Trouble Walks In (9 page)

“Then why put on the brakes, McGuire? Things were just getting good.” She curled her hands around his tie and pulled him against her. “How about we continue this in my apartment? Don't be scared. Making out doesn't mean we're going steady or something. We aren't kids anymore. It can just be sex. No strings.”

Before the words had escaped her lips, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Ronan arched one eyebrow and stepped back, holding the doors open with one arm but keeping the other securely around her waist.

“Because you and I aren't just gonna hook up.” He kissed her quickly and released her from his grasp. “I want more from you, Mads. And I promise you something—it will never be
just sex
with us. My gut tells me that if you and I go to bed tonight, then you're going to cross me off your list.”

“My list?” Maddy slipped her hands in the pockets as she moved to the open doorway. She narrowed her gaze and studied him curiously. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Ronan leaned close and lowered his voice. “That neat little list you keep, the one that you've been following ever since Rick died. The one that prevents you from really
living
your life. You put everyone and everything in an appropriate place. Like your apartment, for example. Neat, orderly, and in total control. It's funny because that's nothing like the girl I remember. If we take this any further tonight, I think you're gonna write me off and consider us finished. But we're only getting started.”

“Is that so?” she asked haughtily. “Well, maybe that's because I'm not a girl anymore. We aren't children, Ronan. Jeez. Where
exactly
do you think your place with me is, McGuire? Because it obviously isn't in my bed.”

“I didn't say that.” Ronan brushed a stray curl from her forehead, and she batted his hand away with a scoffing sound. He couldn't suppress the grin that curved his lips. “In fact, I'm the
only man
who belongs in your bed from now on.”

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but before she could utter a sound, he grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her deeply. She stiffened at first, but a second later she opened to him, returning his affections with equal fervor. He pressed her against the other side of the elevator door and devoured her, branding her with every stroke of his tongue.

She was his. There was no doubt about that. Not anymore.

The alarm blared again as the doors protested. Ronan broke the kiss but kept her cheeks cradled in his hands, his mouth an inch from hers and both of them breathless.

“You've kept me in the friend zone, and now you want to put me in the friends-with-benefits category,” he rasped. “I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm
not
that guy when it comes to you. I want more than one date with you, Mads, and I want a helluva lot more than a quick hot-and-heavy hookup in an elevator.”

The alarm rang loudly again. This was a risky move. She could get pissed off and tell him to go screw himself. A few more agonizing seconds ticked by, and for a moment, Ronan thought he'd made a colossal mistake.

“Well,” she murmured, “you sure do know how to show a girl a good time…if a confusing one.”

“Like I said”—Ronan kissed the tip of her nose and released her from his embrace—“I enjoy surprising you. And if you think Thanksgiving has been fun, just wait until Christmas.”

The doors buzzed again and tried to close, but he continued to hold them open, wanting to squeeze out every last second with her that he possibly could.

“What? You want to take me out for Christmas too?”

“Maybe.” He winked. “I want to try your apple pie.”

The emergency phone in the elevator rang, and a smile bloomed on Maddy's lips.

“Looks like you have a call.” She slipped past Ronan and went to the door of her apartment, opening it quickly.

Ronan ignored the phone as Maddy tossed a glance at him over her shoulder, her wicked gaze flicking to the erection he was doing nothing to hide.

“Just remember,” she purred, “turnabout is fair play. I might have a surprise or two in store for you.”

“Are you kidding?” Ronan dropped his hand, and the elevator doors began to close. “I'm counting on it.”

The doors slammed shut with a muffled thud, and all he could think about was the revenge she could be planning. He'd never looked forward to anything more in his life. “Game on.”

The past three weeks had gone by in a blink, barely leaving Maddy time to breathe, let alone explore any more dalliances with Ronan—even though that was almost all she could think about.

The holidays were usually slow in the real estate market, but not this year. Suddenly, the holidays were prime time for showing million-dollar apartments. She had been going nonstop since the Monday after Thanksgiving, and the rush didn't look like it was going to let up any time soon.

The inherently high-energy nature of their industry had become even more intense lately, every meeting laced with tension and a hint of fear. Lucille's and Brenda's deaths were on everyone's minds, but oddly enough, nobody spoke about them openly. Oh, their deaths were whispered about by the watercooler but not freely discussed. It was almost as if the danger wasn't real if nobody talked about it. Nothing else had happened since Brenda, thankfully, though that meant most people were beginning to believe the two crimes weren't connected.

And on top of all that, Maddy had to contend with demanding Mr. Gregory. The man had seen virtually every available apartment on the island of Manhattan, some of them twice, but none were acceptable. She loved a challenge, but this guy was seriously on her last nerve.

Maddy leaned against the elevator wall and stared at the changing numbers along the top as they crept slowly toward the floor for her office. She only had to hang in there for two more days, and then she was off to Old Brookfield for Jordan and Gavin's wedding. She flicked her gaze to the red emergency button, and her face heated.

The memory of that stolen moment with Ronan had kept her going through the past couple of weeks. A few times since, they had made plans to get together, but either his job or hers kept intruding. Their busy schedules and her sore ankle had even kept them from their Saturday morning runs. They had texted, mind you, and each of his texts had been flirtier than the one before.

She nibbled her lower lip but couldn't squelch the smile that emerged. She had been confused at first when he put the brakes on their dalliance, but once he confessed why…that had turned her on more than ever. But it scared her too. Maybe that's why her attraction to Ronan was so intense. She was exhilarated and frightened by the possibilities at the same time.

He wanted more than a quick hookup, but what if she wasn't prepared to give him that? What if she wasn't even capable of more? The night of the episode in the elevator, she'd lain awake alone in bed and started to freak out about how they would handle things once they got back home. Talking herself off the ledge had been easier then, knowing they had three whole weeks to sort things out. But now that time had evaporated.

So much for that stupid plan.

While Maddy was excited about the wedding, she would be lying if she didn't admit that she was mostly looking forward to seeing Ronan again. Of course, that also meant going home for the first time since Rick had died. Ugh. Her stomach twisted in a knot as guilt swelled, immediately squashing her excitement. She was a conflicted mess. One minute she couldn't wait to see Ronan, and the next she was listing all the reasons why she should stay away from him. Keep him in the friend zone:

1. Getting involved with him was too intense and fraught with complications.

2. It was too soon after losing Rick.

3. His job was too dangerous.

4. Her heart couldn't take another beating.

But still…

The elevator doors slid open, and Maddy trudged forward along the carpeted hall toward her office suite. She pushed the door open and was met with the familiar sounds of the staff members at work. The four assistants were clacking away on their computers, and the office doors of the agents were all closed, except for Drummond's. Maddy rolled her eyes. He always kept his open, and she was convinced it was so he could ogle any attractive women who might be in the vicinity.

She hoped to slip by without having to deal with him.

“You look like shit.”

No such freaking luck.

“When was the last time you got any sleep?” Coffee mug in hand, Chris Drummond leaned in the doorway to his office. “Been keeping late hours?”

Maddy puffed the hair from her eyes and adjusted her massive shoulder bag before shooting him a strained smile and continuing toward her corner office. Unfortunately, he followed her. He wasn't wrong, and that was more annoying than anything else. She
hadn't
been sleeping well, and how many of those sleepless nights she lay awake thinking about Ronan, the wedding, and the trip she couldn't avoid?

The answer: Most of them.

“I hope that's not how you greet your clients, Chris.” Maddy smiled at her assistant. “Sharon, can you come into my office in about fifteen minutes? I want to go over the plan for while I'm away. Bring me everything on the New Year's Eve party RSVPs as well, and make sure the caterer has been read in on everything. Okay? I may stay in Old Brookfield a few days longer than I originally planned, so the timeline will be a bit tight.”

“Sure thing, Maddy.” Sharon's smile faltered when she looked past Maddy. Her shy gaze flicked back to the papers on her desk. “Good morning, Mr. Drummond.”

“Hey, babe.” Chris sat on the edge of Sharon's desk. “You're looking lovely this morning.”

Maddy stopped short in her office doorway and turned slowly to face the increasingly offensive broker.

“Her name is Sharon,” Maddy said overly politely. “It's right there on her desk. See the nifty nameplate? It's Sharon. Not ‘babe' or ‘honey' or ‘sweetie.' Got it?”

“Whoa.” Drummond held up one hand as if in surrender before sipping his coffee. He wore his usual slick-looking gray suit and was perfectly manicured, but none of that hid his glaring sense of inadequacy. “Sorry,
Ms. Morgan
. I was only being friendly. Speaking of which, I'll RSVP to your big New Year's Eve bash now. You can put me down for one,
Sharon
.”

“Really?” Maddy's eyebrows flew up in mock surprise. “I'm shocked you don't have a date. A man like you must be beating them off with a stick.”

“I
could
bring a date,” Chris said, rising to his feet from the edge of the desk. “I choose not to. It is a business gathering, is it not?”

“It is,” Maddy said smoothly. “But it's also a party. Brenton, Susan, and Maureen are bringing their spouses. I extended the same courtesy to the unmarried staff, but feel free to fly solo. I've invited all of our clients, including the brand-new ones, so there will be plenty of people to mingle with.”

“What about our fearless leader?” he asked, referring to the owner of Cosmopolitan Realty. “Will Terrence and his wife be there?”

“No. They'll be in Milan. Remember? They go to Italy every Christmas to see her family.”

Maddy went to close the door to her office, but Drummond pressed his hand against it and held it open. Now he was really starting to piss her off. The man who had been mildly irritating was turning into a full-fledged creep.

“What about you?” He sipped his coffee again and peered at her over the rim. “Will you be bringing a date? If not, we could be each other's dates. Unless you're seeing someone.”

She almost laughed out loud at the ludicrous nature of his suggestion. Ronan had said almost the same thing about the wedding, but her reaction to him had been far different. Then again, Drummond and McGuire couldn't have been more opposite if they tried.

“I'm not interested.” Maddy rolled her eyes, let go of the door, and headed back toward her desk. “Besides, you are well aware that there is a standard no-fraternization policy firmly in place within the company. Like most places of business. We've had this conversation before. I'm unclear why it needs to be repeated.” She hung her coat in the closet on the far wall and shut the door with more force than she'd intended. “Secondly, who I date, if I date, and when I date is not, and never will be, any of your business.”

“No need to get defensive.” He sighed. Drummond strolled to the chair in front of her desk and sat down. “I just thought we could present a united front. You know, for the office.”

“Right,” Maddy said under her breath. “The answer is still no.”

“How about another night then?”

She stood behind her desk, grateful for the distance, as she pressed her fingertips to the surface and returned his stare. It irked her to no end that she was having this conversation with him. Again.

“You aren't getting it, are you? We are colleagues, Chris. That's all. Since you don't seem to know when to quit, I'll repeat that the no-fraternization policy applies to
everyone
in the office. A fact you seem to forget. Repeatedly.”

“Funny.” Drummond stood up and leered at Maddy. “I didn't peg you for an uptight ice queen. Do you even like guys?”

Maddy was about to share some choice words with him when her assistant knocked on the open door.

“I'm sorry to interrupt.” Sharon slipped past Drummond and handed Maddy a file folder. “Here are your updated client contracts.”

“Thank you, Sharon.” Maddy flipped it open and quickly perused the running list and immediately noted one name missing. “The Bartholomews aren't on here.”

“I'm sorry, Maddy.” Sharon shot a wary glance at Drummond. “I didn't—”

“They're working with me,” Drummond said smugly. “The newlyweds? They came by yesterday, and you weren't here. I was. End of story.”

Maddy was seething. She slammed the folder onto her desk. “You knew damn well they were working with me.”

“You snooze, you lose.”

“Are you for real? That is not how we do business here. Our way of operating doesn't involve stealing another agent's clients. You unethical son of a bitch.”

“Screw ethics,” Drummond scoffed. “This is business, and you're a sore loser.”

“Drummond!” The sharp baritone of Terrence Sterling cut into the room.

The stunned expression on Drummond's face as he paled almost made Maddy laugh aloud. Chris turned around slowly, the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, and faced their boss. Looking furious, Terrence stood in the doorway of Maddy's office glaring at Chris.

“Madolyn is correct. We have a code of ethics here at Cosmopolitan Realty—one that you seem unable to adhere to.”

“Terrence, this is a misunderstanding,” Drummond said with a shaky laugh. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a pleading look in his eyes. “Right, Maddy?”

“No.” Maddy simply shook her head. “There's no misunderstanding. Terrence heard everything correctly.”

“Drummond,” Terrence barked. “In my office. Now.”

“Don't bother.” Drummond kept his stony stare locked with hers. “I quit, and I'll be taking my clients with me.”

He stormed out of the office past Terrence, practically knocking over the distinguished older man.

“Check your contract, Mr. Drummond, and those of Cosmopolitan's clients,” Maddy said calmly.

She moved slowly toward her boss and kept her eyes on Drummond. Chris stopped dead in his tracks but didn't turn around.

“When the Bartholomews signed those documents, they were committing to work with this company,
not
solely with you. The same goes for all of the clients you acquired here. And if you have a close look at
your
contract, you'll see a clear non-compete clause. Cosmopolitan Realty House clients are off-limits to you for at least the next twelve months. With Terrence's permission, I'll personally contact each of them and let them know who will be handling their files moving forward.”

“Thank you, Madolyn,” Terrence said quietly. “It's easy to see how you've advanced in my company so quickly.”

“You bitch,” Drummond said, seething. He spun around as his normally calm demeanor shattered. The facade had finally come down, and the real face of the man emerged. “I'll sue your ass off. All of you.”

Maddy folded her arms. It was a defensive posture, but she couldn't let him see that her hands were shaking. Thank God her boss was such an ethical man. He chose people over money, which was exactly why Maddy chose to work for his agency.

“I'd like to see you try, Christopher.” Terrence's voice was cold and steady. “Do you really think I built my reputation and my business by being careless? You can attempt to sue me, but you'll be wasting your time and energy. I have ironclad contracts. You're a good real estate agent, and so far, you have a decent reputation.” He delivered a wicked smirk and quietly said, “I'd hate to see that change.”

“Are you threatening me?” Drummond was shaking, and his hands were curled into fists. “What is this? Blackmail?”

“I'm sure you're aware that Terrence doesn't make threats he won't follow through on,” Maddy said.

“If you go quietly,” Terrence interjected. “I'm sure you'll find a new agency in no time.”

“This isn't over,” Drummond bit out.

“Madolyn, call security.”

“Yes, sir.” Maddy went to her desk and dialed the number with quaking fingers. “I need security up here, please. Cosmopolitan Realty. Suite 400. Mr. Drummond has to be escorted from the building. He no longer works here.”

Before the call was over, Drummond had vanished from the doorway. Maddy collapsed into her chair with a shaking breath and hung up the phone just as Sharon appeared behind Terrence. The young woman looked as unhinged as Maddy felt, and she could still hear Drummond pissing and moaning down the hall in his soon-to-be former office.

“Madolyn, are you alright?” Terrence asked gently.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded and fought to maintain her composure. “I'm sorry that—”

“Stop.” He held up one hand and shook his head curtly. “You are not the one who should apologize. I should have let him go months ago.”