Inappropriate by Vi Keeland
Chapter 8
Ireland
“Oh good. It didn’t start yet.” A woman in a gray suit took the seat next to me at the conference table. She seemed flustered. “I heard he’s a stickler for being on time.”
“Grant?” I asked.
Her brows drew together. “Mr. Lexington, yes.”
Oh, right. Mr. Lexington. I guess he was Grant when he was a guy I was going to go out with, but now he’s back to Mr. Lexington. “His secretary came in a few minutes ago,” I said. “He’s running a few minutes late.”
The woman smiled. “Great. My daughters called, and I had to referee an argument over a hairbrush.” She extended her hand. “I’m Ellen Passman, by the way. I’m the accounting manager over in Finance.”
I shook. “Ireland Saint James or Richardson. I’m in the News division of Broadcast Media. Richardson is my on-air name.”
“Oh, I know who you are. I love your show.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“I’m really excited about this new committee. But I wish we had a little more notice. It’s the end of the month and crunch time for my department.”
I’d been curious about how this committee came about ever since Grant had called. I couldn’t shake the crazy thought that he’d made up the entire thing while on the phone with me. Of course that was ludicrous—not to mention egotistical and self-absorbed—yet the idea kept nagging at me.
“When did you get invited?” I asked.
“Just this morning. You?”
“A few days ago. Did you receive an agenda for the meeting or anything?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
The air in the room changed, and I knew who’d walked in before I turned my head. Grant Lexington stood just inside the door with the VP of the News division, Kate Benton, my boss’s boss, who was also his sister. He scanned the room, and his eyes stopped upon finding me—as if he’d found what he was looking for, which was crazy.
His gaze was so intense that it made me want to fidget in my seat.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Thank you all for coming.” He turned to his sister. “I’m sure you all know Kate. She’s the Vice President of Broadcast Media.”
People thanked him for inviting them, but I stayed quiet, observing.
There were a few open seats: the head of the table, one down at the far end of my side, one directly across from me, and one to my left. Without discussion, his sister moved to the open seat a few spots over—I got the feeling this man took the power seat in every room he walked into.
But then he surprised me. He pulled the chair from the head of the table and held it out. “Kate.”
His sister seemed just as surprised, but she turned back and took the seat anyway. Grant unbuttoned his jacket and pulled out the chair next to me. He leaned close as he settled in and whispered quietly, “Good to see you, Ireland.”
I nodded. No one at the table seemed to notice anything strange—certainly not that he’d taken the seat next to me and moved it a little closer than it had been before, and luckily not that my mind was reeling from the way he smelled: clean, but with a masculine, woodsy edge.
For the next half hour, I tried to ignore the man sitting next to me and tried not to fidget. But I had to look at Kate while she spoke, which meant Grant’s profile was directly in my line of sight. It also meant I noticed how tanned his skin looked, and that he had a slight white line on the sides of his head from sunglasses. I wouldn’t have taken him for the outdoorsy type. But it looked like he spent a lot of time in the sun. His skin was bronzed, his hair slicked back, and it could use a trim at the edges where it reached his collar. He had the start of a five o’clock shadow, even though it was only ten in the morning. I wondered if he shaved at night or if he just had so much testosterone that a beard started sprouting just a couple of hours after he put down the razor.
My gut said it was the latter.
Possibly feeling eyes on him, Grant turned and looked at me. His eyes immediately dropped to my lips, and I lost the battle I’d waged not to fidget. I forced my attention back to Kate, but I didn’t miss the slight lip twitch from the man next to me before he refocused on his sister.
“Why don’t we go around the room and open the floor for possible agenda items for our next meeting?” Kate said. “I’d love to hear what you all think are some of our most pressing women’s issues here at Lexington Industries.”
“That’s a great idea,” Grant said.
Some of the women were more enthusiastic than others. One woman spoke about the need for a breastfeeding room. Another spoke about mixing family responsibilities with work and how flexible hours in the workplace would be a great asset to working moms and dads. An older woman advocated for equal pay for women, which had been the issue I’d planned to speak about since I had personal experience with it. Two women passed on speaking, saying they needed to give it some thought, and then it was my turn. I’d been about to second the other woman’s comments on equal pay when I felt Grant’s eyes on me. At the last second, I decided to screw with him.
“I think sexual harassment needs to be addressed. Things like a boss or a boss’s boss’s boss asking a woman out to lunch.”
Grant kept his face stern, yet I caught the slight tick of the muscle in his jaw.
“Absolutely,” Kate said. “Things like that should never happen.”
Grant cleared his throat. “I do a lot of business over meals. It’s partially out of necessity because there are only so many hours in the day. Are you saying we should put an end to the practice of people sharing lunch altogether?”
I addressed him directly. “Not at all. But it’s a slippery slope, and it’s often difficult for a woman to know if a man is inviting her to lunch to discuss business or if there’s more to it.”
Grant held my eyes for a few heartbeats and then gave a curt nod. “Very well. Add that to the agenda for our next meeting.” He stood abruptly. “I think this has been a good start. I’ll have my assistant type up notes and schedule the next meeting.”
Kate looked just as confused as most of the people at the table. But I got the feeling she was used to her brother’s abruptness. She smoothed things over. “Yes, we appreciate you all taking time to kick things off with us, and we look forward to addressing the many unique needs of women in the workplace. I think this committee is going to do very good things for Lexington Industries. Thank you for making the time, everyone.”
I stayed in my seat as people got up, eavesdropping on a conversation between Grant and Kate.
“You decide to create this committee, come up with a flimsy agenda three hours ago, and stick me at the head of the table to punt.” Kate shook her head. “I finally get things going, and you grow bored. Do me a favor, don’t take an interest in any committees anymore.” She shuffled the papers in front of her and turned on her heel to walk out.
I rose and headed for the door. But I felt Grant walk up behind me. He discreetly took my elbow and steered me to the right as we exited the conference room.
“Can we speak for a moment?” he whispered.
“Sure. Would you like to hear more about my thoughts on sexual harassment?” I offered a smug smile.
His jaw flexed, and I continued to walk by his side down the hall to his office. Arriving, he extended a hand for me to walk in first. “This is me being a gentleman. I hope it’s not a form of harassment.”
Grant spoke to his assistant from the doorway while I took a look around his office. It was large, the proverbial corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows covering two walls, a masculine-looking, carved, dark wood desk in the center, and a separate seating area to one side. A framed photo on a credenza caught my attention—Grant and his two sisters with an older woman, who I assumed might be his mother. Though I didn’t ask when he walked in and joined me.
He motioned to the seating area. “Please, have a seat.”
He took the seat across from me, unbuttoned a cufflink, and started to roll up one of his shirtsleeves. “So…your boss’s boss’s boss asking you to lunch is sexual harassment?”
My eyes had been glued to his muscular forearms. I blinked a few times and looked up. I’d been teasing him when I said that in the conference room, but the look in his eyes wasn’t playful. “I was just screwing around with you.”
“So you didn’t find it harassing when I asked you to lunch to discuss your reinstatement?”
I’d actually been referring to when he’d asked me to lunch before I knew who he was. But Grant looked genuinely concerned that he’d upset me. I felt like I should let him off the hook.
I shook my head. “I never felt harassed. Sexual harassment is an unwelcome sexual advance. You never propositioned me once I knew who you were, and, if I’m being honest, any advance you made in the coffee shop wasn’t unwelcome.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed. “I apologize if I put you in a precarious position in the coffee shop.”
I was honest. “It’s okay. Like I said, it wasn’t unwelcome.”
Grant seemed to avoid looking at me. He nodded and finished rolling up the other sleeve before standing. “Thank you for your candor.”
I stood. “Of course.”
A moment of awkwardness settled in between us. I was acutely aware of how much my body liked being this close to him. The air had a crackle to it whenever he was near, and I didn’t think I was the only one who felt it—probably not the best thing to be thinking about right after the meeting we’d just had.
“Okay…well…I’ll see you at the next meeting, I guess.”
Grant nodded. He looked like he wanted me to leave his office almost as much as I wanted to leave…which was not at all. Nevertheless, I took a few steps toward the door. Then I changed my mind. If I could be candid, so could he.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“What is it?”
“Did you make up the women’s committee while you were on the phone with me? Or was it something you had in the works?”
Grant raised one brow. “You’re very full of yourself, aren’t you? The president of a multinational company makes up an entire initiative just to have the chance to spend a little time with you?”
I felt my cheeks heat. I knew how egotistical it sounded... I laughed nervously. “I guess that is a little insane.”
Grant stepped closer to me. “It would also be highly inappropriate, wouldn’t it now?”
I could’ve sworn there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Damn, my imagination was really having a field day. I needed to get the hell out of here. “Yes. Yes, I suppose it would be.” I shook my head. “I should get back to work.”
I suddenly had the urge to flee and headed for the door.
As I reached the doorway, Grant called after me. “Ireland?”
I turned back. Dear God, the man was handsome. He was the kind of gorgeous your eyes snagged on while walking and made you trip over your own two feet—basically the dangerous kind women should keep away from, particularly with the cocky smile he wore on his face.
“I’m glad we’ve cleared up that any advance wasn’t unwelcome. I’ll see you around…soon.”
My brain felt like it was misfiring as I walked out of his office. What the hell had just happened? I’d admitted that I welcomed any advance by him, and he’d admitted what…?
I played the conversation over in my mind as I headed for the elevator. While I had been forthcoming, Grant hadn’t actually admitted anything. In fact, when I asked him if he’d created the meeting just for my benefit, he’d turned the question around on me. He never did give me a straight answer, did he?
