Nefarious | Paperback

Dane Russ and Val Montgomery don't look like villains.

The world knows them as the whiz kids who skyrocketed to fame and fortune with their wildly successful trading company—before they lost it all in a humiliating hostile takeover. Now, bored out of their minds at respectable nine-to-five jobs, the pair plot the demise of everyone who's ever wronged them. Including each other.

Val aims to destroy Geraldo, the man who stole their company. Meanwhile, Dane just wants to get even with Noelle, the woman who publicly dumped him. All he needs to do is woo her back, then break her heart. Easy.

When Geraldo's daughter shows up in an internship program, Val plots to send the girl home to daddy with her ethics compromised. and she ropes Dane in to distract him from a fake romance that's beginning to look too real. Behind a sterling reputation, Val weaves a nefarious plan to ruin Geraldo's daughter, eliminate Noelle, and seduce Dane for herself. But by crossing Dane, she's lit a powder keg, and it's about to go off.

WEEK ONE

MONDAY

Dane sat in his office, hiding from the gaggle of pimply new interns invading the trading floor. On the task bar of his open laptop, the IM program flashed continually. There was no point clicking on it; the instant he acknowledged the message, someone else would vie for his attention.

I oughta just shut that down and make them knock on my door.

As if he’d conjured it, a light tap brought his gaze up. The door opened a crack, and he caught the backside of Val as she turned and walked away.

He slid open the bottom drawer of his desk and rummaged for the crumpled pack of cigarettes. He’d let it be known he was trying to quit so nobody would question why he rarely smoked. Out of sympathy, they never questioned him when he did. Not that he ever did. The cigarettes were nothing more than a prop, a means to an end. He’d bought the current pack a year ago. The half-empty pint of Maker’s Mark lying under the cigarettes, however, had only been there a day.

As he left his office, he deliberately lifted the pack and slid it into his suit coat pocket for all the world to see him slinking down for a secret smoke. He glanced furtively but conspicuously from side to side until he’d left the trading floor. Once in the first-floor lobby, he resumed his natural confident gait, lending him an air of aristocracy.

Out in the smoking area, Val waited, arms crossed, cigarette hand resting on her elbow. Juxtaposed to the warping picnic table and patchy, trash-strewn grass, Val glittered like fool’s gold. Her perfectly coiffed blond hair shone in the sun but didn’t budge despite a mild June wind. Everything about Val was anchored, moored, unyielding. Only Dane knew how to make that rock bend. And only sometimes.

Val faced the four-story structure but kept her eyes trained on Dane and nodded once in greeting. The temptation to look up at the office windows for observers might overwhelm anyone else, despite the inability to penetrate the glass. Whoever might be watching them would see nothing but a casual encounter.

Dane passed her and sat on top of the picnic table, faced at an angle away from the building, feet on the bench. He hunched over and focused on the unlit cigarette in his hand. “You know we can’t meet here again for at least two weeks.”

She turned a quarter of the way toward him, enough to appear to be conversing as one would expect of two people sharing the same space. Not enough to show interest in the topic. “I did message you, but you were ignoring me.”

“Don’t take it so personally. I ignore everyone.”

She took a long drag and exhaled. “We only have a minute before they start to show up.”

“Right. Interns.” If any of the new kids saw them out there alone together, they’d scrounge up a cigarette just to come and cozy up. It’s what I would have done in their place. Admirable, but irritating. “So get to the point.”

“Selena Valencia. Have you met her?”

He rubbed his chin and tried to place the name. “Valencia? Any relation to Geraldo?”

“It’s Geraldo’s daughter. She took an internship here under me. Isn’t that delicious?”

“Geraldo sent his daughter here?”

“No, that’s the delightful part. He doesn’t know she came here. Apparently, he’s occupied with some business in Germany and told his daughter to find an internship, probably expecting her to stay in the city at one of the obvious financial firms. But she’s apparently eager. She wants to learn from the best.”

Dane yawned. “And so she came here. Fascinating. You dragged me out here to gossip.”

“Of course not.” She snapped at him but then slicked her gold hair back and smiled at him, adjusting her tone to match. “Of course not. I have a favor to ask of you.”

Across the yard, a young man had opened the door and paced in a narrow circle, gathering his courage to approach the infamous pair.

“You’d better spit it out. We’ve got company.”

Val’s smile twisted wickedly. She sat on the picnic bench, beside Dane’s feet, and ran a finger under the hem of his slacks, lightly brushing along the edge of his sock. “Do you ever think about when we started together? The exhilarating risks we took?” She inched up the inside of his calf. “Do you ever think about that one night? Do you even remember it?”

Dane shifted, but left his foot firmly planted. He knew what she was up to, but he wanted to know why. “Of course I remember.” He remembered waking up to find her gone. “Is that why we’re here? Do you want to take me home, Val?”

She withdrew her hand. “When it comes time to decide which intern you’ll mentor, I want you to pick Selena.”

“To what end?”

“To train her to bend rules and skirt the law. I want her to leave here an expert in ethical violations, without even knowing how amoral she’s become. I want to send her back to her daddy with an appetite for corruption.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Dane watched the awkward boy make up his mind. He’d taken a few hesitant steps toward the picnic table, still out of earshot.

“You have as much cause for vengeance as I do. If it weren’t for Geraldo, we’d still have our company.” She snarled. “R&M was our company.”

He knew he ought to feel touched she’d taken his ouster to heart, but he’d spent the past three years moving on. Val was never as forgiving.

Dane rested his elbows on his knees. “You could have stayed on without me. I hope you don’t think I’m to blame for your current situation. I shudder to think of how you’d punish me.”

“Very funny. You know I’m only loyal to you, Dane.”

He doubted she was loyal to anyone, but she had left their company to follow him to the Midwest, and he couldn’t forget that. “And I’m forever grateful. Truly, I’m humbled.”

Val narrowed an eye as though she could parse his bullshit enough to detect the sincerity behind his sarcastic tone. “Then you’ll help me set the girl on a ruinous path?”

Dane slid the unlit cigarette back in the pack. “I’m afraid I’m going to be distracted with another endeavor for some time.”

“Let me guess. Seducing the head of accounting? She seems like your type.”

He gave Val one long look. “No. I plan to seduce our new CEO.”

“Noelle?” Val scoffed. “How is that any kind of challenge? You could do that this morning and spend the rest of your summer with Selena.”

“You seem to forget history.”

“Oh, are you still nursing that wound? Or is this about Dane’s ego? She spurned you before you could bed her, and you’ll never rest until you check that box. Is that it?”

Dane clenched a fist. “I was so close. Until she shot me down with no explanation.”

Val frowned. “And publicly, too. Yes. How humiliating. If I’d known you carried a torch, I might not have insisted the board offer her the job.”

“Why did you? You never cared for her.”

“Perhaps not, but she might prove useful to me. There’s a story to her sudden resignation from R&M, and I intend to find out what it is. Maybe she holds a grudge against Geraldo as well. I could exploit that.” She dropped her cigarette and ground it out. “If you don’t spook her. What do you have planned?”

“What I failed to do last time.” He leaned forward to whisper in Val’s ear. “I’m going to seduce her before she realizes what happened. I want her to think she’s resisting me only to find she can’t.”

Val rolled her eyes. “Pedestrian. Let me guess. Was Noelle the last person to break your heart?”

“No.” Dane stepped off the table and tilted his head toward Val. “You were.”

The corner of Val’s mouth curled up slightly. “I believe I’ve rectified that.”

“Right. And then substituted rejection with betrayal.” He enjoyed seeing the color drain from her face.

She recovered enough to whisper harshly, “Let it go, Dane.”

He pushed the knife in another inch. “I already have.”

The awkward boy had circled around them and made his approach. Val regained the beneficent facade she reserved for the rest of the world. A strand of hair had escaped her tight control, and she tucked it behind her ear, head held high. She shot one more calculated glance at Dane. “Hurry along. This one looks ripe for the picking.”

Dane popped the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket and left Val to her games.

 

Email recovered from the corporate hard drive.

Sophie,

Guess where I am? Did you notice my new Fleetwood Capital email address? I’m here! I don’t know if I’m supposed to be writing personal emails from here, but I couldn’t resist breaking in my brand-new account!

I’m sitting in my cube! I have my own cube!! Okay, so it’s more like a shallow desk, but there is a small partition between computers. I don’t have anything to do here just yet but swivel in my office chair. We’ll be in training for a week before (I hope) they place us with mentors. Two more before we get to even touch the system. But then six weeks working in a real trading environment!

I hadn’t seen Val Montgomery since she and my father had their falling out years ago. I was nervous to speak to her considering, but she was so sweet. She complimented me on my glasses. I just stood there half stuttering and half rambling on about what an honor it was to be here.

I’ve yet to meet Dane Russ. But I did see him going into his office earlier. I cannot believe I’m going to be working under them. They were so young when they founded their company, and I know if I pay attention, I can learn so much. Maybe I’ll even be able to pick their brains and find out how they managed to get so successful so fast.

We have our first meeting with Val in a few minutes. The other interns look about as nervous and eager as me. I hope I’m not the worst one here. They’re probably all top of their classes, too. 

Write me back and tell me about summer school. I don’t envy you stuck in class while I’m getting first-hand knowledge in the real world. 

Much love,

Selena

 

Val surveyed the room. Fifteen interns squeezed around the long table. Every chair was occupied. Not a single one of these kids exuded the boredom she felt. They watched her as if they were in the bear exhibit at the zoo. Will she come out of the cave? Will she attack? They thought they were as safe as if they were on the other side of the barricades. And they normally would be. The innocent ones no longer interested her. Except one.

Selena wore a smart new suit. Crisp. Probably purchased a month ago in anticipation of this day. She had a fresh-scrubbed glow about her. With her pen poised above a perfectly blank notepad, she clearly expected to leave this room with her mind expanded. As if it were so easy. It would take all summer to mold her brain the way Val planned.

She scanned the other interns, chess pieces on her board, sizing up their value to her. So far, the only one with the chutzpah to approach her sat at the far corner of the table. Anthony. He stood out in the way he sat. Leaning back in his chair, one foot crossed on his knee. Val raised an eyebrow at him, and he straightened up and put his forearms on the table. Now they were all a neat row of matching pawns.

The screen behind her came to life with the first of many PowerPoint slides. She could give this speech in her sleep, but she’d learned that the interns would try to write down her every word. The slides would at least help them get it right. The pens flew across the notebooks already, and she saw the words Welcome to Fleetwood Capital in fifteen different sets of handwriting.

She sighed. “Good morning and welcome to Fleetwood. We’re so glad to have all of you here today. I trust you’ve settled into your new desks. If you have any remaining issues, please contact Rosamund Shirley. She’ll make sure you have everything you need. Now, for the next hour, I’ll be taking you through some basics about our company, who we are, what we stand for, how we stand in the market today, and of course what we are aiming to achieve.”

The door swung open, and Dane waltzed in. Fifteen intern heads swiveled away from Val and gawked at him. Anthony vacated his chair with alacrity, as though he feared someone else might beat him to it. He gestured for Dane to sit, but Dane’s lip curled up on one side in disdain, and he simply leaned against the back wall, languidly pushing a stir stick around his Styrofoam coffee cup. Dane never sat at meetings. These kids will learn.

Anthony sheepishly pulled his chair back and returned to his place at the table.

As Val waited for order to return, she let her gaze linger on Dane, draped against the wall in all his languorous beauty. She knew he’d spent a fortune to look like he did, but knowing it didn’t make her appreciate it less. Of course, she’d seen him before he’d learned to groom himself so handsomely. She’d taught him after all. But he’d been born with those dark sultry eyes and that decadent luscious mouth. Fully aware she was drinking in her fill, he puckered his lips like he might blow her a kiss.

She inhaled, searching for a hint of his scent. If it wouldn’t be considered unseemly, she might be tempted to cross the room and take him up on his implied offer.

Instead she turned her attention to the interns, now waiting for her lead.

“This company,” she continued, “was founded by Martin Fleetwood in 1957 with a specialization in mortgage trading.” Val clicked through the slides, expanding on the historical events that nobody wanted or needed to know. Martin Fleetwood had died years ago. Besides Rosamund Shirley, nobody currently here had ever worked under that scrupulous man. He’d roll over in his grave if he knew the stewardship had passed on to the likes of Dane Russ. And Val, though her reputation was spotless. The only stain on her record was her connection with Dane. But as the worshipful faces in the room could attest, she couldn’t be blamed for following him into exile.

The subject of the slides moved on to the current state of the company. “Have any of you researched the company’s stock position?”

Anthony raised his hand. “Yes, ma’am. Stocks are trading at thirty-eight as of this morning.”

Val glanced at Dane. “Are we up or down?”

Anthony opened his mouth, but Dane’s voice commanded the room’s attention. “The market’s hot, and our stock is rising.”

Val controlled her expression, but the corner of her mouth rose slightly. “What do you make of our throughput?”

Dane lifted his shoulders from the wall, engaged now. “I like our position with regard to market penetration.”

The interns had stopped taking notes, and their heads followed the volley as though they were spectators at a tennis match.

Val set up the shot. “And the projected yield?”

“Coming together.” Dane crumpled the Styrofoam and tossed it into the trash bin.

Val exhaled. “Our stockholders will be very satisfied.”

Dane reached in his pocket and produced a single cigarette. He toyed with it for a heartbeat before walking out the door.

Val bit the end of her pen. My most valuable chess piece moves in every direction.

Except into her bed.

No, she wouldn’t cede that game until she knew how they could both win.

With all the eyes back on Val, she proceeded to lecture them on expectations of ethics and compliance, chuckling to herself as they diligently took notes.

 

 

Dane tucked the cigarette back into the pack in his pocket and entered the stairwell. For the past week, he’d been keeping tabs on Noelle’s daily routine and was reasonably sure she’d take a coffee break within the next thirty minutes. There was no good reason for him to be using the kitchen on her floor of the building, but he’d spent three years cultivating an eccentric behavior pattern, and nobody was likely to question his decision to get his coffee from the third floor. Of course, he realized that this would likely permanently alter Noelle’s own morning routine if she thought she might run into him on her coffee break.

The kitchen was empty except for the elderly Rosamund Shirley. Rosamund was a short woman, as wide as she was tall. He’d overheard co-workers refer to her as Violet Bowling Ball. What they couldn’t know was that she was once a striking beauty who nearly brought the company to an end when she caught Martin Fleetwood’s eye. Their affair was brief but notorious at the time. Dane marveled that even someone as upstanding as Martin Fleetwood could be brought down by love. Or lust more accurately. He did right by Rosamund by allowing her to remain on as the head of human resources, but he repaired his marriage. And Rosamund repaired to the Old Country Buffet.

That was already ancient history when Dane was a kid and his dad sat on the board. He’d overheard his parents dissecting the gossip, cringing at their judgmental tone. When Dane got dragged to the office, Rosamund had been the only person who ever took a moment to talk to him like he was more than his father’s son.

Dane approached her quietly and laid his arm across her shoulders. “Hello, doll. What’s shakin’?”

She took a step back and assessed him over the top of her half-moon glasses. “Dane!” Her orange lipstick had escaped the confines of her mouth, giving her the smile of a clown. “Your hair gets darker every time I see you.”

Dane bit back the fact that she said that to him every time she saw him. His hair had always been so dark it bordered on black. If anything, he’d begun to notice the appearance of a few grays at his temple. He winked. “When will I convince you to run away with me?”

“You incorrigible flirt.” She giggled like a young girl—a young girl suffering from the early signs of emphysema. “My running days are behind me now, but we could always sneak off for a quick roll in the hay.”

“Don’t tease me. You know you’d just break my heart.” His smile melted, and he touched her arm. “But now, how are you doing, Rose?”

She pulled her coffee from the machine and ripped open a packet of fake sweetener with arthritic fingers. “You know how it goes. One foot in the grave. One foot dancing a congo line.”

“You scared me this year with your heart.” He eyed her mug. “Shouldn’t you watch your caffeine intake?”

“And you need to cut back on the cigarettes. I worry about you, Dane. You don’t take good care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Rose. It’s not so bad. I can quit anytime.” He flashed her a grin to let her know he was aware that’s what an addict would say.

She shook her head. “I don’t see you enough. You always keep my wit sharp. Come visit me when you have a chance.” She started to move toward the kitchen door but stopped and placed her hand on his cheek. “You know, your father was always so proud of you.”

Dane swallowed. His dad had been proud of him, of all his accomplishments, up until his disgraceful expulsion from his own company. “Your problem is we spoiled you. You think you’re impervious to consequence.” He hadn’t spoken to his dad again after that. And now he never would. At least the old bastard had never gotten around to disinheriting him before he dropped dead of a heart attack. Who’s impervious to consequence now, Dad?

Rosamund’s bony fingers dragged across his skin, a tender caress from a crone. Dane laid his hand on hers. “Thanks, Rose. That means a lot.”

Once Rosamund had left, Dane stood in front of the coffee machine with a packet half in the slot and waited. Within five minutes, he heard the clack of heels on the floor in the hallway and snapped the coffee maker shut. The machine kicked into gear with the fizz of pressurized water forced through the narrow package, exploding into the cup below. Dane leaned casually against the counter and lifted his eyes as Noelle entered the kitchen, a model of professional poise.

She stopped short. “Oh. Dane. Hello.”

Dane let his gaze travel down her body, openly assessing her. The new job suited her. She was a picture-perfect CEO in her smartly tailored navy business jacket and skirt with an unfortunately modest white blouse. Her blond hair had been severely tamed in a twist at her neck.

She seemed even more confident, more stylish, and somehow more beautiful than ever. Colder, too.

When she’d encountered Dane on her first day, she’d glared so disdainfully, he’d nearly dropped his nonchalant facade to ask her what he’d done to earn her scorn. But he’d spent too much time in Val’s company, and rather than react emotionally, his brain immediately calculated the long game: vindication.

Studying her now, Dane wished they had no history together, that they could start fresh. He imagined freeing her hair, loosening her buttons, coaxing a human response from her. His pants tightened at the fantasy.

If he could crack through Noelle’s marble exterior, he might just stand a chance. He almost did once.

He grinned. “Noelle. I’m glad to run into you. I was hoping to set up a time to come to your office and talk about my needs.”

A spot of crimson appeared on her neck and rose. She dropped her gaze. “Your needs?”

“Servers. We’re nearly over capacity as it is. The production servers are under considerable load. If we don’t take care of servicing them soon, they could overheat.”

The red reached her cheeks. She laid her hand on the counter. “Well, of course, you need to order new hardware.”

“Right. But before I can put in a request for acquisition, I’m going to need your consent.” He leveled his eyes at her, enjoying all the signs of her discomfort. She controlled her facial features, but her chest rose and fell quickly. When she lifted her hand off the counter, she left behind a damp print. Dane took a step toward her and laughed when she jumped back a foot. “Do I make you nervous?”

Noelle backed away from Dane until she reached the door frame. “Of course not. Email me the necessary paperwork.” And coffee forgotten, she turned and walked away.

Dane followed her to the edge of the kitchen and made eye contact with Leonard in support. Leonard nodded once, and Dane headed back to his office secure in the knowledge he’d learn Noelle’s new coffee routine soon enough.

Back in his office, he poured the coffee into the dirt surrounding the fake cactus and filled his mug with bourbon.

  

Val scrolled through the Facebook gallery. In every picture, Geraldo had the same twenty-something platinum blond on his arm. He had a consistent type, it seemed.

She slid his worn business card from her wallet and tapped it on the desk. She’d been twenty-six when Geraldo joined the board at R&M eager to put his stamp on the company. She might have been a bit older than his usual crop of arm candy, but she had something those other girls didn’t; she kept his mind engaged. They’d been well-matched in that regard. His clever banter and diabolical sense of humor amused her enough to intrigue her. By the time she discovered his possessive jealousy, they were more than friends.

For her part, Geraldo’s philandering had never made her feel jealous so much as wronged; he’d expected more fidelity from her than he’d ever given in return. He had a particularly irrational concern about her relationship with Dane—to Val’s never-ending amusement. Of all the men in her life, Dane had always been the one Geraldo never need fear.

She’d cultivated this jealousy like a meth addiction. As long as his focus was trained on Dane, he missed any signs she was seeing other men. She never had difficulty keeping her affairs secret, but pretending she pined for Dane proved deliciously fun and effective, especially since it had a kernel of truth. But Geraldo could never prove his suspicions because things between Val and Dane had been settled for years. Ever since they’d met in college, they’d worked together, flirted openly, but kept the romance safely at bay.

Until that New Year’s Eve.

Val’s eyes closed, and she let herself relive that earth-shattering night, wondering again what would have happened if she’d followed her heart instead of her head.

She stood alone in the middle of the crowd, one minute before midnight. As the partygoers counted down the last seconds of the year, she scanned the room, tapping her foot and searching for Geraldo. That man didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body, so it wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d left early, but she felt like a fool, and there would be hell to pay.

An airhorn blared, and all heads swiveled toward the giant monitors displaying cheesy animatronics counting down to midnight.

She had no intention of staying a second longer, but then her eyes landed on Dane, cutting across the floor, and his eyes landed on her. He changed direction, heading straight for her.

He pushed through the swaying crowd, getting closer. He’d come a long way from the day she’d met him in college, back when he’d worn T-shirts sporting video game references. In that ridiculously expensive suit, he could have graced the glossy pages of a World’s Most Eligible Millionaires article—and he had. I created a monster. A beautiful monster. He walked toward her with an elegance that denoted confidence and style.

He must have noticed she’d been abandoned and wanted to slip over to make sure she wasn’t alone at the start of the new year. She was surprised, but delighted he wasn’t orbiting Noelle. Her hope flickered.

She watched him avoid the grasping hands of other partiers, anticipating the moment he’d say something saucy like, “How ‘bout a kiss, doll.”

He stopped several feet from her and let his gaze drag down her entire body. She wore a silky black dress for the occasion, and her blond hair fell in careful tendrils thanks to an afternoon at the salon. Geraldo’s eye tended to wander, so she’d make an extra effort whenever they’d be in a sea of other women. In all probability, he’d wandered right off with one of the wait staff despite her attention to appearances.

The way Dane raked his eyes over her, she didn’t think she’d been the one at fault for Geraldo’s disappearance.

As Dane continued toward her, she noticed for the first time that he staggered. He had a drink in one hand, and she was willing to bet it wasn’t his first. Or his third. A lazy smile crept across his face, and she’d been about to ask him if he was drunk when he took one last stuttering step toward her and lifted his hand toward her face. But he stumbled forward, and his hand landed on her shoulder, throwing her backward. “Hey, Dane. What’s going on?”

He recovered his balance and stared into her eyes. He said words she hadn’t heard from him in years. “You look fucking beautiful tonight, Val.”

It took her off guard, and she gasped. “Whoa, Dane. Steady.”

He leaned forward, his forehead pressing into hers, eyes closed, just breathing her in. He smelled of bourbon. His fingers twisted in her hair, and his lips stopped inches from hers. Just the memory of it made her ache. He fell so quiet, she wondered if he’d drifted off to sleep.

Then the room exploded around them as everyone screamed, hugged, kissed. Dane and Val stood dead still, pressed against one another, swaying like a couple in the final hours of a dance marathon.

Dane’s eyes opened, and he peered into her soul. She couldn’t resist the temptation to reach up and touch his hand against her cheek. “What are you doing, Dane? Where’s Noelle?”

“Fuck her.” His breath tickled her ear.

Val pushed at his shoulders until she could see his expression. “Why? What happened?”

He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “She doesn't want to have anything to do with me.”

Val glanced around, but everyone was preoccupied with their own revelries. She grinned as she considered the possibilities. “So it’s New Year’s Eve, and we’re both alone.” Her voice came out low and husky.

“Do you want to be?”

She wrapped her hand around Dane’s tie and dragged him closer. “No.”

When his lips met hers, she would have sworn the world dropped to complete silence. He kissed her soft at first, but then her lips parted, and his tongue brushed against hers, deliciously alcohol tinged. His hands found her neck, and he crashed into her with so much passion, she lost her balance and wobbled on her spike heels.

Without calculating the risks, she grabbed Dane’s hand and urged him to follow her to the lobby where he paid for a room.

If he looked unbelievable in his tuxedo, he looked even better out of it. They spent the night whispering in each other’s ears, confessing frustrated desire. She told him she’d always loved him. He told her he always would. They were both lying. And they had it backwards, besides.

The next morning, she found Geraldo’s business card pushed under the hotel room door and made the only rational decision open to her at the moment, sacrificing a relationship with Dane in the short term to save face with Geraldo for the longer game.

That decision had cost her more than either man would ever know.

In ordinary circumstances, she would have coerced Geraldo to step aside and let her have Dane. But she’d already given Geraldo too much power in the boardroom. She knew he’d crush them both if she didn’t cede to him in the bedroom. She’d been cocky enough to think she could appease Geraldo, salvage the company, and earn back Dane’s trust.

If only . . .

If only Geraldo hadn’t been so intent on a takeover, he might have granted her her freedom. She and Dane might have been a power couple—the unlikely union of two best friends who’d built an empire and fallen in love.

It was a fantasy that could never be.

Instead, they chased away boredom playing a game of cat and mouse—and neither one knew which was which.

In hindsight, she’d learned a valuable lesson—she should have cut her losses and picked one winning hand. By trying to play all sides, she’d lost Geraldo’s trust, her company, and Dane’s affections. And she no longer cared about the first.

But even though Geraldo had won that round, she was still playing a longer game, moving her chess pieces deliberately, slowly—not to mention rigging the board. She intended to even the score. If she could ignite Dane’s dormant sense of indignation, they could move to regain control of their company. And once she toppled Geraldo, she’d get Dane back.

If she ever had him.

She sighed. Dane had been drunk that night. Drunker than usual. Had it meant anything? He probably didn’t even remember half of what he’d said.

She did.

She put the business card back into her wallet, wondering if he’d kept any physical souvenirs of the night she’d lost everything.

 

 

Sophie, 

It’s begun. I sat in on the first training session with Val herself. And Dane made an appearance. The two of them got into a discussion of the company that broke the speed of sound. It’s so weird seeing them together. She’s so sweet and above board. But Dane. Let’s just say his reputation does not appear unfounded. He comes and goes as he pleases, broods most of the time, and when he speaks, somehow he makes everything sound sexy—and I don’t mean his voice turns me on (though it is lovely). It’s like he’s talking about sex when he talks about finance. I can’t explain it. You’d have to hear it. And no, I’m not projecting. I heard the other interns mention it, too. I don’t know how Val stood there so calm while he made me blush.

 To be honest, though, he makes me a little nervous. I didn’t expect him to be so . . . I don’t know. Dangerous? Even though that is his name, lol. One of the interns swears he smelled like booze. But he’s undeniably attractive.

 Anyway, I’m not obsessing over Dane. You wanted a report, and I’m giving you one. Day one has ended. I can’t wait until tomorrow.

 Sorry that your summer is so boring. I wish you were here. I haven’t managed to make any friends yet. Even my roommates keep to themselves. I know I’m not here to make friends, but still, it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Yeah, I know. I’m lucky to have been chosen and it’s only for the summer. Still. I miss you.

 Love you,

Selena