Bad Influence, page 17
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Preston.” The reporter nodded to the cameraman and he shut off the camera. “It was a pleasure. I’m always happy to see some fresh blood in this industry.”
“Likewise. Banking is a small community at this level, so my appointment has certainly made a few waves.” He rose up from the chair and secured the suit-jacket button at his waist. “Hopefully that fresh blood doesn’t attract any sharks.”
The reporter chuckled. “Like your father? Well, you’ve got him on your side, which is definitely an advantage.”
You’d think that.
“Or does he think you should have done your time in the ranks like he did?” she asked. There was that sweet smile and the adjusting of her glasses again.
I’m not falling for it.
“I doubt any father would want to impede their child’s career ambitions,” he said, turning his wrist up to show the face of his Omega watch, hoping it would give her the hint that the interview was over. “Mine included.”
“You could have a career in politics with an answer like that.” This time her expression looked a little more cunning. She’d dropped the act now that the cameras were off.
“You never know, one day you might see my name at a polling booth. For now, I’m focused on this job.”
“So no plans for a family. No girlfriend begging you for kids?” She leaned against the sleek boardroom-style table in the conference room they kept specially for media purposes.
The decor was a soft white, and the space was decorated with muted, unobtrusive pieces of art—a painting with mixed shades of gray and pale blue, a geometric vase holding a generic-looking plant. Everything was styled to look clean and fresh, modern yet conservative, which was the bank’s attempt at a new image. The previous CIO had been an old-school eighties banker with a predilection for Rolls Royce town cars and gaudy diamond-studded Rolexes. A throwback from the gluttonous, pre-financial-crisis era.
Joseph was the pendulum swinging the other way. “I’ve got plenty to keep me busy at work. There’ll be time for a family later.”
“That doesn’t answer my question about the girlfriend.”
Was she coming on to him or simply looking for a story? Either way, he wasn’t interested.
Why not? You’re a single man.
Technically, yeah. He and Annie hadn’t made any promises, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Their relationship was over. But sleeping with Annie and then accepting a date from someone else was a hundred shades of wrong. Their situation was simply…
A problem that needed solving. He was giving her a hand because they’d once cared about each other. The sex was the two of them blowing off steam. It didn’t mean anything…did it?
You know it means something. Stop lying to yourself.
The realization washed through him, bringing little relief to the knot in his stomach. Sex with Annie would never be casual; it would never be meaningless. No matter how hard he tried to separate physical desire and emotion, it wasn’t possible with her. Because the reason he’d always been attracted to her was because of who she was, not simply how she looked.
There was no getting around it. Having sex with her had meant something to him, and it would continue to mean something to him.
“Can I say it’s complicated?” he said.
“A Facebook answer. You are a man of the times.” The reporter stuck her hand out, and he accepted it. “If things happen to get less complicated, you’ve got my number.”
He shot Dave a look the second his back was to the reporter, who’d started talking to her team. Dave stifled a smirk, and they headed through the building’s conference room and into the elevator that would take them back up to the executive floor.
“That went well,” Dave said, scrolling through his tablet. “I haven’t seen many interviews capped off with a come-on.”
“Me either.”
“You weren’t in the least bit tempted?”
Joseph yanked at the tie at his neck, loosening the colored silk and popping the button on his collar. “I’m at work.”
“Ah, so you’re simply a man of principles.” Dave nodded. “That’s a good thing.”
On some level, Joseph felt like he should have been interested. The reporter was attractive—with shiny, dark hair and sharp eyes—not to mention she knew her stuff. Capable women had always excited him. He’d worked with a lot of men who wanted trophy wives of the “look hot, stay quiet” variety. But that wasn’t his style. He wanted a woman who had a spark to her, a fire. He liked people who could hold their own in a conversation, who enjoyed digging into a debate. He wanted an equal, someone who would challenge him and match him. Who wouldn’t fade quietly into the background.
You realize you’ve just described Annie, right?
He shoved the annoying thought away. He’d likely also described the reporter, so it didn’t mean anything. Besides, he had more pressing concerns than shifting through that mental minefield.
“That was the last meeting for the day, right?” Joseph’s brain was so fried he could barely remember his own name.
Despite having had some of the best sex of his life, he’d barely slept. He kept reaching out in the twilight of almost-sleep, fingers groping for soft skin and silky hair, and finding nothing. It’d jolted him awake every single time. It was like his body had slipped into the past where Annie was by his side. They’d liked to sleep wrapped in each other, and he’d never felt right unless her head was tucked under his chin, the scent of her shampoo filling his nose.
“No, you’ve got one more.” Dave tapped at his tablet. “Melinda Landry.”
“You didn’t tell me I had a meeting booked with my mother.”
“Shit.” Dave cringed. “It didn’t register because the surname is different. I’m sorry, I would have brought it to your attention if I’d known. She didn’t mention anything when she called…”
“Welcome to my fucked-up family,” Joseph said drily as the elevators slid open and they headed to his office. “Where we book meetings via each other’s assistants instead of calling one another directly.”
“Melinda Landry as in Landry Cosmetics, right?” Dave asked.
“One and the same.”
“It slipped my mind that you two were related. That’s quite a pedigree.”
Joseph let out a sardonic laugh. “Yes, it is.”
The Prestons had been described as “having more money than God.” Aside from his father’s lucrative banking career, the Preston side of the family was no stranger to wealth. His great-grandfather had started a publishing company in New York that had been acquired for an eye-watering sum before Joseph’s time.
His mother’s side of the family owned one of the world’s largest high-end cosmetics companies. Landry Cosmetics was a beast, aggressively acquiring smaller companies and using their clout to dominate a greedy global market. His mother had been CEO for two decades now and was grooming her niece to take over. They had a strict policy about keeping the company family-run, specifically by women. Since Joseph had three female cousins on that side of the family, he didn’t have much to do with the business.
He and Dave rounded the corner to Joseph’s office and found his mother waiting. Never one to blend into the background, she wore one of her signature pink suits—today it was a vibrant rose shade—with a black blouse and a necklace made of twisted strands of glimmering beads in pink and yellow.
“Mrs. Landry, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Dave stuck out his hand, looking a little star-struck. “I’m a huge fan of your products. I wore Landry Homme on my wedding day.”
Melinda smiled warmly and accepted his hand. “Well, you look to be a man of style, so I’m not at all surprised you wear Homme.”
“Mother.” Joseph nodded to his office. “Shall we?”
Melinda bid Dave goodbye and followed her son into the office. “I’ll arrange to have a bottle delivered for him tomorrow,” she said, shutting the door behind her. “We’re about to launch the silver anniversary edition, and there are a ton floating around the office.”
“I’m sure he would appreciate that.” Joseph pulled off his tie and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket. The second this “meeting” was over, he was getting the hell out of Dodge. “What’s this meeting in aid of? Haven’t you got important CEO business to attend to?”
Melinda took a seat on the other side of his desk, smoothing her hands demurely over her pencil skirt. At fifty-five, she’d mastered the art of being both formidable and approachable at the same time. She was highly respected for her business savvy and her head for numbers, and yet she didn’t seem to suffer the fate many other powerful women did. That was, Melinda was not generally despised for her strength by men or women.
Over the years, Joseph had learned more about success in business from his mother than his father, though everyone assumed his father had been the one to groom him. Ingrained sexism was a bitch like that.
“I might be a CEO, Joe, but I’m a mother as well. Which means I tend to family business when it is required.”
That was Melinda-speak for Your dad told me everything. He rolled his eyes. “What did he say?”
Her cool silvery gaze remained steadily on his. “That you had a guest when he came to visit.”
“A guest.” He shook his head. “Annie was staying with me. You don’t have to skirt the issue like it’s a taboo subject.”
“Okay, let’s cut to the chase then. Are you back together?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” He turned to face the view from his office. Winter was fast approaching, and not only were the days rapidly cooling, but they were shortening too. It was barely five, and the sun had started to sink against the horizon.
“She just happened to be staying at your apartment while you weren’t there?”
“What’s the point of this conversation?” Joseph turned and folded his arms across his chest. “If you think you need to reiterate everything you said three years ago, you don’t. I know your views on her, and I don’t want to hear them again.”
His mother sighed. “I’m not here to upset you.”
“Just a by-product, is it?” He looked up to the ceiling and prayed for strength. “I can only imagine what Dad said to her before I arrived.”
“We’re trying to protect you,” she argued.
“No, you’re trying to protect your money. Let’s not kid ourselves about that.” He all but spat out the words. “It’s always about the money. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that she doesn’t give a shit about it. She doesn’t want to steal my inheritance.”
His mother pursed her lips. “She certainly didn’t hesitate to take the apartment from you. An apartment that you bought with your inheritance, I might add.”
“One, I offered her the apartment. Two, it was our home. That’s why she was happy to stay.” His parents had been livid to find out about the arrangement he’d made without consulting them. In Joseph’s mind, it was easier not to fight. Besides, Annie had needed it more than he did. The decision had been an easy one. “In any case, it was in my name. Therefore, I owned it and could do with it as I pleased.”
“Despite what you think, it’s not about the money.” His mother twisted a large ring with a winking yellow stone around her finger. “You’re my son, and I care about you. So I don’t want to see you getting hurt again. You deserve to be with someone who wants to be part of this family, someone who fits in with your lifestyle. Our life involves a lot of scrutiny and obligation, and that’s not for everyone.”
He wanted to rebut every point. Annie had never been given a chance to fit in with his family and the “lifestyle” that involved a lot of snooty charity events and snapping cameras. From day one, his father had ostracized her, labeling her a gold digger and doing his best to make sure she knew she didn’t belong. His mother hadn’t treated her so badly, but she’d never spoken out against her husband’s behavior.
That’s why he’d broken when he’d overheard Annie telling her family that she wouldn’t move to Singapore with him. Because he’d always stood up for her. Always tried to show her that she was special. But years being stuck in the middle had worn him down, all the jabs—from both sides—chipping away at his patience and resolve.
And that’s exactly why he wasn’t going to engage in this discussion now.
“I’m not with her, Mom.” He purposefully kept the ice out of his voice. “We had some stuff to sift through, and she stayed at my place. In the spare room.”
It wasn’t technically a lie, even though he was letting his mother believe nothing had happened between them. “Regardless, I wasn’t about to let Dad throw his weight around and demand that I kick her out because he’d decided to show up unannounced.”
She nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Don’t bother. It won’t change anything.”
Melinda rose and came around Joseph’s desk, enveloping him in a hug. She smelled of violets and roses—her signature scent. Her grandmother had created the perfume Lindy in her name when she was only a little girl, and she’d never worn another perfume since. The scent always smacked him with memories, of her loving embrace as she kissed him good night hours after he’d gone to bed. His mother had never been home for dinners, always working hard on her business and missing the things that other mothers didn’t. But he’d never once begrudged it because she’d told him over and over, “Never let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. Never let someone else’s limitations define you.”
But the fact that she constantly backed his father, no matter how much it hurt her son, was still a barrier between them.
“We do want the best for you,” she said as her slender arms squeezed him tight. “You’re at such a pivotal point in your career, and I don’t want to see her derail you.”
He bit back his reply. There was no point. His mother would always think she was doing the right thing, and he would always disagree. At least where Annie was concerned. And none of it mattered. Because they weren’t an item. They weren’t getting back together.
For some reason, the finality of that thought hit him like a punch to the chest.
You’d better get over that feeling right now. Sex doesn’t change anything.
Chapter 13
“In times like these, we need the truth more than ever. Thank you for giving us a platform.”
—AlwaysTheBridesmaid
Annie was about to leave her position on the faux-leather couch in the reception area of her apartment building when Joseph finally strode through the front doors. He was still in his suit—black today—with a long, gray coat over the top and a red scarf around his neck. The sight took her breath away. There was nothing sexier than a man who knew the value of a good tailor.
With each long-legged stride, her body wound tighter and tighter. His slightly overlong hair looked as though it had been styled, but now it was mussed—either from the brisk wind or his fingers.
“About time,” she said, aiming for a joking tone but missing.
“Sorry, I got ambushed.” He pulled the scarf from his neck, and Annie’s eyes tracked the smooth wool sliding against his skin.
“CEO?”
“A CEO, not my CEO.” His mouth quirked.
“Ah, Mother Dearest dropped by the office, did she?” They headed to the elevator bay.
“Yeah. She made an appointment with my assistant and didn’t bother to clarify our relationship.” They squeezed into the crowded elevator, and the back of Annie’s hand brushed against him. She quickly tucked her hands closer to her body. “Ten guesses what it was about.”
“Only need one,” Annie quipped. She could only imagine what Melinda Landry would have said about her. On behalf of her brutish husband, no doubt.
It was probably a good thing they’d never gotten married. Melinda and Morris were the stuff of in-law nightmares.
Yeah, keep telling yourself you’re happy it all fell apart.
Against her better judgment, Annie asked, “What did she say?”
“Nothing of note.” Joseph moved to the side to let another passenger out.
Within a few floors, they were alone again, and Annie positioned herself on the other side of the elevator. The scent of his cologne was doing funny things to her insides, and that one accidental brush of her knuckles against his leg had been enough to ignite memories of last night. Her body was hungry like she hadn’t been screwed six ways from Sunday. She was a starving woman reintroduced to food, and now she wanted to gorge herself.
“Nothing of note, huh? Isn’t that Preston code for I’m too embarrassed to repeat it?”
“Something like that. You’re still fluent?”
A smile tugged at her mouth. They used to joke that his family had its own language, that speaking with his parents required an ability to read between the lines usually reserved for interrogators and FBI agents.
“My Preston is a little rusty,” she said. “How do you say ‘fuck off’ again?”
“‘There’s nothing more to say.’” He shot her a crooked grin, and damn if it didn’t nearly melt her. “Or you could also use ‘This is a conversation for another day.’”
“Oh yes, I’d forgotten that one.” The elevator dinged, and he held the door for her. “So are you going to tell me what she said?”
Gah! Why did she even want to know? Clearly it wasn’t anything good. Why would it be? His parents had never said anything positive about her or her family.
“Dad told her you were at my apartment. She came to talk to me about it.” Typical Joseph, shutting her out when she had questions. “That’s it.”
“And what did you say?”
“That it’s none of their business.”
They reached her front door. Annie fiddled around in her bag for her keys, her fingers shaking. Was it because she was frightened of what they might find in her apartment? Or was it resentment over the crap that his parents had likely been spinning?
