Taming the Takeover Tycoon. Robyn Grady
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“You’re not afraid of being hit by a grenade,” he said, “or ambushed by gunfire? That’s why you waited outside this morning, isn’t it? You wanted to keep this arrangement and the questions as quiet as possible.”
Her step almost faltered. “I told you why I met you downstairs.”
“You’re not worried some people might think you’re getting too friendly with the foe?”
“If I was worried about my reputation, I wouldn’t invite you back, now, would I?” Sliding her arm away from his, she turned his assumption on its head. “Maybe it’s you who’s afraid to front up at Lassiter Media.”
His slanted grin oozed sex appeal. “Yeah,” he said. “That must be it.”
As they entered the parking lot, Becca took stock. She’d decided to ease back on the info dump, and she’d got rattled at the idea of her loyalties ever being questioned, but she still needed to keep the dialogue open and evolving. She had to keep Jack close. So, big breath and moving on.
“Now that’s settled,” she said, walking alongside of him, “are we on for coffee?”
“If Danishes are involved.”
“You’re a fan?”
“Can you spell cheese, blueberry, apple toffee?”
Suddenly Becca could taste all her favorites. “How about cinnamon or custard?”
“Now you’re talking.”
“With my family owning a bakery, there was lots of cake growing up. Too much.”
He gave her an odd look and then smiled. “You can never have too much cake.”
Becca could have argued. She also wanted to know what that strange look was about. Instead she smiled as he opened the car door for her. If she let him in a little more, maybe he would open up to her, too. And then surely light and a sprinkling of goodness would fall among the shadows. Even where blackhearted Jack Reed was concerned.
* * *
Jack parked in a space outside of the Lassiter Media Building. After switching off the ignition, he lifted his chin to loosen his tie. He was serious about needing a coffee—extra strong. At each turn this morning, he’d been taken off guard.
Firstly, he was sure Sylvia had said that Becca had been a foster kid. Was she lying about the bakery? Something hinky was going on there.
Second, he, too, was a benefactor of Ride for U.S. When Tom Layton had spotted him and Becca in the bleachers together, Jack had seen speculation flare in the younger man’s eyes. It wasn’t a reach to think Tom had wondered whether he and Becca had partnered up in some charity-minded capacity. So, before Tom had the chance to wander over and all kinds of questions were asked, Jack had made an excuse and had “bumped” into him. Then, on the quiet, he’d let Tom know nothing had changed. No one needed to know who Reed Incorporated gave to, when, how or particularly why—unless it was the taxman.
If Becca wanted to stand behind general consensus and believe his character was a step away from sludge, Jack was used to being pegged as a villain. Hell, wearing that label where Becca was concerned was probably best. When the Lassiter deal went his way and the ax began to fall all around her, she might be hurt but at least she wouldn’t be surprised.
On the upside, he had heard everything she’d said about problems facing young adults. Depression, self-harm, suicide...he wished he could wave a wand and all the damage—past, present and future—would be fixed.
Becca got out of the car before Jack had a chance to swing around and open her door.
“Will we personally choose our Danishes?” she asked over the roof of the car. “Or should we have them delivered?”
On the way back from the school, she’d mentioned a good bakery near the office.
“We’ll go have a look,” he said.
“Cheese, blueberry and apple toffee, right?”
Slipping on sunglasses, he met her at the trunk. “And cinnamon and custard.”
She laughed, an effervescent, sexy sound that suited her far better than a scowl. “Just how much can you eat? Or am I buying for the whole office?”
“I’m buying,” he said. “Might as well throw in a couple of chocolate chip muffins while we’re at it.”
“Now that’s getting dangerous.” They headed off toward the mall via the building’s entrance. “And it’s my treat. No argument. You’re my guest.” She playfully eyed him up and down. “A guest with a very big appetite.”
“And growing by the minute.”
Her smile changed in a knowing, measured way at the same time her gaze flicked to his mouth. Every one of Jack’s extremities began to tingle.
Maybe she’s the one doing the seducing.
Earlier, he had scoffed at Sylvia’s suggestion, but the idea of Becca Stevens as calculating seductress out to save the world wasn’t so far-fetched. Would she think that flirting, or even sleeping with him, might gain her information...curry favor...change his mind? After the kiss they had shared, he knew her hormones wouldn’t object even if her conscience did.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw a woman emerge from the building’s main entrance. The slender build, dark brown hair and matching eyes were unmistakable. Angelica Lassiter was so absorbed in her thoughts, she almost ran into them without noticing. Recognizing Jack first, she sagged and let out a ragged sigh.
“Thank God. How did you know I’d be here?” she asked. Then she saw Becca.
Angelica was strong-willed, like her dad. But right now, with those dark-brown eyes wide and questioning, she looked as if she was teetering on an edge.
Jack spoke to Becca first. “Can we do this later?”
She said, “Of course,” before offering Angelica an awkward goodbye. As Becca moved inside the building, Jack looped his arm through Angelica’s.
“C’mon. Let’s walk.”
“What are you doing with Becca Stevens?” Angelica asked as Jack ushered her away from the Lassiter Media Building and down the busy boulevard sidewalk.
“Becca’s worried about the foundation’s future,” he said.
Angelica nodded deeply. “She does a brilliant job there. Her heart is totally in the right place. But, Jack, don’t think for a minute she’s on our side. She doesn’t like you. Given our association, I’m sure she doesn’t like me much at the moment, either.”
Angelica could easily have grown up a spoiled pain. She’d come along later in Ellie Lassiter’s life, after J.D. and his wife had been warned against ever trying to conceive. Ellie had died just days after giving birth to a healthy baby girl. Elevated blood pressure had brought on a stroke.
Years earlier, Ellie and J.D. had adopted her orphaned nephews, Sage and Dylan. After Ellie’s death, J.D. and the boys had showered all their love and attention on Angelica, who had developed into a remarkably caring, career-minded woman.
It was no secret that J.D. had been grooming his daughter to take over Lassiter Media. When J.D. had died suddenly from a massive coronary, everyone was shocked to hear his final wishes at the will’s reading. But, one by one, all had accepted the inexplicable terms. All except Angelica and, of course, Jack.
“Yep, Becca supports Evan.”
“And if you want her to switch camps,” Angelica went on, “you’re wasting your time. When that woman makes up her mind about something, there’s no changing it. And frankly, Jack, I don’t see any point in trying.”