Mob Boss’ Curvy Hostage by Lisa Lovell
Chapter Two
Ronnie
Well, she’s certainly better than Amy Bridgeport, that’s for damn sure. When I spoke to Amy on the phone last week, I could tell she wasn’t all there. I’m glad I had the situation remedied.
“I don’t know if Amy told you this,” she says as she leads me to the elevator, “but the fifth floor has been abandoned for a long time. I have a lovely meeting room on the twelfth if you-”
“I selected the fifth floor for a reason,” I say, noting the confusion on her face. She has no idea who she’s dealing with. Maybe that’s for the best. She seems smart enough to only ask the questions that need asking, and nothing more. She hasn’t tried to make small talk, which is appreciated. I can tell she’s nervous, though she’s doing a remarkable job of hiding it. Someone less skilled in reading people wouldn’t have picked up on it. Luckily, I did.
The elevator is paneled with mirrors. Everywhere I look, her stunning face is reflected back at me. It doesn’t escape my notice how her dress, coffee stains and all, hugs her full figure. Good lord, her curves defy gravity, physics, and anything else that can be defied.
Everything about her is pretty and appealing. If I were in one of my own buildings, I’d make a move on her right now, but I hold myself back.
I need to snap myself out of this. I’m here to pull funds from one of my accounts and leave. The quicker the better. I can’t allow myself to get caught up in anything else.
“Right this way.” She leads me through a darkened floor into a dimly lit conference room. “Only a few of the lights still work. I hope that’s all right.”
“Almost like a private dinner.”
“Without the food,” she smirks. “Pick whichever seat you prefer.”
I take the less illuminated seat so that I can get a better look at her while we talk. “You haven’t introduced yourself.”
“Neither have you,” she points out. She’s starting to relax now. Good. Now I can get a proper feel for her. I need to know she’s suitable to handle my affair.
“But you know my name. You would have seen it on the schedule.”
“That’s not the same as you introducing yourself.” Her smile grows.
“Ryan Madison.” I hold out my hand for her to shake.
“Sophie Martin.”
Our hands stay locked for a little longer than they need to. She’s the one who pulls away first, her cheeks coloring.
“What can I do for you today, Mr. Madison?” She asks. “Amy didn’t leave any details on the schedule, so I apologize if I’m making you go over things twice.”
“I didn’t give her details,” I explain. “I did give her some account numbers.”
“These?” She places a slightly rumpled pink post-it note on the table. “This isn’t how I store information. Amy scribbled this all down before she left. Luckily, I found it.”
Yes, those,” I furrow my brow. My initial instincts about Ms. Bridgeport were right after all.
“I called her to confirm yesterday,” I say. “Between you and me, she seemed really flustered.”
“She’s made some rather large life changes recently.” Sophie is choosing her words carefully. “I suspect she’s trying to find a balance.”
Sophie’s passed another test without realizing she’s done it. Excellent.
“I get your meaning. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” I pull out all of the necessary documents, carefully edited to contain only the required information. “I need to transfer a sum from one account to another.”
“Sounds easy enough.” She takes the first paper and looks it over. As expected, her eyes widen and her face loses a few shades of color.
“It’s not a typo. You’re reading the correct amount.”
“One hundred and fifty million dollars.” She’s trying not to sound shocked, but she’s failing. “Transactions of that size take time, Mr. Madison.”
“I’m aware, but I’m hoping we can bypass as much of the process as necessary. I need those funds transferred from their current account – a temporary holding account- and put into this one.” I slide a second piece of paper toward her. That sheet contains the total amount in the account. If she thinks one hundred and fifty million is a large sum, she’s in for another shock.
“I can start the process for you today, but there isn’t a lot I can do to bypass anything. Perhaps if you broke the amount into a series of small transactions? Each small transaction can be completed quickly.”
“How small are we talking? This is time-sensitive.” Before she can answer, my phone rings. “One moment, please.”
I walk out into the corridor to answer the phone.
“Make it quick. I’m in a meeting,” I snap.
“Don’t take that tone with me. I’ve had a bitch of a day already and you not being here isn’t helping.” I recognize Sienna’s voice instantly. She wouldn’t be calling unless it was important.
“What happened?”
“The target is getting squirrely and my hands are tied. You need to get your ass over here.”
“Damn it. Fine.” I hang up the phone without saying anything else and return to Sophie.
“Is everything alright?” She asks.
“No,” I sigh. “Something came up back at the office. I’ve got to run. I will call to reschedule this meeting. We can talk more about breaking the amount up. Do you have a business card?”
“No.” She looks embarrassed. “But I will give you my number.” She tears a piece of paper from a discarded notepad and scribbles her number down before sliding it to me.
I fold it up and put it into my coat pocket.
“Thank you, Sophie.” I extend my hand to hers. When she takes it, something zaps through me so strongly, I’m tempted to call Sienna back and tell her to fuck off just so I can stay here longer. “I look forward to our next meeting.”
“Me too,” she says, a little breathless. “I hope we can tackle your transfer quickly.”
“Maybe not too quickly.” I wink before I take my leave. Flirting with the banker is probably a terrible idea, but I’ve always been drawn to terrible ideas.