Engage (Billionaire Series) (12 page)

Jennifer mentally
cursed. What was he doing? Any hope she’d had that he’d matured out of his
irrational jealousy was shattered as anger passed across Brad’s face and he
headed straight for her.

“So, who’s this?”
Brad demanded, eyes raking over Philip. “Why are you at a hotel with him in the
middle of the day?”

“Calm down,” Jennifer
felt like she was going to throw up. “Brad, this is Philip Haas. He’s my boss.”

“Your boss?” Brad
scoffed. “I thought you answered phones and shit.”

“Jennifer is my
personal assistant,” Philip’s voice was calmly polite, but his deliberate use
of her first name spoke volumes.

“Right,” Brad
turned towards Jennifer, a smile on his face. “I bet I know how you got that
job. Am I right?” He wasn’t shouting, but his voice was definitely getting
louder. “Did you earn it the way I taught you?”

“Brad,” Jennifer
interrupted, horrified at what he might say next. “Why are you here?”

“I just want to
talk to you.”

“I’m working,”
Jennifer gave Philip a nervous glance.

“We need to talk,”
Brad grabbed Jennifer’s wrist.

“Take your hand off
of her,” Philip’s tone was scarily quiet.

“Jennifer,” Brad
ignored the other man.

“Do I need to call
security?” Something in Philip’s voice made Jennifer think that maybe he’d
prefer to handle the situation himself.

“No,” Jennifer
shook her head and pulled her arm back from Brad. She took a step away from her
ex and towards Philip, keeping her eyes on Brad. “I’ll talk to you later. We
have a meeting we need to get to.”

“Fine,” Brad didn’t
look happy but the dangerous glint had left his eyes. He’d never gotten
physically violent with Jennifer, but she had seen him take a swing or two at
random guys when he was pissed or drunk. And he’d always been good at making a
scene. That was the last thing she needed to happen. “I’ll be at your apartment
tomorrow evening. We’ll talk then.” He turned and walked out.

“Nice guy,” Philip
commented as he looked down at Jennifer. “Is your wrist okay?”

Jennifer nodded.
She was sure she was shaking. So much was happening too fast. Just a couple of
days ago, she’d been happy with her boring little life – well, pretty much
happy. Then Philip had come along and turned everything upside-down. She felt
like she could now truly say that she knew what an emotional roller-coaster was
like.

“Just some guy from
back home,” she hoped that would be enough of a response. She really didn’t
want Philip to know that her one previous lover had been Brad. If she hated the
thought of Rachel finding out, the idea of Philip knowing made her physically
ill.

Fortunately, Philip’s
phone beeped and he started walking again. “We need to get going. This wasn’t
the only meeting today. There’s a huge negotiation at one of my other hotels
across town that we need to get to.” He held the door for her. “I’m going to
need detailed notes on this one, Jennifer. Pay special attention to any
requests made by the other side. There’ll be a lot to keep straight.”

Jennifer nodded,
brain scrambling to keep up. As she climbed into the back seat, she couldn’t
help but wonder how the hell she was supposed to concentrate on mundane things
after all of the day’s insanity.

I was still
screeching down the roads, narrowly avoiding collision with several other
drivers as I veered wildly from lane to lane in my panic to get away from the
scene of the shooting. I must have been doing about 80 on the narrow city
streets, but the adrenaline was pumping through my body and I was unable to
slow down. It felt as if the shooters were just meters behind us, ready to
punch another hole in my windscreen, or worse, through us!

It wasn’t until I
was halfway out of the city that Mathis put his hand on my arm, squeezing my
wrist soothingly and stroking my skin, easing the tenseness of the muscles. I
hadn’t even looked at him since we had roared away from my parking spot, and
the part of me that wasn’t in shock was relieved that he was sitting next to
me.

“Amanda, you can
slow down now,” he said gently. “We’re well beyond their reach. The only thing
you have to worry about now is wrapping us around a tree.”

I slowed the car,
let out a short laugh, bordering on hysterical, and wondered how he could
possibly joke after what had just happened. Nevertheless, his words calmed me
down a little, and I pulled the car over to the side of the road. As I turned
off the ignition I let out a whoosh of breath I hadn’t even known I was holding
in. My hands were shaking badly and I realized – too late - that my face was
streaked with tears. I hadn’t even been aware that I was crying! Hastily I
wiped them off, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. The whole time,
Mathis was gently stroking my arm. It made me feel as if I were a kite being
anchored down to the ground by a strong, safe presence.

“Are you doing okay,
Amanda?” he asked. His tone was soft and gentle, as if he were trying to soothe
a frightened animal.

“Yeah,” I said.
“I-I’m fine. Are
you
okay?”

“Never better,” he
said wryly. Something about the tone of his voice made me look at him, and only
then did I realize that his shoulder was stained crimson.

“You’re bleeding!”
I gasped. “Did they hit you? Why didn’t you say something?”

“It’s fine,” Mathis
insisted.

“No it’s not! You’re
shot!” I pointed out. “Oh god, I just drove in the opposite direction from all
the hospitals. I think there’s one about ten minutes away – or, maybe, should I
call an ambulance?” I had never been in anything close to this kind of
situation. “Yeah, yeah, that’s probably best. I’ll call an ambulance. Just hold
on – don’t go to sleep.” Somewhere in the back of my mind, or from all the
action movies I’d seen, was the idea that someone injured falling asleep was a
bad idea. “Are you in a lot of pain? Oh no, we should stop the bleeding first!”

“Amanda,” Mathis
raised his voice a little over my panicked babbling, a mixture of amusement and
impatience. “I’m fine. Really. The bullet must have scratched me a little, but
it’s not deep. Honestly, I’m more concerned about you than anything. That must’ve
been scary.”

Damn right it was
scary! But I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle myself. “Are you sure
you’re alright?” I asked suspiciously, knowing how Mathis as a teenager. He’d
always shrugged off his wounds in favor of my welfare.

“I promise,” Mathis
assured me. “If I needed to go to a hospital, I’d ask you to take me to a
hospital. It’s just a small scratch.”

“But you still need
to get patched up,” I insisted. “You’re still bleeding a lot, and it could get
infected. What should we do?”

 “Are you calm
enough to keep driving?” Mathis looked at me seriously with eyes of concern.

How could he be so
calm? We could be dead right now! Bam! Shot in the street – no – in my car! Who
shot at us, anyway? And I’d just had the interior cleaned and now I felt like
an idiot for even bothering. Oh, what the hell am I even thinking right now?
Mathis is so calm. I had to sound sure of myself. “Yes, definitely,” I said.
Yeah, maybe we won’t be shot at anymore. Or maybe once I slow the car down to a
halt, we’ll get jumped! Oh god, I have to stop thinking about dying at any
moment. I just have to focus on breathing. Yes, breathing. In and out, in and
out.

My heart pounding
in my ears was finally subsiding. Now that I was over the shock of our
encounter and been reassured that Mathis’ wound was not too serious, I felt
strangely calm. It was almost like all the emotion had been stopped up for the
time being and my mind was completely logical able to follow instructions but
unable to process anything further than that. I knew at some point the horror
and fear would flood back, but for now, I felt perfectly calm.

“Okay. Listen
Amanda, I want you to drive me back to my place. It’s on the north side of
town. I’ll direct you as we go, so don’t worry about the exact location just
yet. Can you do that?”

“Yes, no problem,”
I agreed nodding.

“Good.” Mathis
smiled at me, and, despite the circumstances, my heart did a little flip in my
chest at his gorgeous, quirky smile. “Can you do one more thing?”

“Sure.”

“Pull over to the
side of the road for just a moment.”

The idea of being
killed right on the spot after I stopped shot through my brain, but I focused
on following Mathis’ directions. “Uh…okay, yeah, I can do that.” I let out a
deep breath of air as I maneuvered the car over to the side of the road.

“Great. Okay, now,
my phone is in my left pants pocket,” he said. “I don’t want to jar my
shoulder, so I’d like you to get it for me.”

I saw that his left
hand – the uninjured one – was still holding onto my wrist, stroking it gently.
I wondered if he, like me, needed the physical contact and the comfort. I
decided not to draw any attention to it – I wasn’t sure if I could keep myself
together if he let go of me.

“Sure, I’ll get
it,” I said. Careful not to jar his shoulder, I leaned over and reached into
his pocket, still damp from the rain. Luckily the pocket wasn’t deep, so I didn’t
have to fish around for the phone. I pulled out the stylish smart phone and
held it out to him.

“If you go to the
directory, there should be a number saved under Dr. Carson. He’s my personal
doctor. Call him and ask him to meet us at my apartment. He knows the address,
just give him my name. Don’t go into details – just ask him to come right
away.”

“Got it,” I said,
dialing the number. Luckily, the doctor picked up quickly, and I parroted what
Mathis had told me.

“All set,” I said
with forced brightness, giving Mathis what I hoped was an encouraging grin.

“You did a great
job,” Mathis said, giving my hand a squeeze, stroking the skin soothingly. I
couldn’t help but smile in return as he gave me his own warm, comforting smile.
“Not many women could deal with this situation as well as you – maybe none that
I know of.”

“Are you kidding
me?” I asked incredulously, and Mathis gave a small laugh, his face creasing a
little in pain as his shoulder moved.

“Okay, let’s get
going,” Mathis said. “It’s only a short drive. We’ll be there before you know
it. I’ll explain everything once we’ve had a chance to calm down and my
shoulder is fixed up.”

I had been so
preoccupied with getting away and with Mathis being hurt that I hadn’t even
given a thought as to
why
we had been attacked. I guess I had just
assumed that it was a random shooting that we had been caught up in the middle
of. But right now, I was too focused on getting Mathis home to think about what
he meant by ‘explain everything’.

I’m sure this is
all some sort of mistake or that there’s a completely understandable reason why
this craziness is happening. Mathis wouldn’t jeopardize his public image and
company with anything shady.

As I turned on the
ignition again, I let the thought slip out of my head, focusing entirely on
getting to our destination.

The Carlisle had a
little lower ranking than The Preminenza, but only because it was in a slightly
poorer section of the city. Poorer only by comparison. It was still fairly
upscale. The layout and decor of both hotels were very similar so there was
nothing new to distract Jennifer from the circles her mind was making as she
waited for the meeting to start.

What could Brad
possibly want to talk to her about? He’d made it pretty clear when he’d dumped
her that she didn’t have anything to offer that he wanted. And then there was
Philip. What must he be thinking about the exchange? Did he suspect who Brad
was?

Jennifer was so
caught up in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the negotiation begin. It
wasn’t until Philip’s voice – a sound that she was quickly becoming attuned to
– cut through her questions that she snapped back to attention.  Philip was
addressing a dark-haired young man a bit more sternly than Jennifer had heard
him speak before.

“Mr. Young, you’re
the chosen representative of the hotel’s housekeeping staff and yet you are
unable to articulate, in simple concise terms, what your people want?”

Mr. Young looked
insulted and he shuffled a few of the papers in front of him. Jennifer
remembered what Philip had said about recording requests and she readied her
pen.

“Mr. Haas, my
people’s demands are simple. Better hours and higher pay, which they greatly
deserve.”

Philip leaned back
in his seat, his fingertips pressed together. “I understand, Mr. Young, that
the hours are long and tiring, but all of the statistics I’ve seen say the same
thing. The problem is the ineffectual organization of said hours rather than a
need for a change of schedule. Once the hours are corrected, the current pay
will be adequate.” His tone was even, but firm.

Jennifer jotted
down Philip’s claim, her eyes darting towards the annoyed representative for
his response.

“Well, I will tell
you this, Mr. Haas,” Mr. Young scowled. “Someone like you cannot begin to
imagine what my people are going through on a daily basis. We will not budge on
our demands. If you do not agree to raise their wages and change their hours,
your housekeeping staff will go on strike.”

As she wrote down
the, for lack of a better word, threat, Jennifer couldn’t help but think about
how different Philip seemed facing off against Mr. Young than he had when he
was in Japan. Was Philip being so intimidating with this young man because of
what had happened with Brad? Philip had seemed a bit intense when Brad had
grabbed her.

Philip’s voice
caught her attention again. “You are correct, Mr. Young, that I have not worked
on a cleaning crew. However, had you done your research, you would have found
that I have worked as a bell boy and did work my way up through the ranks in
most positions before I became CEO.”

Jennifer pressed
her lips together, stopping herself from wanting to ask Philip questions. She
didn’t know that Philip had gone through the ranks to get to his current
position. She had assumed he was just someone hired from a different hotel or
perhaps out of an MBA program.

Philip’s sternness
with the young man to put him in his place made her wonder what it would be
like to watch him do the same to Brad.

“Mr. Young,” Philip
raised an eyebrow. “Who hired you to represent the housekeeping staff?”

“Sir?” Philip
shifted in his seat, face flushing.

Philip glanced at
Jennifer and then looked meaningfully at her notebook. For a moment, Jennifer
was afraid that Philip had caught her daydreaming, but then she realized that
Mr. Young was nervously eyeing her notebook and she understood what Philip
wanted. She fixed an attentive look on her face and made a note of Philip’s
question.

“Who hired you?”
Philip repeated, his voice dropping to that soft, almost scary, tone that made
Jennifer shiver.

“I don’t think that’s
relevant, Mr. Haas,” the young man couldn’t look Philip in the eyes.

“Oh, I think it’s
quite relevant, Mr. Young,” Philip’s eyes were as hard as his voice. “After
all, the coordinating manager who hired you, Tom Evans, is your half-brother.”

Jennifer wasn’t
sure who was more shocked by the revelation, her or Mr. Young.

Philip continued.
“Unlike you, I did my research, including looking beyond your last names. I
knew who hired you, but I decided to give you an opportunity to present your
case. It didn’t matter to me why you’d been hired, so long as you could do your
job. It seems to me, however, that your concern lies with getting a raise for
the coordinating manager since his income is directly proportional to that of
his staff.”

“Sir, Mr. Haas,
Sir, I-” Mr. Young stammered, his face paling. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

Philip held up a
hand to stop any additional apologies. “If you want to stay employed, Mr.
Young, you will need to change the attitude with which you do your job. Honest,
hard work, is what will keep you working for me. Anything less will get you
fired, and most likely blacklisted from every major hotel chain in the
country.”

What little color
had still been in the representative’s face drained away.

“Take care, Mr.
Young,” Philip leaned forward. “You may never again meet another person as
generous as I am being right now.”

“I understand,” Mr.
Young nodded enthusiastically. “Thank you, Sir.”

“We’re done here.
Contact my office after you discuss things with your people,” Philip stood.
“Miss Brooks.”

Jennifer blinked at
the abrupt change and scrambled to her feet. She hurried after Philip as he
left the conference room. She waited until they were in the elevator before
asking the question that had popped into her mind.

“May I ask…why didn’t
you fire him?”

Philip gave her a
look of approval at the question. “Sometimes having a bit of mercy is better.
Firing him would mean I would also need to fire the coordinating manager. That
gives me two positions that I need to fill, training that needs to be done, and
the housekeeping department loses their representative.”

“So you don’t want
to have to hire new people?” Jennifer wasn’t sure she understood. “But now you
have two people working for you who aren’t being entirely honest.”

Philip crossed his
arms and leaned back against the elevator wall. “Do you think Mr. Young will
ever lie to me again?”

Jennifer shook her
head.

“From now on, he’s
going to work twice as hard as he would’ve even if he’d been hired legitimately,”
Philip explained. “He’s going to be on edge and when he talks to his brother,
that’s going to carry over. Mr. Young will explain how very generous I was and
how lucky they both are. They’re going to watch every step very carefully,
never sure if one little mistake is going to get them fired.”

She nodded. “I get
it.”

“Now, for my
question,” Philip straightened as the elevator dinged. As they walked through
the doors and into the lobby, he asked, “you seemed a bit distracted in there.
What was so heavy on your mind?”

Jennifer looked
away. “O-oh! I’m so sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention! It was
nothing, really.”

“Are you sure?”
Genuine concern warmed Philip’s voice.

“I’m sure,” her
stomach tightened at the realization that he cared, but she still couldn’t
bring herself to admit what she’d been thinking.

“All right,” Philip
agreed.

They arrived back
at the car. He slid into the back seat first and Jennifer followed. “You’re
going to have tomorrow off,” he said suddenly. “There’s a private board meeting
I need to attend.”

“Oh,” Jennifer
tried not to let her disappointment color her voice. “I understand.”

“I will call you
when I need you,” Philip added, a softness to his voice that sounded strange
after the way he’d been talking to Mr. Young.

As silence fell
over them, Jennifer let her mind wander back over the day. She felt like she
had learned more about Philip in the past few hours than she had the entire
time they were in Japan. He wasn’t just a diplomat, persuading people to his
point of view with careful questions. He could be strict and firm, making
authoritative statements with clear consequences. It was a lot, she realized,
like they were growing a real relationship, or whatever it was between them. He
definitely had a lot more substance to him than she’d originally thought.