Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel (5 page)

When I enter Holt’s reception area the next morning, my high-heel shoes drag against the floor. The receptionists are chattering on phones and the waiting room is bustling with clients waiting for their dream houses to be found. I hold the two coffee cups out in front of me, my mouth salivating for some liquid energy. Ugh. I need to sleep and stop thinking about the smooth man on my mind. Being tired is never a good thing for me. I’m not as strong when I’m sleepy and I need to be on top of my game around Micah.

I pass each door, noticing my co-workers huddled together in groups, murmuring about something and holding small bouquets of flowers in their hands. I tilt my head, catching their conversations, ranging from “Did we make a big sale?” to “Why is Micah so happy?” to “Am I being fired?”

My mind is racing and now I’m hurrying down the hallway to get answers from Liv as to what is going on. When I enter my office, I find a large bouquet of flowers on my desk and a slightly smaller one on Liv’s.

I’m already putting two and two together, that Micah wanted me to accept his flowers so much he bought everyone in the office flowers, as I spot Liv’s wide grin while she tells me, “Girl, you must have the secret something to snag a billionaire.”

“I can’t believe he did this,” I admit, handing her the coffee I got for her.

“Me neither. It’s kinda sweet in a weird dominating way, eh?”

I nod at Liv and then move to my desk, feeling her eyes following me. Sure, he still didn’t hand deliver the flowers to me. Of course, yesterday he told me he would have, but knew better than to do that in front of everyone.

Okay, so he’s won this particular battle,
I admit to myself.

“What did you say to him when he showed up at the restaurant?” Liv asks as I take a seat behind my desk.

Obviously I
had
to text her right after. I place my purse in the bottom drawer and my coffee next to my keyboard. “I told him that singling me out in any way was a bad idea, as it would lead to problems for me in the office.”

Liv laughs. “So he sends flowers to everyone?”

“Apparently.”

“Wow,” Liv breathes. “Just
wow.
”

“No kidding.” I really look at the flowers he gave me, noticing a mix of red roses and white hydrangeas. The flowery scent spirals around me, and I can’t deny the beauty of the flowers, or the sweetness of his gesture.

The girl in me wants to jump up and down in excitement that any guy put this much effort to go on a date with me. Clearly, Micah’s determined to get a
yes
out of me. And he’s damn well making sure I can’t forget about him. My throat dries uncomfortably when I reach for the card and open it, finding Micah’s handwriting.

Allie—

One date.

Don’t make me wait too long.

—Micah

I run my fingers over the writing on the card, acknowledging the butterflies fluttering, and wondering what happens when you make a man like Micah wait
too long.
Part of me loves the attention and realizes he has no intention of giving up. In fact, I’m a bit surprised he hasn’t pulled the
I gave you Richardson. You’ll give me this
card. The other part fears this is a battle that I won’t win. But all the lessons from my mother echo in my mind.

I can’t repeat her mistakes.

I won’t.

“I take it a date is in your near future,” Liv states before sipping her coffee.

I snort, placing the card in the drawer and out of sight. “Oh, yes, because that would be a great idea. Let’s date the very well-known playboy who happens to be my boss. Definitely a CLM, if you ask me.”

“Oh, yes, career limiting move, for sure. I mean, because dating a gorgeous billionaire is every woman’s worst nightmare.” She gives me a well-deserved
You are an idiot
look.

It is crazy!

I should be overjoyed about Micah pursuing me. Most women would be all over this. But Liv doesn’t know the
true
reasons I can’t be with him. She doesn’t know the
real
me and where I came from. She doesn’t know about my mother. She doesn’t know about the money.

“Might I remind you that he is Micah Holt?” I shoot back at her. “The guy’s splattered all over the tabloids with a new woman on his arm every month. Anything between us would be short-lived anyway—he’s not what I want in a guy.”

“Oh, I’m not saying to date him seriously.” Liv shudders a little, twirling from side to side in her swivel chair. “He’s a heartbreaker, for sure. But he’s also pretty, so you could”—she grins and waggles her eyebrows—“enjoy that pretty package for one night.”

“No.” I shake my head, adamantly. “You know I hate one-night stands.” I had one once with an Irish man when I traveled to Ireland. It was the accent, sexily spoken to me while I was intoxicated, and my panties disappeared. That experience was enough—been there, done that.

“What I know is,” Liv drawls, her foot clad in a black high-heel shoe bouncing in time with the music coming from the radio, “you need to remove your halo and get some horns on that pretty little head of yours.” My lips part, and she waves me off. “I know. I know. A one-night stand is against your angelic morals.”

Liv loves her bad boys, including her one-night stands. She’ll never understand this about me. “There’s nothing wrong with having morals.”

“In the nineteen hundreds,” she counters with a level look. “You live in the twenty-first century. It’s okay to want sex and
a lot
of it.” Her eyes dance as she sips her coffee again. “But since you’re clearly in a state of denial, where you somehow think you can refuse the powerful and damn hot Micah Holt, tell me more about what happened with the Lowes yesterday?”

I sigh, grateful for the subject change. “I got their wish list,” I report, “Last night I stalked the MLS and found four possibilities that I’m planning on showing Jenny in an”—I glance at the time on my monitor—“hour and a half.”

“Perfect.” Liv smiles, placing her coffee cup down beside the stack of papers on her desk. “That gives me enough time to fill you in on all things Holt.”

I settle into my seat and reach for my coffee. “Okay, hit me with it.”

“Our go-to guy about new clients is James,” Liv explains.

“What department is he in?” I take a sip of my coffee, catching a whiff of the vanilla syrup before the warmth slides down my throat.

“They call the department
Real Estate.
” Liv riffles through the papers on her desk. “James is one of the team leads who works under the Director of Real Estate, who reports to the Vice President of Real Estate.” She looks up from the papers and gives me a tight smile. “We’ve been placed into James’s division, so he’s our guy.”

I shake my head, trying to get my bearings. “This company is huge.”

“Yup, it’s massive.” By the strain between her brows she’s struggling to wrap her head around all of the different departments now. Because she knows I rely on her for that stuff. “Get this, though. James sent me the background info for the Lowes.”

“Background info?”

Liv nods, grabbing a folder out from the papers and bringing it to me. “It’s like Mission Impossible around here.” She hands me the file, and as I open it, she returns to her desk, adding, “Everything, and I mean
everything,
about the clients is in that file. Like, what their previous houses look like, what charities they’re involved in, their income bracket, things like that.”

I snort a laugh, reading that my new clients have two Labrador retrievers and no children. “Jeez, it’s like an invasion of privacy. Whatever happened to, I don’t know, meeting with clients and talking to them?”

“Old times, girl. Old times.” Liv sighs, scanning over the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ve never seen anything like this place. Let me just tell you, I’m damn happy that I got a raise.”

“Because you deserve it?” I offer.

“Well, yes, of course I do.” She gives a sly smile. “That said, the number of people I’ve had to meet and figure out what in the hell they do around here is worth that money alone.” She takes a deep breath, moving her shoulders and lifting her chin. “Okay, and last but not least, if you need a breather”—I often do when dealing with difficult clients, as Liv is well aware—“I learned from another assistant I met in the break room that Holt has one helluva rooftop patio for all employees to enjoy, not just the big shots on the sixty-first floor.”

“Nice,” I say.

She nods. “Now, Ms. I-Am-So-Hot-the-Billionaire-Boss-Wants-to-Shag-Me, you have a meeting with James and the other agents in his division in five minutes to discuss stuff I don’t care about. Better get moving to
Hogwarts
—it’s the third door after the reception desk.”

“Hogwarts?”
I repeat, rising from my desk.

“Ah, yes,” Liv says. “The folks around here got bored with the regular meeting room names so they proposed to the higher-ups that they rename them with locations from
Harry Potter.
I guess Micah agreed.”

Micah has a fun, non-serious side?

Now,
that’s
unexpected.

Okay, maybe I’m not opposed to finding out there’s more to him than money and power. “That’s surprising, but cool.” I step around my desk with coffee in hand.

“Yup. Very cool of him.” Liv glances down at the papers on her desk, hastily ignoring me as she does when working. “Now get moving or you’ll be late.”

“I’m already gone,” I call, exiting our office.

Being sweet
and
having a fun side
are things I didn’t expect from Micah, but just because he erased two check marks on my
do-not-date-Micah
list, it’s still a very detailed one. There’s no way he can possibly erase all my bullet points.

He can’t be
that
good.

He is Micah Holt after all.

My mind is straying from work, centering solely on the woman who’s spellbound me. One floor below, Allie is likely staring at the flowers I sent her, and it’s taking all of my willpower not to go down there to find out if she likes my gesture. Most women I can read like an open book, because they are all the same. Allie, though, she’s a whole different breed of woman.

“Micah, are you with us?”

I blink back to consciousness, reminding myself that I’m sitting at a rectangular steel conference room table in the
Ministry of Magic
—which is located right next to my office—completely surrounded by glass walls. I still haven’t gotten used to the new names for the meeting rooms, but even if I’ve never seen the Harry Potter movies, happy employees equal excellent workers.

“Yes, I’m with you,” I tell Anderson, clasping my hands atop the table. “Run the conversation by me again.”

Anderson gives me a puzzled look before tapping his fingers against the papers in front of him. “We were talking about this new direction for Richardson.”

“Ah,
that,
” I mutter, steeling myself for the conversation ahead.

Holt’s V.P. of Real Estate, Isabella, says, “Yes,
that.
Do enlighten us why you made this decision.”

I spot the side of Anderson’s mouth lifting in amusement before I address Isabella, who, by her scowl, isn’t as amused. “It’s a personal matter to me.”

“I understand that, Micah,” Holt’s CFO, Travis, states as he sits straight as an arrow next to Anderson. “But we should be reconsidering this. Have you looked at their reports?” He thrusts a hand through his copper-colored, stylish hair, causing his suit to stretch against his bulk. “This made sense as an acquisition to remove one of our competitors. It makes no sense to keep Richardson as is.”

I lean back in my swivel chair, lacing my hands behind my head. I can’t disagree. It
is
a terrible decision. We had paid a higher price for Richardson because we weren’t the only interested buyers. But this time—this
one
time—I’m okay with making a bad financial decision.

“I agree with Travis,” Isabella adds; her stern, light green eyes intent on mine. “It doesn’t make sense. We’d be throwing money away before we ever saw a return. Not only do we need to relocate the business, but we’ve taken all of their bestselling agents and brought them into Holt.”

Anderson glances my way and frowns. “They’re right.”

I sigh, turning in my chair, glancing out at the skyline, and seeing the sun high in the afternoon sky.

On one hand, I can’t argue with anything being said. Holt isn’t only
my
company; it’s my team’s company, too. It’s been born from their sweat and blood, as much as it has from mine.

On the other hand, the way Allie looked at me when she worried for her co-workers flashes through my mind and still stops me in my tracks. I can’t turn back. I made her a promise. I won’t break it.

I draw in a long breath before facing them again. “Right now, I’m not changing my mind on this decision.”

Isabella shakes her head in frustration, not about to back down. “We acquired Richardson for its clientele and to stake our claim in the residential market.”

A frown begins pulling on my lips. While I don’t like being questioned, she’s not wrong—Holt deals mostly with mergers and acquisitions regarding commercial properties, but Holt’s residential real estate department is what we hoped to grow this year, selling not only high-income homes, but dabbling more into the middle-income market to dominate the entire industry.

Isabella continues, “We don’t have the resources or staff to ensure we bring Richardson up to speed to be successful on its own. We never planned for that.”

I glance at Anderson and he shrugs, telling me he feels the same as the others. I respect my team standing firm in their opinions. It’s why I work alongside them, and I have changed the game on them now.

Where does this leave me?

Right now all I know is Richardson is too small, too run-down, and is lacking good real estate agents, since we took them all to grow Holt. “Let’s bring in Darius Bennett on this and see if his team can give some insight.” Darius’s billion-dollar company, Bennett, Inc., provides financial and budgeting services to large corporations, as well as advice on organization and management issues, and can improve any company. I have gone to Darius a few times in the past when a company I bought needed a face-lift. His people could find flaws that others missed. “I’d like to see the entire picture of what we’re looking at here.” I turn to Isabella. “Get our team working on finding any properties that Richardson can possibly move into.”

Anderson adds, “And make sure the location is somehow tied to real estate, too. If we end up doing this, we need to make sure we’re giving Richardson the best shot out of the gate.”

Isabella begrudgingly nods. “I suppose that’s a good place to start.”

Travis grimaces. “I’ll take another look at their financials and see if I can be of any help there, too.”

“Excellent,” I say, glad the team is on board. “Let’s meet again after I talk with Darius and see where everything sits before we make any final decisions.”

I get some disgruntled agreements as the room clears, and I reach for the conference room’s phone and press the intercom button. The loud beep cuts through the air as I spin in my chair, staring out at the skyline again.

“Yes?” Neil’s cheery voice fills the room.

“Contact Darius Bennett and set up a meeting as soon as possible.”

When the intercom turns off, a loud clearing of a throat has me glancing over my shoulder.

Anderson’s scowling at me. “You better know what you’re doing.”

He wouldn’t be Anderson if he didn’t call me out on this. He’s not my COO by chance. Anderson has worked with me at Holt from day one, because he didn’t feed me bullshit back then and he won’t now.

I nod, it being the only answer I’m prepared to offer.

Truth be told, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. For the first time, I’m charging forward without a plan.

“The look on your face right now isn’t convincing,” Anderson comments, shutting the door, with him inside. “If you ask me, it seems that all you know is what you want, and
she
is a floor beneath us.”

“Keep Allie out of this conversation,” I give him a gently warning.

“She’s in it,” he fires back at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me you’re thinking straight about this. Your personal decision affects Holt. Richardson is not pocket change. We put in millions of dollars to buy the company, for the sole purpose of dismantling it. And you better be damn sure this woman is worth the risk.”

I keep my mouth shut, not feeling the need to defend myself.

Anderson curses, shaking his head. “You made a bad decision. Your team is watching you make that bad decision. Trust is made and kept by not making bad decisions.” He presses both hands against the back of the chair in front of him, knuckles white. “So, tell me that you’re not making a bad decision.”

Before I can reply, Neil’s voice breaks through the thick tension in the air. “I’m afraid that Mr. Bennett is away on business right now, but he can meet you at Holt on Saturday morning after he returns from traveling. Shall I confirm?”

“Please do,” I reply.

Anderson waits until the intercom beeps, ending Neil’s access to our conversation, before he addresses me again, “I’ll back you a hundred percent on this, but give me your word that if at any time the decision becomes detrimental to Holt, you’ll break the promise you made to Allie.”

The thought makes my skin crawl. But I owe Anderson this promise for his loyalty to Holt and to me. I want to save Richardson for all the reasons Allie wanted me to, but not at the expense of my relationship with Anderson. “You have my word.”