, Mr. Metaxas, I’m very, very good at what I do.”

“Troy. Please.”

She stood within breathing distance of him and she noticed the way he seemed to inhale her scent.

Hot. Definitely hot.

“As to why I, um, stayed behind after the meeting …” She allowed her gaze to skim over his tall, solid form. “Well, I won’t lie to you, Troy. Ever since we crossed paths this morning, before I knew who you were, I’ve been attracted to you.”

He cleared his throat, apparently not as unaffected by her presence as he’d like her to think. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Miss Banks.”

“Kendall, please.” She smiled. “And I don’t mix business with pleasure, either. My business is my pleasure.” She slid her free hand inside the lapel of his suit jacket, running her fingertips along the expensive material, and the back of her knuckles against his tight abs through his broadcloth shirt.

He inhaled sharply.

“And I happen to think that we can be as successful in the bedroom as in the boardroom …”