Now, Please:Please Series #2By: Willow Summers
Please Series #2
I walked into Hunter Carlisle’s office on Monday morning as a sexual equal. I was flying by the seat of my pants, not regulated by a personal contract. Hunter was trusting me. More importantly, he had allowed himself to open up just a crack and let me wiggle in. It was a huge milestone in his life and I was grabbing it by the horns and hanging on.
He was sitting at his desk with the soft light of the morning spilling over his broad shoulders. My breath caught in my throat for just a moment before tingling overcame my body.
The man was gorgeous, and I thanked God that he had come to his senses. Otherwise I’d have to start stalking him. I still might, just for the thrill.
“Hey,” I said, putting his coffee on the corner of the desk just as I had every working day for the last month. He glanced up at my voice. His hooded, smoldering eyes reminding me of twisted sheets and writhing bodies. I gulped, a little too loudly. “Uh, I have some things to go over concerning my salary…when you’re ready.”
He glanced at the clock at the top of his desk before leaning back. “You know my schedule—when do I have time?”
“Now, or at the end of the day. That’s pretty much it.”
Hunter clasped his hands in his lap as he studied me. His gaze slid down my body before nodding. “I have other plans for you this evening. Sit.”
My stomach flip-flopped. The expectation of what he had planned gave me a hot flash. I sat gingerly and tried to ignore the pounding in my core. I handed over my folder.
Hunter took it without a word, opened it, and glanced at the contents. He laid the folder on his desk. “I know what kind of work you do, Olivia. What kind of figures do you have in mind?”
I took a deep breath. I’d thought pretty hard about this. Realistically, I was getting paid six figures to do a job worth half that, while having sex with the hottest man alive. I would do the last for free, so really, I was way overpaid.
I couldn’t very well tell Hunter that, though. He was a business prodigy the CEO of a huge, global company without even seeing thirty candles. He expected me to shoot high, and then barter hard.
I leaned forward and opened my mouth to spout out a ridiculous number when the phone rang. Hunter glanced at the display, then ripped the handset off the base. “Yes?”
I slowly closed my mouth and leaned back. The man could ignore a grenade blast if he had business to attend to.
“When is this?” Hunter asked with a sharp edge to his voice. He listened for a moment, checked his watch, and then clenched his jaw. “Who else will be there?” After another moment, he finished, “Get me booked in. Rearrange my schedule and move any meetings I can’t miss to online. I need to be there.”
He was about to put the phone back in the cradle when he paused. His eyes flicked to me. “Yes, she’s going.”
He set the phone down. “Negotiations will have to wait. The board has given me a limited time to secure a takeover. If I fail, which they hope I will, we’ll go ahead with a merger. Donnelley—the owner and CEO of the prospective company…”
He waited for my nod before continuing, “He’s attending a business summit at a resort in Nevada. This means he’s shopping around for a buyer. He knows what his company is worth—or, more frankly, what its tech rights are worth—and he’s ready to offload. He can’t handle the size the company has grown to, so he’s ready to cash out.”
“Well…that’s great, huh?” I asked, trying desperately to care. My brain was still lost on what he had planned for later that night.
“Yes, but he doesn’t like me. He won’t want to sell to me if there’s any way of avoiding it.”
“Are there other companies willing to offer him as much as you?”
“A few.” Hunter swiveled in his chair so he could gaze out the window. “My father’s company, for one.”
Intense loathing colored Hunter’s voice. Saying he and his father didn’t get along was putting it mildly. His dad was the root of Hunter’s current distrust of others, distance from intimacy, and desire to be alone.
I was dying to know what had happened, but Hunter was an isolated, closed-off man. Getting at his depths would need the Jaws of Life.