Under His Spell (The Miami Tycoon) (3 page)

“Let me see.” Jill pored over the pages with a furrowed brow. “I think these are earning potential projections for the apartment building Nick’s working on buying. I think he wants to...” Jill’s face suddenly changed, her voice becoming much friendlier and quicker. “Oh, yeah, he wants these faxed to Sunwillow Properties, I remember him saying something about comparing estimates. Here, I’ll get you the number.” Erica had hardly felt more relieved in her life. Jill really did want to help her. Erica decided not to be so stubborn; after all, she was new, and it wasn’t a show of weakness to ask for help. It just meant you wanted to do your job correctly. She was sure she’d get the hang of it soon enough.

After getting the number from Jill and faxing the documents, Erica called buyers with renewed determination. She even decided to re-take a set of photos for the house in Wynwood—the old ones made the place look dingy, and late afternoon was the magic hour in terms of natural lighting. By the time Erica made it back to the office around seven, with the gorgeous new photoset in the memory card of the office DSLR, she was feeling much more optimistic.

The optimism faded rather quickly when George stormed up to her desk, looking incensed and waving the manila folder. “Are you the one who faxed these to Sunwillow?” Erica was bewildered, hadn’t she been asked to do so?

“Um. Yes?” she said, unsure of what her admission would mean. George exploded. “What the hell were you thinking? Sunwillow saw the estimates and raised their offer, Conlon’s decided to sell to them instead! You were supposed to fax these to the investors! Do you realize how much business you’ve just cost us? Maxwell is over at Conlon’s now, trying to get him to reconsider, you better hope—”

Jessica cut George off, leading him gently away from Erica’s desk. “Now, now, George, I’m sure Erica didn’t mean to fax them to Maxwell & Brown’s biggest rival. Did you, Erica? No, you didn’t. Now why don’t you and I go get some of the investors on the phone and see if we can reassure them, George? We’ll have to use our inside voices, though, won’t we...”

Jess led George back to his office, soothing him like he was a fussy toddler. She looked pointedly back at Erica before she guided the furious George through the office door. Erica mouthed thank you at her. She tried to add I’m sorry but Jess had already turned away.

Erica had her head in her hands, attempting to hold back tears of frustration. Fucking Jill! Had she tried to set Erica up, or had she really not known what the papers were? Erica found it hard to believe that Jill would willfully do something so detrimental to the company she worked for, and all to sabotage someone she hardly knew and had no reason to hate. Trying to calm herself down, Erica told herself that Jill couldn’t possibly have been so malicious. She further decided not to tell anyone that Jill had given her the number; it would only make Erica look like she was trying to find a scapegoat for the blame that was rightfully hers. Why hadn’t she just focused on what Maxwell was saying instead of the gorgeous, full mouth he was saying it with? Erica berated herself, promising to quash whatever little crush she had that was making her act so stupidly. As she was doing so, her phone rang.

“Erica?” It was Maxwell. He sounded tired and defeated.

“I’msosorry, Ican’tbelievehowstupidiam—” Erica babbled.

“Erica. Stop. It was just a mistake, I know that. It’s only your second day, don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m not calling to yell at you.”

“Oh,” Erica said, surprised.

“I’m calling about the other thing I was going to have you do today. I wanted you to look over the contract in my office, it’s the one I was going to sign with Conlon. I’m at his office now, and I may or may not be able to get him back on board with us instead of Sunwillow. Anyway, here’s what I need you to do. Just read it over, make sure everything on it is fine. I’m also going to send you the contract that Sunwillow sent Conlon. If you can find anything, anything at all fishy about that one, I want you to fax it back here with your notes, by eleven at the latest. Can you do that?”

“Yes. absolutely. Anything I can do.”

“Okay, great. Just go into my office. Our contract will be on my desk and the Sunwillow one will come through my fax machine any minute now. And Erica?”

“Yes?”

“Deep breaths. It’s all going to work out. Just go through those contracts with a fine-toothed comb and leave the rest to me.”

“Will do.”

“Okay. Goodbye now, Erica.”

“Bye Mr.—Nick.”

“Mr. Nick, huh? Getting closer. We’ll work on it.” He chuckled and hung up.

Erica worked like a woman possessed. The Maxwell & Brown contract was pretty straightforward, written clearly and concretely. Erica saw no loopholes or conspicuous omissions. The Sunwillow contract, though, was a doozy in terms of legalese and confusing organization. She dutifully went through every footnote and sub-subordinate clause, until she found a small paragraph that seemed a little off. After reading few it a few times, Erica was certain that the clause was saying that the buyer, Sunwillow Properties, would be entitled to partial reimbursement should the earning projections be either over- or under- estimated. Erica highlighted the sneaky clause, attached a page explaining the loophole, and faxed it off ten minutes before eleven. She crossed her fingers that it would be enough to change Conlon’s mind.

Erica felt far too wired to just go home, so she went back to her desk and played with the Wynwood photos and online listing. She was really understanding the design quirks of the site when, around midnight, Nick burst in the office.

“We got it! Conlon saw the shady shit Sunwillow was trying to pull and he signed our contract, tonight! The sale will go through tomorrow!” He was beaming, his gorgeous billboard smile at full wattage. “I knew you were going to be a good investment.”

“That’s so great! Now you don’t have to fire me, thank god.” Erica had said it with a smile, but Nick’s face turned suddenly serious. Erica was beginning to notice he had a way of doing that; of turning from levity to gravity in an instant.

“Erica, your job was never on the line. You don’t have to worry about that. I know you’re going to be an asset to this company. Knew it the second you walked through my door.” It made Erica glow to hear him say it.

“Still, though, I’m glad my fuck-up turned out to be fixable. I don’t know if I could’ve shown my face here tomorrow if you hadn’t saved the day,” she said, sheepishly.

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Erica.” He had approached her desk while they talked. Erica stood and drew nearer to him as well, unsure of what she was doing but unable to stop herself. He looked searchingly at her face, deadly serious. “You’re the one that found the loophole in the Sunwillow contract. If it wasn’t for you this sale would’ve dragged on another couple weeks, easy. Couldn’t have done it without you.” It seemed as though his voice had dropped another register; Erica was sure she could feel it resonating in her chest, vibrating her inner ear and making her tingle.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it with you.” Her voice was barely at a whisper. Their faces were inches away.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” A hint of a smile returned to his face.

“Me neither.” Erica looked up at him. It was all she could do not to touch him.

“What were we talking about again?”

“No idea.” As soon as she said it, she put her hands on his waist and pulled him to her. Once she’d made the first move, it was as if a dam broke in him. He picked her up as though she weighed no more than a cat and set her on the edge of the desk, kissing her all the while. Holding his face, she could feel the slightest scratch of stubble under her fingertips—his lips and tongue the textural opposite, slick velvet in her mouth. She fell into the kiss like she was falling into a well; fell into it like you fall asleep—without effort or a conscious choice but still a sudden, intense change of physical and mental state of being.

He pulled away from her mouth, but put his cheek to hers. She could feel his warm breath on her ear. “Erica,” he said, voice hoarse. She felt lightheaded; couldn’t remember if she’d been breathing or not. She reached for his tie and made to unbutton his shirt.

Then came the sound of a door opening and a surprised gasp; Nick and Erica sprang apart as a woman hastily closed the door to the hallway.

“The cleaning crew. I should’ve remembered they were coming.” Nick was only a few feet from her, but Erica felt bereft now that their physical contact was broken. It took her a long moment to come back down to the reality of the situation: she’d just been kissing her new boss, at the dream job for which she’d relocated cities. How many glaring mistakes could a woman make in one day? Apparently a lot, if you were Erica Moore.

She snatched her bag from under her desk and started to run out of the place. “I’m sorry, Mr. Maxwell. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please let’s forget about it. I didn’t mean to...I didn’t mean to.”

“Erica, wait! I’m sorry! Can we talk about this?” Erica was already at the door. She paused, part of her wanting desperately to go back and resume whatever it was that had been happening between them. It required a great deal of her strength to walk through the door and let it shut behind her.

Driving back to Emily’s, Erica went over the night’s events in her mind. He’d kissed her. He liked her. She knew it by the way he kissed, by the way he said her name. He was her boss, though.

Would Erica look down on somebody else who had nearly slept with their boss after their second day of work? Probably. It smacked of trying to sleep your way to the top. Would she do it, given the chance? Probably.

Erica had never begrudged anyone their sexual pleasure or freedoms, but casual sex always seemed like something other people did. She considered her sex drive about average; she enjoyed sex with people she knew and trusted. She neither knew nor trusted her boss, even though he seemed knowable and trustworthy so far. So why was her sex drive spiraling out of control for him?

When Erica walked in the house, Emily was on the couch, watching a show about brides throwing tantrums.

“Come watch this, it’s a trainwreck!” Emily sounded gleeful. She switched gears immediately when she saw Erica’s face. “Aw, Pandy, what happened?”

The old nickname made Erica smile just a little. Emily used to call Erica a panda bear after a night of debauchery; hangovers gave her terrible dark under-eye circles, even as a fresh-faced nineteen-year old.

“Oh Em, I’m such an idiot. So, so stupid. I made out with Maxwell just now at the office.”

“Shut up, no way!” Emily seemed much more pleased about it than Erica expected. “Did anyone see you?”

“No, but... I’m afraid I won’t have a job tomorrow. And also... seriously, he is such a good kisser!” Erica’s tone changed to slumber-party conspiratorial on the last bit.

“Come sit next to me. Tell me everything. I have salty snacks.” Emily held out a bowl of popcorn and chocolate chips, an old favorite of theirs.

Erica, figuring that she couldn’t do anything about her boss or her job security until tomorrow morning, settled in for a hug, a chat, and a healthy dose of schadenfreude from watching the bratty brides on television.

The next morning, Nick was nowhere to be seen. Upon Erica’s arrival at the office, George bombarded her with apologies for his freakout.

When she finally reassured George that there were no hard feelings and made it back to her desk, a voicemail was waiting for her—a woman saying she had seen the new photos on the Wynwood listing and was just dying to get a look at the house. Erica called back and set up a tour before lunch.

The tour went so well that Erica promised to have papers drawn up before the end of the business day. Her first sale! The first thought that floated through her mind after the initial excitement was but it’s not even close to last night’s thrill. She tried to swat the thought away and focus on her professional success, attempting and failing to put that above her romantic interests. Okay, Erica, you can think it, you just cannot act on it.

Her mental sternness evaporated when her phone rang as she drove back to the office. It was Nick.

“Erica? Don’t hang up.”

“Hi, Nick. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. I see you’ve learned my name. So you can be taught!”

“Very funny, Mr. Maxwell.”

“Listen. Would you mind picking up coffee on your way back? I’ll take a latté with an extra shot of espresso. That new place down the block from here is good, even though it’s a little trendy. Bring it by my office?”

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks. See you soon.”

Erica got herself the same order as Nick; she needed the extra espresso after another basically sleepless night. She bumped into Jill on her way back into the office.

“No coffee for me? Just so you know for next time, I like mine black and sweet.” This time there was a definite coolness to Jill’s tone.

“Good to know,” Erica said neutrally. Jill’s eyes narrowed when she saw Erica heading for Maxwell’s door.

Maxwell looked slightly less commanding than usual; if Erica didn’t know him to be incapable of human fallibility, she would’ve thought that he hadn’t slept last night either.

“Ah god, thank you. I really needed some caffeine right now. Or a shot of adrenaline to the heart, but I guess this’ll work. How are you doing?” He smiled at her, a tired version of his famous grin.

“Same. I was thinking about curling up and taking a nap underneath my desk before you suggested the whole coffee thing.”

Nick’s face did that thing again, the sudden seriousness. It was unnerving, but Erica was learning to anticipate his lightning-fast changes of mood.

“Erica. We need to talk about last night. It was very... unprofessional of me. I just want you to know that, well, what I’m trying to say is—” He appeared to be stumbling over the words. It was almost cute to see such a physically powerful man look so stymied and nervous. “I just want you to know that I’d never take advantage of you. I’m not a predator. I just want to be your boss, and for us to have a great professional relationship. If you were thinking of leaving, I just wanted you to know that it’ll never happen again and—”