Picture This (Bryant Brothers Book 4) Read online

  And even as he diligently worked to that end Elliot wondered, What about saving our relationship?

  Chapter Twenty

  Amelia spent the rest of the morning seated on the couch, reaching out to the board of directors. The first call had been awkward, because, as she’d told Elliot, she spoke better when she could move around. She was a pacer, always had been.

  But she made it through, and each subsequent call became easier and easier. But not entirely.

  In about half the instances, she ended up leaving voicemails or messages with admins. The ones she actually spoke to had a variety of responses to her news.

  A couple of them were on her father’s side. Those were his old cronies, and she wasn’t remotely surprised by their stances. They golfed together, smoked cigars together, trash talked their wives and kids together. It was the good ol’ boys club, alive and well. One of them even made a derogatory comment about having a boy as an assistant.

  She’d rolled her eyes and had wanted to say, “Oh trust me, he’s all man.” But if anyone knew she and Elliot slept together, this entire campaign was for naught, because she would lose her job anyway. The rules were clear: fraternizing with a subordinate was grounds for dismissal.

  Although her father never acknowledged it, she was good for his company. She’d proved herself ten times over in the last five years. And she’d come too far to ruin her career over, well, over a guy. Even if that guy was Elliot Bryant.

  “Okay, everyone has been contacted,” Elliot said as he added a few more notes to his spreadsheet. “Now we just wait until those you couldn’t get ahold of call you back. Which means we can take a minute to talk about last night.”

  She swiftly glanced up. “What?”

  “Last night. Well, this morning.” He closed his laptop. “I want to talk about it.”

  She shook her head and forced her own focus back to her computer screen. “Well, I don’t. And since I’m the boss and we’re both on the clock right now, I think it’s best if you work on that project I told you about yesterday.”

  “You’re going to pull the boss card? Really?”

  She heard rustling, and a moment later, he dropped down next to her, so close their thighs were touching. She glanced up, and her heart stuttered. His body was slightly twisted so that his torso faced her, and one arm was draped over the back of the couch, behind her head.

  Unbidden, all those sensations from last night came flooding back. God, she’d loved how he’d taken control. He’d known exactly what she wanted, which had been so amazing because she hadn’t even been sure herself. She’d only known she hadn’t wanted to be in control. And the pleasure, the intensity of the moment, had been worth it. She’d happily turn over the reins to him any time…

  Except there would not be another time. Not if they continued to work together. And it was hardly fair to ask the guy to give up his position just so they could keep sleeping together. He was surprisingly good at being her admin, not to mention all the extra hours he was putting in taking care of her while her leg healed.

  Although he was obviously a natural at photography, he had a mental block when it came to committing himself to making a career out of it. Which meant the next best thing for him was to stay on as her admin.

  Which also meant no more wildly passionate nights with him in her bed. It was a hell of a sacrifice, but it was worth it if he could finally say he’d found a satisfying position that he could commit to long term.

  She placed her palm on his chest and pushed him away. He ceded, allowing her to put needed distance between them. And then she lied through her teeth.

  “Okay, let’s talk about it. Right now, and then we close this chapter and move on with our lives, okay?”

  He narrowed his eyes. She barreled ahead.

  “Last night was awesome. I freely admit that. You were great. We were great together.”

  “But?”

  She sighed. “But that was all it was. Last night. It shouldn’t have happened, although I’m not entirely upset that it did. I know I certainly needed the release.”

  “So it was just a release? A one-night stand.”

  She feigned calm, cool, and collected, like she had so many times over the last five years with her board of directors. “I assume you’re familiar with the concept. You told me you’ve had only one real relationship in your life.”

  His lips thinned. His eyes were stormy. He wanted to lash out, she could tell, and she didn’t blame him one bit. He had clearly not expected last night to be a one-time thing, which should have made her heart sing. Instead, it beat irregularly fast; what she was doing to him was wrong. So very wrong.

  But necessary.

  She touched his knee. “Elliot, you are an amazing person. You’re caring, you’re compassionate; you are going to make some girl extremely happy someday. She is going to feel like a queen every single day. And honestly, I wish I could be that girl. But…” She sucked in a breath. “There’s a policy. I thought it might have been in the sexual harassment training, but apparently not since you don’t seem to be aware of it.”

  “What policy?”

  “If we carry on a personal relationship, I will lose my job.”

  His eyes widened. Nope, he wasn’t aware. “Shit.”

  She frowned. “Yep.”

  He leaned back against the couch cushions, his entire body seeming to deflate. Arrows stabbed at her heart. She hated doing this to him. But she had no choice.

  Her phone vibrated. She glanced at it and then shut down the screen. Her brother was calling again. He’d been reaching out insistently since yesterday, so much so that she’d turned it off while they were at the hospital, and she hadn’t realized it until this morning.

  The doorbell chimed.

  “I’ll get it,” Elliot said, standing and leaving the room. She heard the door open, heard him talking, but she couldn’t make out the words. After a few minutes, he returned, this time sitting on the chair instead of next to her on the couch. She understood, although it admittedly hurt.

  “Who was it?” she asked, even though she could guess, and she was grateful that he’d sent the person packing.

  “Your brother again. Says you won’t answer his calls.”

  She shook her head. “Why should I? Besides, he’ll get me riled up and then could use those calls against me at the meeting tomorrow.”

  “Smart of you to avoid him.”

  “Thanks for helping in that respect.”

  They were a good team. She was actually beginning to feel hope that they might win at tomorrow’s meeting. And if they did, she didn’t want to carry on at that company without Elliot by her side. He was such an asset; he was already invaluable to her.

  He pushed off the chair again. “I’m hungry. Want something to eat?”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  There was still a trace of tension in the air, but it was dissipating, slowly. Elliot understood the position she was in, which she appreciated more than she was able to express.

  By tomorrow, she bet everything would be fine between them. They would be a united front, heading into that meeting.

  And they might just succeed.

  ***

  Two nights in a row of not sleeping were dragging on Amelia. This wasn’t good, because she needed to be in tip-top form for the board meeting, which started in four hours.

  She could smell coffee brewing. Elliot was already up and about. She was going to miss his constant presence once she was well enough and he could move out. At least she would still see him every day at the office.

  Experimentally, she tried to straighten her bruised knee. It was painful, but it was definitely gaining mobility. She scooted to the side of the bed and tentatively tried to put weight on it.

  Nope, still couldn’t do that.

  Snagging the crutches, she used them to get her across the room to the bathroom. After peeing and brushing her teeth, she contemplated going downstairs for coffee. She could really use a cup to cle
ar away the cobwebs in her head. But she also knew Elliot would lecture her about taking precautions to ensure her knee healed properly and swiftly, and he was right. So she ran a bath instead.

  She was in the middle of washing her hair when she heard the door open. “Cup of coffee here on the counter,” Elliot said. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, and I’ll come carry you downstairs.” And then he was gone.

  She blew out a breath. She was so lucky he was in her life. Too bad…but no, no point in even thinking it. Rules were rules, and they’d both worked too hard to throw it all away now.

  She dressed in a dark red suit with a skirt that fell just below the knee. It should hide the bruising until she was seated, and then her legs would be tucked under the conference table. They would all know she was injured because she would have to use the crutches to walk into the room, but she had no interest in calling any more attention to the injury than was necessary.

  Twisting her hair into a chignon at the base of her neck, she resisted the urge to pull a few strands out to let them curl around her face, which always softened the look. Today, she needed to appear severe.

  Or maybe not. Maybe the suit was enough. She wanted them to believe she was competent, not a dictator.

  She tugged on the strands, letting a few twist down to brush her shoulders.

  A simple string of pearls and matching earrings completed the look. She’d have to wear flats, but there was nothing to be done about that.

  She was ready, so she texted Elliot.

  He appeared in the doorway a few moments later, his gaze skating over her from head to toe. “You look powerful. Strong. Resilient.”

  “Thanks.” They were all compliments, really nice—and appropriate for the situation—but she’d wanted him to say “beautiful” and was oddly disappointed that he hadn’t.

  He lifted her into his arms, careful not to wrinkle her suit, and while on the surface it was exactly the same way he’d carried her multiple times over the course of the last few days, today, it felt different. Colder. Distant.

  Which should make her happy, since he was acting exactly as she wanted him to. Like they were strictly co-workers.

  “Thank you,” she said when he placed her on a barstool at the counter, a plate of food already sitting there.

  “I’ll go grab your crutches and coffee mug.” And then he left the room.

  She glanced around. He’d already cleaned up, and there wasn’t a second plate. Either he’d already eaten or wasn’t hungry. Or maybe he was taking this whole co-workers only relationship a bit too extreme.

  But that was okay, right? They’d relax, eventually. Maybe even become friends. She’d like that. He was a great guy, and she’d hate to think that their only interactions would be during work hours.

  After breakfast, she checked her email. She’d heard back from all but two board members, and based on the conversations she’d had, the odds were definitely in her favor. Even if those two sided with her father, she should still win this battle.

  But she refused to be overly confident. She knew better than anyone what a wily businessman Walter Gerard was. When he wanted something done, he resorted to any means necessary to make it happen.

  While, technically, he hadn’t succeeded in getting Duane to take over the business five years ago, he obviously had not given up on that goal. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be attending this meeting today. Which meant she needed to be fully on guard.

  Maybe she should have taken Duane’s calls. It would have been a difficult conversation, but at least she’d be aware of whatever he planned to pull today and could have prepared, especially emotionally. While she rarely acted sentimental when at the office, she was most definitely attached to the place. She wanted it to be successful, wanted the employees to be happy. Wanted to be satisfied with a job well done at the end of each day.

  “You’re getting into your own head again,” Elliot remarked.

  She glanced up from the laptop. He stood before her, dressed in a dark gray suit with a paler gray shirt and a bright blue tie. The material clung to his shoulders and fit his form like it was tailor-made, and the first word to pop into her mind was “sexy.”

  Which, of course, she couldn’t say, so she swallowed it down and whispered, “You look very…nice.”

  He twisted from side to side, pretending he was modeling. “Strong? Sophisticated? Resilient?”

  She laughed, grateful that he could make her do so at a time like this. “Yes, exactly.”

  “Okay, you want to head over to the office now or wait until the last minute?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’d go now. No one has seen you since Monday. That and the crutches are going to cause a stir. Let them get it out of their systems before the board members start showing up.”

  “Good idea.” Thank God she had him by her side.

  ***

  As soon as they stepped into the lobby of the mostly glass structure, the security guard—the same one who, too many times to count, had let her run into the large potted palm while she’d been distracted by her phone—leaped out of his seat and hurried toward them.

  “Amelia, what happened?”

  “I bruised my knee pretty badly, unfortunately.”

  “Is that why you haven’t been here all week?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been working from home.”

  He nodded and leaned closer, like he was about to divulge a secret. “Are you aware that Chelsea’s been sitting in your office?”

  “What? No. I had no idea. Why?”

  He shrugged. “No idea. But she’s been strutting around here like a peacock, too. A little too confident, if you ask me.”

  Amelia glanced at Elliot, as if he’d have any clue what was going on. He’d been with her the entire time, not to mention he hadn’t been around long enough to be embroiled in office politics.

  “I guess I’d better get up there and figure out what’s going on. Thanks for the warning, George.”

  He nodded and headed back to his desk. “Watch out for the plant.”

  She almost chuckled. When they stepped into the elevator, Elliot was biting his lip. As soon as the doors swept shut, they both gave in and laughed.

  When they arrived on the floor where her office was located, they did, in fact, cause the stir Elliot had predicted. Sarah nearly dropped her cup of coffee as her eyes widened to the size of saucers.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “A bad bruise. I’m fine, other than not being very mobile at the moment.”

  “Why are you in the office today if you can’t walk?”

  “The board meeting.”

  “I thought it got moved?”

  “Walter”—she always called him Walter when talking to the staff—“added another one for today. Very last minute.”

  Sarah wrinkled her nose. “I hope there’s a conference room available.”

  That would actually be amusing if there wasn’t. Amelia’s very competent admin had secured a room for the meeting she’d rescheduled for two weeks from now. He’d ordered lunch, too.

  Had Walter done the same for today?

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Were you aware that Chelsea has been sitting in your office all week?”

  Sarah was a lovely employee; however, until today, she’d always been fearful and skittish around Amelia. Had this injury convinced the woman that she wasn’t a scary, unapproachable boss?

  “I wasn’t until a few minutes ago. I suppose I should go find out why.”

  “Oh, right.” Sarah stepped out of her path and then waved at Elliot. “Did you get the job?”

  He gave her a bland smile. “I did.”

  She nodded, waved again, and then continued down the hall.

  “Okay,” Amelia said. “Let’s go find out what’s going on.”

  All the executive offices had glass walls. When someone was awarded an office, they were given the option of frosting the glass
to allow themselves a small modicum of privacy. Some didn’t care, while others had the walls and door completely frosted. Most fell somewhere in between with a little frosting so that they weren’t in a fishbowl while sitting at their desks.

  The frosting on the wall and door to Amelia’s office extended about four feet from the floor. Enough that one couldn’t see who was sitting behind the desk—or on it, as it were.

  She pushed open the door and was greeted by the sight of her friend, seated in her favorite aerodynamic office chair, while her father perched on the corner of the desk.

  Chelsea’s hand was gently caressing Amelia’s father’s thigh.

  They both jerked up their heads when Elliot held the door open so she could step inside.

  Chelsea didn’t move her hand.

  Walter flicked it off like it was an annoying bug, then stood and turned to face Amelia, his gaze focusing on the crutches.

  She stared at him, but when he refused to look her in the eye, she shifted her gaze to Chelsea, who lifted her chin and folded her arms across her chest. She had straightened her hair and was wearing a form-fitting, sleeveless sheath dress that honestly was better suited for an evening at the club.

  That’s when it finally clicked. Amelia whipped her gaze back to her father.

  “Are you having an affair with Chelsea?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Chelsea, leave us alone,” Walter Gerard—Elliot didn’t need an introduction to know that this was Amelia’s father—commanded without looking at the woman. He finally tore his gaze away from the crutches to glance up at Elliot. “Who are you?”

  He didn’t bother offering to shake the guy’s hand. “Elliot Bryant. Amelia’s admin.”

  Chelsea stood and strutted toward him, hips swaying almost comically. What was she up to, flirting with Amelia’s father? If Amelia couldn’t have a relationship with Elliot because of HR policies, surely neither could Chelsea with a member of the board. One who was her friend’s father. The freaking founder of the company.