Hard Rules (Dirty Money #1)(39)

I start jotting down everything I’ve been told about Brandon Enterprises because writing things down is what my mother said would keep me from missing things. It’s control for me. It’s organization. It’s something I can manage. And right now, things I can manage feel really good. The intercom on my desk buzzes. “Call Shane until you get him to answer.”

I can almost feel the blood run from my face. Shane. He said Shane. I grab the receiver and pick it up. “I’m sorry. Who is Shane?”

“My youngest son. He’s in the Rolodex on your desk or he damn well better be. If you can’t get him yourself, walk over to his office and stand at his assistant’s desk until she gets him on the line.”

“Yes. Yes, sir. On it.” The phone shakes in my trembling hand and I press the receiver to my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut. Oh God. It can’t be my Shane. Actually, how can it not be him? I met him here in this building but I was sure he worked in the law firm, five floors down.

I lower the receiver to the desk, suck in air, and will myself to calm down. I grab the Rolodex, and I turn right to Shane’s contact information, but I can’t dial him. Tabbing forward, I find his assistant and punch her extension. She answers immediately with, “This is Jessica.”

“Hi. I’m,” I hesitate on my name considering the circumstances, and settle on, “Mr. Brandon Senior’s new secretary. He’s trying to reach … your boss.”

She snorts. “Of course he is. Shane’s not here. Tell him he has the deal memo and he’s reviewing it.”

“Oh. Okay. Learning how this works.”

“I’ll find you later and give you some survival tips.”

“Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”

The line goes dead and I buzz my new boss’s office. “Shane has the deal memo but he isn’t in right now.”

“Fuck! Go to Jessica’s desk. Find him.” The intercom goes silent.

“You just found him.”

My breath lodges in my throat at the oh so familiar voice. I set the receiver down and look up, finding Shane towering over me, his blue suit fitted to perfection over a body I’ve seen naked. His expression is pure fury.

“Shane, I can explain.”

“Follow me,” he commands. “And don’t even think about refusing.”

“Emily,” Mr. Brandon says over the intercom.

Shane shakes his head, silently forbidding my reply and my stomach rolls. I need money. I need this job and I’m about to lose it. He turns and starts walking. I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow hard before jumping to my feet and following him. I glance down at my outfit, confirming my simple light blue dress, paired with a black jacket, is conservative enough for church. No cleavage. No clinging to the wrong places. No wrong message. Well. Except that I slept with him and he thinks … I don’t know what he thinks. And oh yeah. I left without a good-bye when he wanted me to stay. I wanted to stay but I can’t show that and I’m really not sure it matters anymore. And I can’t even explain why I left without lying.

We pass through the lobby and I don’t even consider looking at the receptionist. I just stare ahead and keep tracking behind him, traveling a hallway that feels eternal. At a fork, Shane cuts left, assuming I’m following, and of course, I do. Almost immediately we’re headed toward a corner office with a striking blonde I assume to be Jessica sitting at a desk outside the entrance. I catch her curious look and quickly cut my gaze.

Shane doesn’t speak to her, walking directly to what I assume to be his office door. He disappears inside and I follow, hesitating a step before the threshold to steel myself for what is to come. The instant I’m inside, his hand comes down on my arm, and he shuts the door. I blink and I’m against it, and his big body is framing mine, legs trapping my legs, both of his hands now on my shoulders.

“What kind of game are you playing?”

“Game? No. No game. I had no idea—”

“Bullshit. You’re working for my brother.”

“What? No. It’s your father—”

“Is that why he showed at the restaurant? Is that how he knew we were there? You told him.”

“Shane, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t f*cking play coy, Emily. What’s the endgame here?”

“I’m really confused.”

“I’m not. They want you to get inside my head. Well, it won’t work. They’re in it and they’ve pissed me off. Tell my brother or my father I’m taking over this company and they can’t stop me.”

“Shane, I really—”

“You’re a good actress. Because I bought all that innocent, sweet bullshit, and thought you were actually honest. I thought you needed help.”

“Let me go,” I hiss, shoving at his chest, furious now myself.

His hands settle on my ribcage just beneath my breasts, scorching me inside and out. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“I didn’t know who you were.”

“And yet, as you pointed out, you just happened to be at the security desk when I came downstairs.”

“I didn’t know who you were,” I repeat. “And I needed this job.”

“How much did he pay you to f*ck me? Do you get a bonus for doing it again?” His hands slide to my breast.