Bad Influencer by Kenzie Reed

Chapter Fifteen

Elliott

On my way into my office Monday morning, I grab a chocolate from the bowl by Edith’s desk. Then I grab a second chocolate. It’s a two-chocolate kind of day.

“You seem a little distracted today, dear,” Edith says.

“No more than usual.” I shrug.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

I give her a big, fake smile. “Just another day in paradise.”

She snorts. “If you follow that up with ‘living the dream’, you’ll be wearing my coffee.” She holds up her mug threateningly. It has a picture of her grandson on it, with chocolate frosting smeared on his face, so it’s hard to take her seriously. “Now. The ass-face from Park City Properties left a message for you threatening to sue you if you make any more baseless accusations against him. I questioned his Manny-hood and referred him to the legal department.”

His Manny-hood. Ha. “You’re a treasure, Edith. Would you like a raise?”

“I gave myself one three months ago. You signed off on it. Moving on. The reports from all of your department heads are in your inbox. I scanned them and flagged a few areas for you to review. You also need to approve your appointments for the week. I made a few adjustments. Also, I see you’re not meeting up with Jillian again until Thursday. Would you like me to try to find something sooner?”

I pin her with a suspicious glower. Her eyes are wide and innocent, which means she’s definitely doing her adoptive-aunt-interfering thing.

“Thanks, it’s fine.” And I head into my office.

It’s not fine. Of course I want to see Jillian sooner. I missed her as soon as she drove away. No, I started missing her before we even touched down in Seattle, because I knew that our magical, crazed, weird time together was over and I couldn’t imagine a reason that we’d need to live in close quarters like that again.

On Thursday, Jillian and I are scheduled to review our plans for this upcoming weekend at our Washington park, which is ninety minutes east of Seattle. And despite what I just told Edith, my brain is racing with ideas, struggling to come up with a legitimate excuse to see her sooner.

Maybe I... need to go over her campaign ideas with her?

Lame. Very see-through. Maybe I want to review the campaign so far, analyze what worked, and what didn’t, and...no, even lamer. I never micro-manage like that. I know how to delegate.

And even more importantly, I can’t date her—even if I thought that Jillian wanted to date me. The breakup with Lauren had me off my game for months. I struggled to concentrate at work; I was irritable and snappish—and that was back when I had the luxury of hiding in my office. I don’t have that luxury anymore. I’m having a hard enough time carrying out my duties as CEO and pretending that I’m “the face of family fun”. If I end up angry and heartbroken—which history tells me is where this would end—then we’re screwed.

I manage to distract myself, mostly, by throwing myself into my work for the day and plowing through all the messages and minor emergencies that accumulated while I was in Colorado.

At 6 p.m., I get an email from Edith. “Can you meet me downstairs at Nowhere Special in ten minutes? Our usual booth. I have some ideas I want to run by you.” Edith is widowed, and she lives alone since her children moved out and married ages ago, but I still wish she wouldn’t work so many late nights. I mean, yeah, I work crazy hours, but there’s no need for us all to be chained to our desks.

I answer, saying “Only if I can pick up the tab.”

She shoots back a reply. “Well, obviously”, which makes me smile. I message Cameron and Trevor, inviting them to join me.

When we get downstairs, I look for Edith at the booth I keep reserved for Bradford business in the back corner of the room. But she isn’t there yet.

We do, however, see Lauren by the bar. She’s standing by herself, wearing a bright-red, figure-hugging dress with a keyhole neckline. She sneaks a glance in my direction, then makes a big show of looking away and chatting to a man who’s just walked up to the bar. He looks dazzled, of course, a big stupid grin spreading across his face. I recognize that grin well; it once was mine.

I glance at Trevor. “Seriously, what is up with her? I mean, I guess I could have her banned from our building, but I’d prefer not to if I don’t have to. I just don’t understand why she keeps coming around.”

“I’ll review our records and see if she’s been coming here regularly, and make a note to keep an eye on her while she’s here.” He scowls in her direction.

Cameron shrugs. “Why bother wasting company resources? It’s obvious why she keeps coming around. She wants to have her cake and eat you too.” He smirks at his witticism.

“Yeah, yeah,” I scoff. “Not your best work.”

He shrugs. “It’s been a long day.”

Trevor is still watching Lauren, who’s now deliberately turned her back on the guy she was flirting with. Whatever point she was trying to make with me, she feels she’s made it. “Either she’s an obsessed semi-stalker, or she’s here because she wants to try to gather intel that she can use against your company.” His brows furrow in a scowl. ”Or maybe a bit of both. Either way, it’s a security concern, and yes, we’ll be looking into it.”

Cameron grins at me. “Trevor’s pretty intense, isn’t he? Let me go have a word with her. I can have her running for the exit in no time.”

And possibly get us sued for whatever kind of threats he snarls at her.

“Leave it.” He starts to stand up, anyway. “Seriously.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” He gives me a sloppy salute and plops back down in his seat.

“We’re ignoring her,” I say firmly. “It’s a security concern, not a personal issue. Trevor will handle it.”

I text Edith. “Did you get lost? Do you need directions? Can I draw you a map?”

I get a quick text back. ”I’m running a little late. Be there shortly.”

“Lauren’s here. Don’t worry, Trevor’s on it.”

She responds with a barf-face emoji. For a woman in her sixties, she’s taken to texting technology with a fiendish zeal.

A cocktail waitress swings by our booth, and we place our orders. I head to the bathroom. As I emerge from my stall, Lauren walks in. A man using a urinal gives her a startled glance.

“What are you looking at?” she snaps.

“He’s looking at someone who’s not supposed to be here,” I say coolly. ”I’ve made my position on talking to you quite clear.” I head to the sink and start washing my hands. The other guy scowls at her and leaves.

Lauren tosses her hair and arches her back just a little. “Listen, I’m willing for us to go to couples counseling to work on your issues,” she says. “As long as it takes.” She beams at me as if she’s just granted me the most amazing favor.

I cock my head, equally repulsed and amused. And I realize how much I don’t miss her anymore. God, I spent months and months tossing and turning every night after she left, reaching for the empty side of the bed when I was half asleep. And now… nothing.

“Well?” She pouts. “Nothing to say?”

“There’s just a lot to unpack there. Couples counseling for a couple who broke up a year ago and who will never be a couple again? And my issues?”

“Your rigidness. Your obsession with work. Your lack of spontaneity. Your insistence on holding grudges.” She reaches out to stroke my arm. “We can work on those things. I miss you. I miss us.” Her glossy red lips curve up and her eyes gleam with promise.

The promise of what, though?

I jerk my arm away and step around her.

“Thank you for the least tempting offer I’ve ever had.” I stalk out of the bathroom, not bothering to hold the door for her.

“Hey!” she squawks, as she scampers after me.

She catches up to me and grabs at my arm. ”Listen. When we get back together, I’ll quit Park City. And I have some very interesting information about them to share with you. Information that would give you the ammo you need to save your company.”

I snort in contempt. “So you’re as loyal to them as you were to me? Do whatever you want with Park City. But I’d suggest you stay out of my company’s business. Corporate espionage is illegal.”

“See, you do have issues, and you need professional help. You’re paranoid.” She looks at something behind me, then throws her arm around my waist. “But I forgive you, baby,” she says loudly. “I’m so glad you’ve agreed to give this another chance! Makeup sex is the best kind, don’t you think? So hot.”

I look behind her and see Jillian stalking by us, wearing a bartender’s apron and an expression like a thundercloud, and my heart sinks.

I’d bet a million bucks that Edith knew that Jillian was working tonight, and that’s why she lured me down here.

Unfortunately, Lauren’s doing a very good job of planting the wrong ideas in Jillian’s head. Jillian shoots me one ice-cold glare as she makes her way towards the bar.

I shake Lauren off and hurry over to Jillian, catching her right before she steps behind the bar.

“I’m a little busy,” she snaps at me. “I’ll send one of the other bartenders to take your order.”

“I don’t need a drink. What time do you get off?”

“Not as soon as you will, apparently.” She shoots a look at Lauren, then turns her back on me.

She walks behind the bar, and I follow her. “You don’t actually think that I’m back together with Lauren, do you? Because frankly, that’s kind of insulting.”

Her stiffened shoulders slump, and some of the tension leaks from her body. “No, I guess not,” she sighs. ”I’m sorry. I get off at ten. Why?”

The heat of desire floods through me, burning away all of my good intentions. Oh, hell. Willpower’s over-rated. “I need you to meet me up at the office. It’s, uh, it’s work related,” I lie. “We’ll, uh, pay you overtime.”

“I don’t get overtime.” She wrinkles up her nose. “I’m a contract employee. I’ll do it for another free weekend pass for Ari and Bronwyn at the park of their choice, though. And an overnight stay in one of your suites.”

“Done!” I say cheerfully.

I head back over to where Cameron and Trevor are sitting.

“I’m going back up to go over a few things,” I tell them.

“Sure. He’s going to get some work done.” Cameron smirks, glancing in Jillian’s direction. “Well, he’s going to get something done. Or someone. Perks of being the boss, huh?”

“Watch it,” I say sharply.

“Oh, he’s reached the ‘don’t you dare diss her’ phase of the relationship. It’s getting serious.” Cameron grins and drains the rest of his beer.

I rear back in my seat and consider what he just said. I am reacting like a protective boyfriend, aren’t I?

Cameron smirks at me. “Did I just help you reach an important conclusion that you’d be too stupid and stubborn to reach on your own? You’re welcome.”

“You’re an asshole.” I scowl at him.

“You’ve known me how long, and you’re just now figuring that out?”

“Well, at least Lauren’s gone.” Trevor indicates the door with a nod of his head. I hadn’t even noticed.