Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, there was a knock on Evan’s office door as he was setting up his desk, and Bill stuck his head in.

“Getting everything all set up?” he asked before pushing the door open and walking inside.

“Yeah. This computer is an asshole though.”

Bill laughed. “I’m sure it is. I hate technology. That’s why I call IT.” He leaned against one of the visitor chairs. “Listen, we have a meeting today with one of our larger clients, and I’d like you to take over their account.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I feel like there’s a catch coming?”

“Welllll,” Bill said, scratching the back of his head as he drew out the word. “I do believe it’s a company you know quite well.”

“How well?”

“Ah…I’d say you’ve had close, personal relations with this particular establishment. Perhaps you could take Reagan with you. Let everyone see you’re back in the game.”

At the mention of Ms. Spencer, Evan’s cock took notice and he reminded himself, Not an option.

“I can handle it without Ms. Spencer. I’m sure she has a lot to juggle.” Including fuckwit’s dick from the other night.

“I don’t doubt that, but I’d like her to show you the ropes.”

“If you think that’s best.”

Bill nodded. “I do. Meeting’s at eleven. Good luck with your, uh...technology situation. If you need any help with that, don’t call me.”

An hour later, there was a much more perfunctory knock on his door, and before he could say, “Come in,” it opened and Reagan walked in.

“You ready?”

“I was told to be. I can follow simple orders.”

“I remember,” she said knowingly. “Although you put up a good fight.”

He shrugged into his suit jacket and grabbed his briefcase. “You know, that night, I thought you were a gift sent to ease all my sexual urges. For a few hours, anyway. But now, I realize you’re just a spawn of the devil sent to make my life a living hell.”

“Aw, you’re such a flatterer. I’ve barely made an effort, but now, I’ll make sure to kick it up a notch. Shall we go?” She didn’t wait for him to follow before heading down the hall.

Walking behind this woman was becoming something of a habit for him. But he had to admit that, if he was going to follow anyone around, Reagan would be his first choice. The woman had a spectacular ass.

She punched the down button for the elevator, and when it opened, they stepped in, both making sure to stand on opposite sides of the empty space. As the doors closed, the air inside hummed with tension.

“Don’t get any ideas about this elevator,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

With that comment, he could feel his palms sweat as the urge to touch her became an exercise in restraint.

“Any ideas...such as? Your legs wrapped around my waist?” He took a step toward her. “My body pinning yours to the wall as you grind against my dick?” Another step. “Yeah, I’m not having those ideas.”

Reagan angled her chin to him and lowered her lashes as if contemplating his suggestion. “Ordinarily, I would say no to an elevator quickie, but…” She placed her palm on his lapel, but before she could do anything more, he reached up and covered her hand, trapping it against his chest.

“Say the word and I’ll hit the emergency button.”

Time seemed to stop as they stood there, neither making the first move, and just as he was about to say, “Fuck it,” and lose himself in her, the elevator chimed.

Reagan pulled her hand away, an almost-disappointed look on her face. “Time’s up.”

“Saved by the bell?” he asked as the doors slipped open.

“Saved from what?” She headed into the lobby and turned when he didn’t immediately follow. “You don’t scare me, Evan.”

He thought about that as he stepped off the elevator and walked towards her. When they were eye to eye, he stated, “Maybe I should.”

* * *

“EVAN JAMES?” RON Whitehead, the CEO of Whitehead International, said in disbelief as he met them in the lobby. His expression showed his contempt for the man in front of him. “I thought you’d been run out of the business.”

Evan lowered his outstretched hand and shoved it in his pocket. Not even two seconds in the door and he was being put on the defensive.

“I’m sure ‘hoped’ is more like it,” he replied caustically.

“That little stunt you pulled cost my VP half his retirement in the divorce.”

“And how is Amy doing?”

“You little shit—”

“Evan...guys, guys,” Reagan cut in. “We’re here for business, not to rehash the past. Do you think you both could manage to put those issues aside for at least a half hour?”

“If you think for one minute that anyone in this office, especially me, is going to trust our investments with him, you must be out of your mind. And so must Bill for that matter.”

He’d been wondering the same fucking thing all morning. He didn’t expect to be forgiven for his transgressions, but there was a part of him that was hoping people had started to forget. Which, coming from him, was hypocritical, because if there was one thing he’d learned in childhood, it was that no one ever really forgot when they had been wronged.

“Mr. Whitehead. Ron,” Reagan cajoled and took a step toward him. “Kelman and Whitehead have had such a wonderful relationship over the past several years. We only want to continue that. Evan’s proven to be able to predict where the profit margins will come in almost to the dollar. No one’s track record is better than his.”

The man stayed silent, but the angry flush seemed to be fading from his face and neck.

Reagan placed her hand on Ron’s arm and told him with a confident smile, “Plus, I’ll be working alongside him the whole time. You’re getting a two-for-one deal.” She winked.

Ron exhaled and patted her hand but still aimed a glare over at Evan, who held his look without flinching. After a few beats, Ron gave a curt nod and gestured for them to follow to his office.

* * *

“THAT WENT WELL,” Reagan said as they walked out of the building. “Well, aside from the ‘sleeping with the VP’s wife’ comment.”

“Are you fucking serious?” He stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face her. “Is this the kind of shit I’ll have to deal with every time I go to a meeting? I mean, Jesus. Why did you and Bill even bother?”

“We bothered because you’re good at what you do.”

Letting out a disgusted sigh, he ran a hand over his face and back through his hair. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but fuck.”

“Hey, you have an opportunity here. Don’t let anyone scare you away.”

“They don’t scare me. They piss me off. I didn’t make those women spread their legs. They fucking begged for it.”

“Yes, I can see why,” she said as she pushed the wind-whipped strands of hair out of her face. “You’re so...charming.”

“Worked for you.”

“I won’t deny that.”

“Then get off my ass.”

She leaned to the side, angling her head as if to get a peek at his behind. “But you have such a nice ass…”

“You’re making it really fucking hard to behave,” he said, pointing accusingly at her. “So unless you want me to pull you inside the nearest hotel to work off my frustration, I’d lay the fuck off the flirting.”

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“By teasing me? Don’t insinuate anything you don’t plan to follow through on.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I think we both know I don’t have a problem with follow through.”

“I’ve noticed, and so has every other man who’s ever laid eyes on you. It’s hard not to be drawn to someone like you. Femme fatale. That’s what makes you so dangerous.”

A vixen smile spread across Reagan’s lips. “Oh, you have to stop with the compliments today. First, I’m the devil, and now, a femme fatale? I’m starting to think you like me.”

“I don’t like anyone.” He smirked. “At least not for more than a night.”

She let out a loud laugh. “You’re full of shit, Evan James. But I’ll let you keep that cocky exterior up in case anyone tries to see past it.”

“How thoughtful,” he grumbled, moving by her to continue down the block.

“Listen,” Reagan said, catching up with him. “Of course Ron’s still bitter about what happened. His VP’s like a brother, and after everything went down, he took some time off—a lot of time off—and their profits took a nosedive.” She paused, and he waited to see what sage advice she was about to spout out next. “Perhaps this can be your moment to...redeem yourself. I’m sure he’ll be much more forgiving once you make him twice what he lost.”

When she nudged him playfully, he looked over at her with a skeptical expression.

Maybe she was right. This was a chance to redeem himself, in both the business and personal worlds. He had to start somewhere—why not the easier of the two?