Chapter 13

Ira

Monday morning. Cloudy. Drizzly. Enough to make me carry an umbrella until I reach the building we're still sequestered in this week. Naturally, I run into Kathleen in the elevator.

The operator hits the button for our suite and steps out again, the doors closing in front of us. Kathleen is fighting between looking relaxed and tensing up around me. I don't blame her, but I wish she wouldn't. It's making me tense.

"Good morning," I finally say, wrapping the plastic wrap around my umbrella as securely as possible. I text my assistant – who is in the building with me this week – to bring some coffee from my favorite café down the street. The coffee pot isn't going to be enough today. "Have a nice weekend?"

Kathleen glances at me before looking at the mirror paneling. She's very business. Heavy coat, minimal makeup, and silky blond hair pulled into her French twist. When she wears her hair like that, it makes her neck look longer, especially when there's no jewelry there.

I briefly remember kissing that throat three days ago. How warm she had been. Her heart beating furiously as I rubbed her slit and parted it for… you know.

Great.

It's eight in the morning, I haven't been properly caffeinated yet, and I'm already getting aroused standing next to this woman. Please put me out of my misery.

"The weekend was fine," she says. "I hear you had quite the garden party at your estate."

The numbers tick away the floors as we pass them by. "Let me guess who told you that."

"Not your mother. I haven't seen her in a while."

The idea of Kathleen and my mother conspiring about something makes me want to vomit. "The party was fine. You and your father's absence were noticed."

"We couldn't make it. Sorry."

Why is she sorry? Not like I missed her this weekend.

We arrive at our floor. The doors open. Vivian, my assistant, waits to ride down to get that coffee I asked for. Good mornings are exchanged. Kathleen walks ahead and hails her mousy assistant who cowers at her boss's feet. If Kathleen Allen were the type to employ her lovers, I would assume she was in a kinky relationship with that poor girl. (Or would it be a lucky girl?)

Reaching the office space is a mistake… because right there, mocking me, is Lara Anderssen dressed in her tight red skirt and chiffon black blouse.

She's stunning. She knows it. She smiles at me.

"Ira." Her sweet voice chafes my ear. "I'm glad you're here. There's someone I want you and Kathleen to meet."

The woman of the moment is behind me, and even though we face the one standing between us and our project, I still tense at Kathleen's presence. Apparently, fucking her only made certain things worse. Who knew?

"And to what do we owe this pleasure, Lara?" I ask. "I thought that everything that needed to be said was exchanged yesterday?"

A woman I've never met turns around and stands in the office doorway. Tall. Self-assured. Older than my mother. She extends her hand with a fake smile. "Colleen Woodrow," she introduces herself. "You must be Ira Mathison."

The way she looks at me says she damn well knows me. Probably from tabloid trash.

We shake hands. Kathleen introduces herself next, and Colleen Woodrow is as inexplicably cool to her.

The same registers in my head. After what Lara said yesterday, I went home and researched the council. I was going to have to do it anyway, but that was a perfect impetus.

Colleen Woodrow is the co-chair of the council. A big deal when you consider she had to be voted into the position. One of those positions you never think about because you're too busy deciding on who you want to be mayor or governor. But no, at some point in my life, I probably checked the box saying that I voted for Mrs. Woodrow. Now I'm going to regret it.

"Mrs. Woodrow had a few ideas about the presentation that I would like you to hear." Lara gestures to the office, and Kathleen and I can't help but give each other a look.

This is going to be hell.

Sure enough, our impromptu meeting at nine in the morning has everything to do with Friday's proposal. As one of the council leaders, Mrs. Woodrow wants to ensure we know what to expect and what we should do to prepare. I can handle that. Kathleen's twitching, her dominant personality at complete odds with this woman. So is mine, but I'm better at covering it up. Kathleen looks like she's about to slap the woman.

I'm not sure I would stop her.

The rub comes about twenty minutes into this farce of a meeting. A farce because it's keeping us from getting to our real work.

"As it is, Ms. Allen and Ms. Mathison…" Colleen primps as if we're her mirror. "The double proposition is a good one, but I'm afraid both the community and the council will not be in the mood to approve both ventures at the same time." When she's met with our bemusement, she explains, "Either the museum or the functioning remodeled hotel will have to come first. I'm afraid that asking for both at the same time will put people… on edge. As it is, we think both are fantastic ideas if done tastefully, and we look forward to seeing both of your presentations."

"But?"

"But only one will be selected if either of them is to be at all."

"So let me get this straight," I interject, putting my hand in the middle of the table. "You want us to continue with our presentations… but only one of us will be ‘selected' to continue forward as planned?"

"If either is selected at all."

"Oh, well then."

This is bullshit, and we all know it. I don't know whose rad idea this is, but either Kathleen or I are going to be in big, big trouble with our fathers. Either my father is going to come down hard on me for not securing us the money-making hotel, or Kathleen will be further humiliated because her family doesn't get their museum.

It's not fair, and we all know it.

This business isn't fair. We all make our peace with it, but sometimes you come up against something so stupid and arbitrary that even this hardened heart is amazed by it. This is one of those instances. Does she seriously expect me to believe that the community is too sensitive to accept a renovated hotel and a new museum at the same time?

"We know that neither of you wants to hear something like this," Lara says, patting Colleen's shoulder. They look like bosom buddies, all right. "But I'm afraid it's how it has to be. If the community decides to accept a renovation, it can only be one or the other for now. The other can come later once it's been proven that the first is a success."

Kathleen shakes her head as if she's ridding her brain of an evil spirit. "So Ira and I are essentially competing against each other."

"Don't think of it that way," Lara says with that ridiculous air of superiority. "Unless of course it makes you work harder!"

Her laugh is enough to make me curl my fist and for Kathleen to sneer into the back of her hand.

Long after they leave, we're left sitting here in the office, our spirits fucked. Not even our bubbly assistants can bring us back from the dead. There isn't even time or energy to think about what happened Friday night. The only good to come out of this is that I no longer want to think about anything but having sex with Kathleen.

Apparently, she's my rival now.

We've gone from being partners in this endeavor to vying for different things. Kathleen wants to prove herself, and I want to not fuck up my father's investment. Before, that fueled our teamwork. It probably fueled the whole sex thing too, but that's neither here nor there.

Now we're competing. I don't care how they spin it. We've gone from all in to only one can survive.

This is going to be great for our relationship.