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Authors: Z.L. Arkadie

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BOOK: He's So Bad
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I chuckle. She’s quick. I like that. “When did you become what you are?” Shit, I wish I could take that back.

Carter’s face turns red again. I’ve embarrassed her. We smile at each other and allow the awkward moment to pass.

“Regarding work…” I say.

We laugh.

“I want to use your talents on our key projects.”

She starts eating again. “Define key projects?”

I nod, impressed by her question. “There are a handful of clients who will keep us afloat no matter what. I’ve read their completed project reports. There’s a sixty-five percent satisfactory rate.”

She stops before putting a helping of one of the chicken dishes into her mouth. “Wow, that low? Was I an architect on any of the projects?”

“Not one of them.”

“That’s a relief.” She plops the food into her mouth.

I watch her lips as she chews, then I blink myself back to the moment. “But if you were the architect for all the projects, then the clients would’ve been satisfied. Not only are you a talented drafter, but you’re a thorough project manager.”

“That’s because I don’t have a social life.” Carter chuckles.

“A woman who rides a motorcycle has no social life? Sounds like an oxymoron.”

“Most contradictions are not contradictions.”

“I beg to differ,” I say.

She tilts her head in a challenging way.

“Hot contradicts cold. Night contradicts day. Good contradicts evil. And in all of those cases, the line that sets the two apart is clear and concise.”

Her eyes shine as she grins. “Then I stand corrected.”

Our gazes linger on each other. I had no idea she would have this sort of effect on me. It’s different and surprising. In order to excise the sexual chemistry brewing between us, I pick up the conversation about work and where I see her talents being used in current and future projects. Carter listens attentively and asks all the right questions. We eat and talk, and occasionally fall into lingering stares. Fuck, I’m falling for this woman, who just happens to be Vince’s cousin, and I don’t want to stop.

On the way back to the office, I ask Carter how she used to spend her days in Sag Harbor when we all were there. I only remember seeing her at the breakfast table, because Vince and I learned that if we made it to breakfast each morning, then his mother wouldn’t question what we did the night before or what we had planned for the day. We were fifteen years old and most of the time drunk as hell, but nobody but Vince’s sisters, Allie and Madison, could tell.

“I mostly rode around on my bike looking at everything.”

“Everything? Like what?”

“I went out in search of construction sites mostly. I’ve always been fascinated by the ground-up process of an edifice. I would walk through the bare bones of a house and try to figure out where all the rooms should go.” She smiles reflectively. “I know it sounds nerdish, but it’s the truth.”

“That doesn’t sound nerdish. I wish you had told me. I would’ve gone with you.”

She laughs. “Oh, is that so?”

I grin at her as I pull into the executive’s parking stall. “In hindsight, I would’ve.”

The warm smile we share seems so natural.

“I still do it,” she says.

We haven’t broken eye contact.

“Do what?”

“On the weekends, I look for new construction and roam the grounds.”

“You do?”

She nods. “Yeah, I do.”

“I’d like to go with you sometime. Do you mind?”

Carter’s smile fades. “Um, no, I don’t mind.”

There’s a knock on my window, and Carter and I look to see who’s there. Grace steps back and folds her arms in front of her. I’m already dreading interacting with her. Two more months, then she’s out of my hair.

Carter gets out of the car before I can turn toward her. When I open my door to get out, Carter’s already walking down the ramp. I’m still baffled about why she doesn’t use the elevator or stairs.

“I’ve been looking for you. Zoe said you went to lunch two hours ago.”

I shake the confusion out of my head. “Sorry, but when did I start needing to check in with you?”

“You don’t, but you’re running a business here, and not so you can fraternize with the help.”

“What the fuck do you want, Grace?” I’m this close to reneging on my word and putting her ass out of my company now.

She grunts huffily. “I need you to accompany me tonight.”

“Accompany you where?”

“To an event.”

I tilt my head. “Give me a straight answer. What the hell do you do around here?”

“I’ve done everything.”

I slam my door. “Is there a job title for
everything
?” I stomp toward the elevator, and I hear her heels clicking behind me. “Well, if you’re going to work in my company, then we’re going to find you a job title, and you’re going to stick to it.”

I’m being rude as hell, but Grace brings out the jerk in me.

She jumps ahead of me and puts her hand over the down button. “How dare you?”

The door opens, and two people exit. I enter the elevator. Grace enters too since she’s not finished gabbing.

“And why are you having dinners and shit in the first place?” I ask.

“Why are you going to lunch with Carter?”

“It’s none of your business. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Or did you even go to lunch? Did you take her to your hotel room and fuck her?”

My frown is so severe that I feel as if my face will cave in. “What do you want, Grace?” I enunciate each word.

“I said that I want you to go to an event with me.”

“What’s the event?”

“The Annual Soiree at City Hall,” she says.

“Why do I need to be there?”

“Because everyone we need to work with to get shit done in this city will be there.”

I ruffle my eyebrows. The elevator door opens, and I get out.

Grace stays in and puts her hand in the doorway. “Meet me in the lobby of that hotel you’re staying in at eight thirty tonight. Don’t be late. Wear a black suit with a black tie. I would say not a cheap suit, but you haven’t worn anything inexpensive since you waltzed into my father’s office asking to buy his company.” She takes her hand out of the doorway. “Tonight, you’re going to see what I do.” Her tone is bitter. Apparently, she’s not only offended me, but I’ve offended her as well.

I make it back to the office, and Carter is at her desk, working. She doesn’t look in my direction as I pass her door and head to my office. I feel as if I’m caught in the calm before a storm. I push down the giddy sensation I get in my stomach when I remember today’s lunch, and I get to work.

I meet with Account Acquisitions and listen to each project they want to place a bid for. They tell me about the solicitations from private individuals, non-profits, and businesses who want to use our services. The majority of the solicitations are from non-profits. Ralph was big on signing onto free projects, but I’m not. I end that meeting three hours later and start another one.

The office starts to thin out around six, but I’ve been so busy that I forgot to look in on Carter. When I finally look toward her desk, it’s clean and she’s gone. I look at the other side of the room where Matt sits. He’s gone too. Shit, I’m jealous, and not in the way I’ve been toward Vince. This is different. This is something that I can’t explain.

Principals

I
take
the elevator down to the hotel lobby. Grace is already there, sitting on one of the sofas and looking at her cell phone. She’s wearing another tight bright red dress. Some guy almost trips over his own feet while staring at her. She’s certainly beautiful, and I’m normally drawn to bitches, but for some reason, she doesn’t do it for me. If I hadn’t been drawn to Carter upon first glance, I wonder if I would be boning Grace right now. The thought makes my stomach turn.

Grace stands once I reach her. “You’re on time.”

“I’ve been punctual ever since I took over the helm.”

“Well…” She straightens my collar, and I fight the urge to recoil. “I heard punctuality wasn’t your style.”

I guide her hands away from my collar. “And who told you that?”

“Does it matter?”

I shrug. “No.”

She snorts facetiously. “I didn’t think so. The limo is waiting for us.” She holds out her elbow. “Be a gentleman.”

I take her arm, and we walk side by side out of the lobby and to the limo. I sit as far away from her as possible. Grace starts sending texts as soon as the car moves. It’s a relief to not have to chitchat with her.

“So what’s going on between you and Carter?”

I’m caught off guard. “Didn’t you ask that already?”

“And you didn’t answer.”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

She finally looks up from her phone. “You should watch out for her. She likes—attention.”

I recall the funny, sexy, down-to-earth young woman, who spends her weekends hunting for construction sites, that I had lunch with today. There’s no way Carter is the kind of woman who needs to be seen. “Duly noted.”

She slips her phone inside of her purse. “Is that so?”

“Is your problem with her or me?”

“Who says I have a problem?”

I grunt. “Listen, I took my best architect to lunch to discuss the sorts of projects she’ll be working on in the future.”

“Ha! Carter is not your best architect.”

“And you determined this how?”

She rolls her eyes and looks out the window.

I study her for a moment. “You’re jealous of her. Why? She’s an architect, and you’re daddy’s little girl. You’re both attractive in your own ways. Believe me, there are enough men to go around.”

She sniffs bitterly. “I’m not daddy’s little girl. Get that through your fucking head.”

Whoa. I hit a nerve. “No need to get pissy. You started it.”

“I started it? How old are we?”

I let out a longwinded sigh. She’s driving me nuts, and I want her antagonism to stop. I extend my hand. “Let’s call a truce.”

She hesitates but shakes my hand. Her palm is wet. My palm is dry.

“So what’s this night all about?” I ask.

“Every single person who needs special attention so that we can get shit done will be in the room tonight. I have a relationship with each one of them. I know you’ve been wondering why my father wants you to keep me around. You’re about to find out.”

Politics. Vince has always been better at it than me. I respect the man who works hard to be the best, not some slimy-ass individual who relies on cronyism to get ahead. I can’t scratch backs, and I sure as hell don’t want mine scratched.

Grace talks about all the people she plans to introduce me to tonight. I’m certainly intrigued.

City Hall is an ostentatious building on the outskirts of downtown. Its gothic dome is lit up, which makes the structure appear as if it’s a relic from Europe’s past. The original City Hall, which was just as overworked design-wise, collapsed during the 1906 earthquake. This one was built in 1915. What’s funny is the original structure collapsed because of cronyism and back scratching, which is why we’re here tonight.

The limo stops behind a line of other limos. I want to get out of the car where we’re stopped, but Grace, who’s back to sending text messages, holds up her hand, shakes her head, and says, “Be patient.”

It takes nearly forty-five minutes for us to get our red-carpet exit. The driver opens the door for us. We get out of the vehicle, and cameras flash.

“Mr. Tango, over here,” a photographer shouts.

All of a sudden, my name is being called by so many men with cameras that I can’t count them.

“What the hell is going on? Why the fuck do they know who I am?” I say to Grace.

“I sent out a press release,” she says through a pasted-on smile.

My name is still being called, and I don’t like the sound of it. This shit just got real. I keep my face forward. I’ve never been the type to play to the cameras. The last time these fuckers were interested in me, I was fucking a crazy royal chick from England. They pinned me as the bad-boy businessman from America and said that I gave that maniac chick a venereal disease. I would have never fucked her without a condom. I don’t even know why I fucked her in the first place. I think I went on a binge and was high for the whole month we were together—but not too stoned to forget to wear a condom. I knew her reputation.

Grace keeps up the fake smile. “Look into those cameras and smile your ass off.”

“This is your game, not mine.” I continue to face forward.

“Fuck you, Tango.”

“You’re not my type,” I say, but I wish I could take the words back just as fast as I say them.

Grace and I enter the grand doorway. She’s silent as we weave through the crowd, still arm-in-arm on our way to the ballroom.

“Listen, I didn’t mean that. That was immature of me,” I whisper in her ear.

“I don’t want to fuck you either, Tango. But what I’m doing is protecting my father’s legacy, so when I say smile at the cameras, you fucking smile at the cameras,” she says past her pasted-on smile.

“All right.” I paste on my own smile and turn toward the cameras. The bulbs flash.

Grace winks at me. It’s apparent that she loves being in charge.

I’m shaking hands and saying the same shit over and over. I’m the new owner of Kennedy Creative. I’ve been in the media industry for the last eight years. Then I listen to the other person discreetly tell me what they expect from me. We arrive at our fifth councilman—Gerald Bush. I’m amused by how he chuckles after everything he says. There are two reasons why a person does that. Either they’re nervous or they lie a lot. I suspect in his case, it’s the latter.

“Ralph Kennedy revered the antiquity of San Francisco,” he says and chuckles.

I’ve noticed that his chuckles linger until Grace or I start speaking.

“I’m more of a modern man,” I say. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking about making Kennedy Creative a contemporary modern firm.”

Grace chastises me with a look.

Gerald Bush chuckles. “Well, contrary to the technical gold rush, Mr. Tango, San Francisco remains a city given to nostalgia.”

Grace opens her mouth to speak.

“Call me Robert,” I say, cutting her off. “So, Gerald”—I lean in close—“do you live in the district you represent—full-time?”

“Oh yes!” He laughs.

“Is that so? I’m sure you have more than one house in the city, don’t you?” I tilt my head, a gesture that warns him to not lie to me.

“Oh yes, I invest in the right properties.” He chuckles again.

I snort cynically. “Got you.”

Grace’s nimble fingers dig into my shoulder. “Anyway, we’re looking forward to attending the Fall Ball this year. We’ll purchase the same number of seats as usual.” She looks at me for consensus.

I take too long to respond, and her expression transforms into a grimace.

“Well, we’ll hold the spots for you,” Gerald says. He extends his hand for a final handshake.

I oblige him. “Nice meeting you.”

“The pleasure was mine.” There’s the laugh again.

As soon as he’s a safe distance away, Grace tugs on my arm. “What in the hell was that?”

I curl my arm around her waist and put my mouth to her ear. “Listen, I know what’s important to that fucker, and it’s not nostalgia or his Fall Ball. If I need that parasite, then I’ll buy him.”

Grace’s mouth drops open in shock.

“Listen, I appreciate what you came here to do. I want you to keep doing it, but I’ve allocated over a billion dollars of capital to this company. You can buy his ten-thousand-dollars-a-plate meals and kiss his ass, but that gives him the potential to say no whenever he fucking feels like it.”

Grace grunts as if she wants to negate everything I just said but then thinks better of it.

I sweep the scope of the floor with my hand. “I do appreciate the tour, but this shit only gets you so far.”

“Grace?” a man says.

Grace and I turn to look behind us. A guy about my age stands there in a suit.

Grace flinches as if she’s surprised to see him. “Tyler? What are you doing here?”

Tyler watches me as though if he looks hard enough, he’ll find all the answers he seeks. “The same thing you’re doing here.”

Grace and Tyler hug each other loosely. I’m not an intuitive man, but even I can sense the tension between them.

He extends his hand to me. “You must be the new Ralph of Kennedy Creative.”

I shake his hand. “Robert Tango.”

“I know. Nice to meet you. Tyler Penso.”

I grimace. The name sounds familiar. “You were a principal architect for Kennedy Creative?”

He throws up his hands. “You caught me.”

“Right…” I glance at Grace.

She looks as if she swallowed a canary.

“You did good work,” I say.

“You looked through my projects folder?”

“I’m thorough.” I’m like a shark that smells blood. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”

He’s obviously trying to fight the urge to smile. “Is that so?”

“You’re a great talent. I’m sure Ralph had to let you go because he couldn’t afford you but—”

“That’s not why I was let go,” he says, glaring at Grace.

Grace starts to say something, but her voice cracks. She clears her throat and tries again. “I’m glad you landed back on your feet.”

“Right. How’s Carter?” His tone is bitter.

Curiosity shoots through me like bolts of lightning. Grace glances nervously at me. She’s fucking hiding something.

“Carter’s doing fine,” I say.

He and I lock eyes, and it’s as if I’m looking through a mirror that can see past the image. He’s in love with Carter, and I’m intrigued by her. I think about reneging on my plan to ask him back, but I’m not the sort of man who shuns a challenge.

“Carter’s now one of our principal architects,” I say.

“Oh.” He looks at Grace. “I take it you didn’t have anything to do with her promotion.”

Grace glares at him. Now I see what’s going on. Grace is definitely the one who’s been holding Carter back. She’s jealous. If I think ill of her for it, that would be like me calling the tea kettle black.

“A firm is only as good as its talent,” I say, choosing not to rub salt over Grace’s wound. “I was hoping to convince you to return to Kennedy Creative.”

He grunts, sounding intrigued. “Then I’ll be expecting that call.”

“Definitely.”

Tyler and I shake hands again.

“Grace,” he says, his tone cold.

Grace’s lips are clenched tightly as she nods.

“No,” she says once he’s gone.

“No what?” I ask.

“He can’t come back.”

“That’s not your call. And what in the hell is going on between the two of you?”

She shakes her head. “We’ll discuss this further tomorrow.”

She’s so tightly wound that I choose not to have this argument with her. We continue making our way through the room, shaking hands and promising city planners, council members, and chief administrators that I’m willing to go with the program. But Grace isn’t the same after our run-in with Tyler. I still wonder what the hell is going on between them, but I figure I’ll get my answers in due time.

I
’m
up the next morning before my alarm sounds. I’ve never been this excited to rise and shine and get to the job. As soon as I make it to the office and sit at my desk, I’m in go mode. My first order of business is to have Zoe call Tyler and schedule an interview. In less than fifteen minutes, he’s scheduled to come in this Friday.

Grace walks into my office without being asked to come in. “About Tyler—he should not be part of my father’s company.”

I sit back in my chair and rest my chin on the steeple I make with my fingers. “Why not?”

She closes the door and sits across from me. “He insulted my father.”

“How did he insult your father?”

“My father likes manners, and Tyler will insult you too if you bring him back.”

I sigh hard and shake my head. “Do you really think I’m a stupid asshole who can’t read between the lines? Have you two fucked or something?”

Grace shoots to her feet. “Forget it. Do what you have to do, and I’ll do the same.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“Take it however you want to take it.”

“Then I won’t take it as a threat because you can’t threaten me.”

Grace stomps out of my office, and as they say, out of sight, out of mind.

As the week progresses, I finalize my contract with Ralph and keep rejuvenating his failing empire. I work day and night. Carter and I make eye contact every now and then, but there’s no time for me to try to make skin-on-skin contact happen between us. By Friday, I’m wiped but ready for my sit-down with Tyler. After reviewing his old projects again, I’m willing to pay whatever it costs to have him back in our stable.

I stand in the doorway of my office when he stops at the main entrance and scans the entire floor. Carter, who’s at Matt’s desk, watches him in shock as he walks down the aisle. Then she looks at me with a question in her eyes.

Tyler and I shake hands. The firmness of his grip says he’s here to deal and be victorious. I match his grip because I mean to do the same.

“Glad you could make it,” I say.

“Always willing to entertain an offer. Although my current firm has already rewarded me for my talent,” he says.

I make a mental note—he’s cocky. I ask him to have a seat. Carter stares into my office as she crosses the aisle to return to her desk.

“Talent should be rewarded,” I say. “But if we can’t afford you, then I understand. After all, talented people are a dime a dozen, and I don’t mind going fishing for them.”

BOOK: He's So Bad
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