Executive Perks (2 page)

The forwardness of it, given the context, annoyed her.

“Nor do I want to,” she answered stiffly. For all she knew, there might have even been a double-entendre in there somewhere, although maybe she was getting paranoid. “I agreed to meet you because I want to put an end to this nonsense. But I don’t intend to cut some kind a deal in the back alley, er, cafeteria, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t run my business that way.”

“I’m quite aware of that, Miss Beckett. Your business is very well run, especially since you took over from your father. That’s what attracted me to it in the first place.”

“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t find it a compliment to be taken over.”

She knew she was being surly, but she didn’t care.

He leaned casually against the vending machine. “How do you know I’m proposing taking you over?”

“An educated guess.”

He seemed to be studying her and when his black lashes flicked down, she got the most bizarre sensation. It was somewhere between outrage that he might be checking her out and a visceral excitement at it. Jesus, she was getting pathetic. She really had to break down and go out on a date once and a while. Once this was all over, of course.

“Well, I’m not going to be coy with you, Miss Beckett.
I
don’t operate that way.”

“No, nothing coy about you. Just the old sledgehammer.”

“Look, can we chill out?”

She warmed to the slightly annoyed tone. Those intense blue eyes were focused squarely on her face now. Good, she’d gotten his attention.

“I’m not interested in
chilling out
, Mr. Winston. I’m interested in making you go away.”

“Why are you so anxious to get rid of me?” he asked softly.

He was edging closer to her—how tall was he, anyway?—and she unknowingly moved backward toward the soda machine. “Look, Mr. Winston, getting your hands on that stock was an anomaly. It should
not
have happened, but nothing like that will happen again. I can promise you that. You’ll have paid a great deal of money for something that will never be anything more than a powerless minority voice in a family owned company. So why don’t you just name your price and get the hell out of my company.”

Clutching her can of cola as if it might prove to be some kind of weapon, Virginia Beckett looked royally pissed off. It didn’t exactly surprise him. Most of his targets were at first. So he knew that he should stay away from her for now and let her cool off. No good could come out of any one-on-ones between them at this point. But when he’d recognized her in the cafeteria, it had seemed like fate and he hadn’t been able to resist approaching her. For one thing, he was surprised by how sexy she was in person, with dark blonde hair and big gray-blue eyes, not to mention a killer body. Full, high tits with mile-long legs. They didn’t capture that kind of detail on the cover of Fortune. It made him half regret they weren’t meeting under friendlier circumstances.

Unfortunately, he’d already dropped a hefty amount into her company and wasn’t willing to kiss off the investment just yet. He knew what he should do was present her with the solution he had come up with, or march back to the conference room and present it to her and her lawyer. But he couldn’t resist teasing her first. Something about the uptight corporate exec vibe she was giving off made him want to for some reason.

“Any price?”

Virginia visibly relaxed, smiling smugly, and stood her ground, no longer inching away from him. “Greenmail is a dirty word these days,” she said, referring to the practice of certain corporate raiders of threatening to take over a company to extract a bribe from management to go away. “Just be careful not to get too greedy.”

Aaron flashed a gaze down her body, the gray silk snug against her tiny waist and the high curve of her breasts hidden by the demure neckline.

How about fucking you? Is that too greedy?

For one terrified second, he was afraid he had uttered the crude, completely inappropriate words out loud. He froze.

Since he was still standing and hadn’t been belted one, he assumed he hadn’t.

Instead he said, “You seem pretty fond of BFD and I’m going to assume it’s not for the same reason most CEOs cling to their jobs, namely for the fat pay packages and petty little fiefdoms.”

“For the sake of the civility of our negotiations, I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that,” she murmured icily.

For half a second, he was tempted to say, “Good, then you can pretend that I didn’t do this either.”

He’d place his hands on her shoulders and gently nudge her back against the soda machine, then close the space between their bodies, feeling the luscious length of her against him, and before she could react, he’d kiss her lightly, his tongue tracing her soft, surprised mouth. The can she had been clutching would drop with a clatter to the floor and he’d move his hand down to her ass.

That’s when the slap would undoubtedly come, probably as hard as she could possibly make it, given her mood.

It would almost be worth it, though.

He cut short his daydream and smiled faintly. Smutty fantasies usually didn’t overtake him in the presence of business associates, not to mention about them. He chalked it up to surprise at how attractive she was.

“You didn’t hear me out. I said I’m assuming you’re
not
clinging to the independence of your company for those reasons. I’m assuming you have some kind of sentimental attachment because your family founded the company.”

“I wouldn’t call it sentimental. I’d call it a sense of value, of purpose, that you, with all your voracious gobbling up of companies, could never understand.”

“Whatever. I wouldn’t want to interfere with that. What I’m trying to say here is that I’ve thought about how we could make this a win-win situation and I’m willing to have you stay on as CEO of BFD. That’s a concession I almost never make. And if you agree to the merger to make BFD a subsidiary of Winston Enterprises, I’d be willing to give you an ownership stake in Winston as well as a hefty cash payment. Maybe even an operating role in the bigger company if it works out.”

“My, my, be still, my heart.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected, but she hadn’t even thought about it. In his book, that intransigence made her less than the businesswoman he’d thought she was. He found himself feeling a little less warm toward her.

“Again, no thanks, Mr. Winston. I meant what I said. BFD is my family’s company. It’s the only one I’m interested in running and I’m not interested in running it with any interference from any parent company or from you. If I don’t want you as a stockholder, what makes you think I’d want you as a boss?”

“As long as you make your numbers, you wouldn’t have any interference from me.”

“It’s all about the bottom line with somebody like you, isn’t it, Mr. Winston? Not people, not heritage—”

This was rapidly getting more heated than he’d intended. He didn’t back down from the argument, though. He rarely did. He was glad a quick glance around confirmed the cafeteria was empty. “I don’t know what people you’re talking about, but if you mean stockholders, mine are damn happy, thank you. And no, I don’t have a heritage to worry about. I made what I have. I didn’t inherit it.”

“Stole what you have, you mean,” she muttered, but loud enough for him to hear it.

“Fuck you.”

It just slipped out. Forget about smutty daydreams. She had managed to make him drop his cardinal rule of staying calm in initial meetings with a target, never losing his temper. But the thought that this corporate princess with all her family money was judging him and his methods unexpectedly infuriated him. Maybe he wasn’t as squeaky clean as she thought she was, but he’d done what he had to. Done things she’d never even imagine dirtying her hands with.

She popped open her Diet Coke and took a sip. “No thanks to that either.”

“Don’t be so hasty.”

Those gorgeous gray-blue eyes watched him thoughtfully. “You’re probably the kind of guy who never took the hint in college when a woman said she was washing her hair.”

“You may find this hard to believe, Miss Beckett, but I never heard that.”

He didn’t bother to point out that was because he’d never attended college. He was too busy working his ass off trying to stay off the streets of New York.

“That tells me more about who you were asking out than it does about you.”

Something about the way she was getting calmer and he was getting more worked up in the course of this conversation was just wrong. He tried to take back the upper hand. “Cut this bullshit. You’ve heard the proposal. Our companies are a good fit. I’m willing to cut you in on it, but if you’re not interested I’ll steamroll right over you.”

“You can try.” She took another sip from the can. “Who are you talking to in my company, by the way? Who gave you the tip? The greedy old aunt of mine you purchased your stock from wasn’t exactly advertising on eBay. I assume someone knew who to approach.”

“I don’t divulge my confidential sources.” He leaned against the vending machine, all his thoughts of getting a Coke himself long gone. “At least without some kind of a payment.”

“I don’t reward corporate spying.”

“You’re such a good girl, Miss Beckett. It almost tempts me to find out if you have a bad side.”

Annoyed as he was with her, she was quite sexy in her own way—well, in anyone’s way, actually.

“I do. It comes out when somebody is condescending to me. Or screwing me over.”

He laughed. “Gee, I almost got you to swear.”

“I’m glad you’re having such fun, Mr. Winston.”

“Grow up,” he responded dismissively. “If you don’t realize by now that I have you by the bal…
throat
, then you better get out of your ivory tower and get serious. Otherwise, this meeting is a waste of time and Winston Enterprises will be moving to an alternate plan.”

“Dare I hope that involves selling me back my stock?”

“Not quite. It involves getting a director or two on your Board to start with. And then you’re going to see how much trouble a dissident shareholder with as much stock as I have can cause. You may have been a good manager to start with, Miss Beckett. But from now on, I promise you, you’ll be spending half your time answering to me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Winston, for making your bullying tactics abundantly clear. I suspected this would be the case, but I at least wanted to hear what you had to say. Now that I have, I can be prepared for your shareholder eroding tactics and tantrums and can act accordingly. Was there anything else we should discuss?”

Aaron wondered how he had gotten so hostile so fast. Sure, he played hardball, but usually with a little more finesse.

That didn’t shut him up, though. Apparently he was on a roll.

“Well, for the record, since we’re already on such shitty terms—”

Her lashes dipped. “Your vocabulary is so wonderfully varied as well.”

“I’ll just throw in that if you want to fuck while we work this out, I’m more than amenable.”

Uh oh.
He had said that one out loud. Clear as day. He levered himself away from the vending machine and licked his dry lips, waiting for her reaction. It was sort of out of line. He was actually a little ashamed of himself. He was usually more politically correct. He was a lot of things, many of them not so nice, but he’d never been a sexist.

But what the hell? Hard to believe he could go any lower in her estimation. And frankly, as much as she was pissing him off, she was turning him on too. Bizarre.

She didn’t slap him. By her calm reaction, she had expected the worst of him anyway, no matter what he said. Or else she was used to getting propositioned more often than her lofty station would suggest.

“This keeps getting better, Mr. Winston. Is this part of your normal intimidation tactic or are you making a special case for me?”

“Absolutely a special case. I’ve never wanted to fuck one of the CEOs of a company I’m taking over before. It adds a whole new dimension to the experience. But don’t worry, it’s not a one-time offer. Any time you feel the urge to take me up on it, give me a call. In the meantime, think about my other offer.”

“I’d rather die on both fronts, you conceited jerk.”

She stalked out of the room, nearly knocking over Rye who was coming through the doorway.

“What was that all about?” Rye asked him.

“I think I just made your job harder. I really pissed off our target.”

“Aren’t all our targets pissed off—unless they have a golden parachute, that is?”

“After the conversation I just had with Virginia Beckett, I don’t think a platinum parachute would help. We’re going to have to modify our approach in this case.”

“Why? What’d you say to her?”

“I offered to fuck her while she thought about my offer to take over her company.”

Rye pushed his glasses back up, then shrugged. “Wow. That bachelor-of-the-year thing really went to your head.”

* * * * *

Only when Virginia was safely back in the plush blue comfort of her office, the noon autumn sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, could she permit herself to think about what had just happened. Losing her legendary cool was putting it mildly. She was livid. Ever since Aaron Winston had entered her life a few days ago, she’d felt off-balance. Conservative and careful herself, she was baffled by Winston’s erratic behavior. First, threatening to try to take control of BFD and now, this. Insulting her with the oldest way to make a woman feel inferior—implying she was put to best use on her back.