Tell Me You Want Me by Willow Winters
Adrian
Five months earlier
My polished oxfords smack on the sleek marble tile. The floors are the only thing that look expensive in the foyer of this building. It’s old and dated just like their business practices. But that’s all about to change now that I’m in charge.
Although I keep my expression neutral, maybe cold, as I make my way to the elevator and then to the top floor where the conference room is located, I smirk to myself as I hear the soft whispers and see the secretaries huddling together.
They know who I am. Everyone who’s anyone does.
Asshole. Prick. Hell, I’ve even been called a villain. And I couldn’t care less.
I pull at the sleeves to my suit and fix my cuff links before opening the glass door. A dozen people instantly still as I walk into the room, one swivel chair squeaking as everyone goes silent. The conference room smells like the lemon polish the cleaners use on the large oval mahogany table.
That’ll be the first thing to replace. The table needs to be glass so I can monitor their body language with every meeting. My father says I was blessed with two gifts: reading people and placing bets. As a gambling man with a head for stocks and companies, I know damn well he was right. And I’ve left a sea of people who hate me for it in my wake.
I didn’t get to where I am by being nice.
I’m the boss, the CEO, the owner of whatever I want. And right now, that includes every person in this building. Straightening my tie, I remind myself I’ll have to cull the herd sooner, rather than later. For the sake of both profits and efficiency. The numbers never lie; people always do, though.
“Good afternoon,” I say, greeting them as Mr. Holt stands from his spot just to the right of the head of the table, which is empty. No one’s seated there because it’s reserved for me.
“Mr. Bradford, it’s nice to see you again,” Jonathan Holt says as he shakes my hand. He’s the former owner and now a wealthy man.
A nondisclosure agreement was signed. No one knew I’ve been the acting CEO for the last quarter. Every email, every camera feed, every contract and meeting was passed through my team. They had a quarter to prove to me this company is worth salvaging.
Not that Holt gave a fuck. He was getting paid regardless. With a tailored gray suit and fresh shave, he’s already a lighter, wealthier man than he was when I first met him six months ago to negotiate this deal.
As my eyes skim across each of the members I’ve invited for this meeting, half likely to stay, half likely to leave, a gorgeous woman catches my interest. She’s in a skintight, bloodred dress that matches her perfectly manicured nails. I’ve seen her wear it before, if I’m not mistaken. Twice, and this makes the third. The third time is the charm.
I already know who she is before she dares to stare back at me with an openly hateful look.
Suzette Parks.Passionate. Dedicated. And hot as hell. I can’t help the smirk that slips into place when she meets my gaze directly, daring me to call her out. I’ve witnessed her lose her patience, all alone in her office, on the brink of losing it. Entertaining isn’t enough of a description. I wanted nothing more than to push her against the wall and fuck the frustration out of her. My cock stirs just thinking about how her nails would dig into my back. She’s wound tight but not easily shaken. No matter what happens to this company, I’ll be damn sure to keep stock of my little vixen.
She’s the first to back down and break eye contact. At the same time, the door closes behind me thanks to Mr. Holt, and it signals the beginning of the meeting.
My smile widens and I cover it with my fist, clearing my throat and getting a grip. I knew she’d distract me, I knew she’d get under my skin but I wasn’t prepared to be this … off-balance.
I begin, still standing, and Mr. Holt follows suit. He nearly takes his seat but stands upright when I speak. “I’ll make this short. Last quarter was unimpressive and changes will be drastic. That will include layoffs and budget cuts, but is not limited to other necessities. I will rely on each of you selected from your teams for this advertising management firm.” I meet all eleven of them eye to eye as I speak. Noting which ones nod, and which ones tense up. I’m not surprised in the least until I get to Ms. Parks, who doesn’t bother to peer up. As I speak, her attention is on the pen in her hand. It’s an ink pen with a sleek silver body and it silently taps against her leatherbound book. No notes are being taken.
My voice is harder when I state, “I don’t believe in failure. Even mistakes are lessons.” The quote I’ve heard her say a dozen times in the last month rewards me with her icy blue gaze. That’s better.
I hold her there, pinning her down as I let a second pass and then another. I can practically feel the temperature rise in the room as she struggles not to squirm. The fucking table should have been replaced already.
“Unless you have anything you’d like to say, Mr. Holt,” I say and gesture toward the man. He shakes his head, his thin lips pressed in a straight line. “I don’t have anything to add,” he states and glances across the room.
I don’t miss Ms. Parks’s hardened expression toward him as well. Good. I’m not the only one she blames.
“Meeting adjourned.” I remain where I am, standing tall and watching them disperse while what I was supposed to say comes back to me. I have every name memorized and anger rises inside of me that I didn’t make it clear to them I know every detail and statistic that matters. My jaw clenches and with that, they move faster, nodding and giving short waves as they leave.
The annoyance morphs into something else as I peer back at Ms. Parks, the pen tapping harder. She hasn’t budged.
“Did you want to say something?” I question her lowly. The last two men in the room pause where they are beside Mr. Holt. Jeffries and Woods. Both were seated farthest away, both paused to my left. Woods knows what he’s doing but he’s far too casual with clients. I’ll be surprised if the threat of a severance package turns his performance around.
In her silence, I add, “You look like you have something to say.”
“Adrian Bradford,” she states, looking me in the eyes and giving me a tight smile, “we all know why you’re here.”
For the first time today, I let my emotion come through, simply raising a brow in curiosity. “Is that so?” I ask her.
“You want the company,” she says matter-of-factly and then sits back. It’s a confident move on her part as if she knows my cards.
“You’re very astute,” I say clearly condescendingly, and I love how she raises a brow back.
“To rip apart,” she adds and then pushes her chair back, standing up and letting me finally see her curves in person. The short red dress rides up just a bit too high on her left thigh, exposing more of her skin and teasing me. I’m usually able to keep my focus, but for her, I let my gaze slip.
She yanks it down.
“Leave my department alone. I won’t let anyone ruin it,” she warns. Warns me. Like this is a tit for tat. Like she has any authority at all in this game we’re playing.
“If I want to ruin something …” I pause to adjust my stance slightly as I take another long look at this woman.
“You can try all you’d like, Adrian.” The faint smile on her face when my expression hardens upon hearing her use my first name only adds to the insult.
“Suzette Parks, correct?”
Suzette.I taste her name on my tongue. I love everything about it, from the way it rolls off my lips to the manner in which it lingers there, tempting and taunting me.
She offers a nod and that’s all, swallowing down her spite and leaving the room.
“Is she typically so … combative?” I ask Mr. Holt as the glass door slams shut so hard that I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had shattered. I haven’t been on the receiving end of her wrath, but damn if it doesn’t make me harder than steel for her.
Jonathan clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable as he shifts his weight where he stands, gripping the back of the chair. “I apologize, sir,” he tells me, but that’s not the answer to the question I asked.
“Not a worry at all,” I comment, not bothering to look back at him as he rambles on. Instead I watch her go, loving that she can’t get away from me. Loving that I’ll be seeing more of her any damn time I please.