The Greek's Nine-Month Redemption. Maisey Yates
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“I’ll let the hit men know.” She turned and smiled at him again, and he offered one in return.
The doors slid open, revealing the rather vacant bottom floor. Matte shared its offices with many other businesses, and with penthouses on the top floor. At this hour of the day not many people were coming and going.
“Where is it you’re staying, Apollo?” she asked. “A crypt somewhere in Midtown?”
“The one just next to yours, Elle,” he said, his tone light. “After you.”
He extended his hand, waiting for her to step out of the elevator. She swept past him, moving through the lobby and going through the revolving doors. She stepped on to the busy Manhattan sidewalk, put her sunglasses on and stood there, tapping her foot.
Apollo emerged a moment later, straightening his suit jacket and standing across from her for a moment.
“Care to continue shouting at me while I walk?” he asked.
“I’m not shouting at you. I’m calmly explaining to you why you’re wrong in your methods of handling my company.”
He turned away from her, walking down the crowded street, his broad back filling her vision.
“Apollo!” Okay, she was shouting now. “We are not through with our meeting.”
“I think we adjourned it.”
“The general meeting,” she said, upping her pace. “But we are not done.”
“I’m just here,” he said, gesturing to an old boutique hotel only two buildings down from the Matte offices. “Since I’m in town primarily to deal with Matte I thought I should stay close.”
“Congratulations. How sensible.”
“I have my moments. Judging by the fact that I’m a billionaire who successfully staged a takeover of your father’s company, I’ve had several moments, actually.”
“If you were as clever as you think you are you would listen to my plans for Matte. The answer isn’t to reduce us down to nothing. You have to let me try and expand it, otherwise we really will die.”
“You’re assuming I’m trying to save you, dear Elle. Perhaps I just want to pull the plug.”
“You... You...” She was sputtering now. She never sputtered. She blamed him.
“Villain. Scoundrel. I answer to any of those really.”
“You have always been a competitive son of a bitch, but this is above and beyond.”
“You’re assuming this is a competition.”
“What else could it be? You’re ungrateful. For everything my father gave you. And for the fact that he didn’t give you everything.”
He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Oh, you mean that he didn’t give me his corporation, or Matte, in the first place? Why do you think he installed you, Elle? Your competence? No. He gave you the position to keep a foothold once I bought him out.”
The words landed hard, hollowing out her midsection. Leaving nothing but a crater behind.
Like you didn’t suspect that already.
She had. Of course she had. But the fact he knew it meant it was obvious. Possibly to everyone.
The doorman opened the golden door for them and Apollo paused to tip him before continuing on. Elle opened her purse and produced her own dollar, handing it to the man before going in after Apollo.
She was not allowing him to do her tipping for her.
“I am in the penthouse suite. It’s very nice.”
“Why am I not surprised that I just got out of a meeting where you were discussing tightening belts for my company, and yet you’re staying in the penthouse suite.”
He pushed the button for the elevator and the doors slid open. She followed in after, starting to feel slightly out of breath.
“I am not in need of money, agape, if that’s why you thought I was mentioning cuts.”
Agape. She hated that. He’d started using that on her sometime when she was in high school. Just to make her angry. And some small part of her grabbed hold of it every time, holding it near. Love.
Oh, what a ridiculous, stupid...
She really hated her hormones.
“Why else would you mention cuts?” she asked, keeping her tone sweet.
The doors slid shut and she had the uncomfortable feeling of being trapped in a closed-in space again.
“Because you need the money. Matte needs the money. In a digital world your print publication is lagging and while you have certainly come up with innovative ways to compete, you haven’t leveled out yet.”
“But if you have enough—”
He chuckled. “I don’t run a charity. I run a business. My corporation turns profits. That’s what it does. I make money hand over fist, and I’m comfortable admitting that. I’m proud of it. But that won’t continue if I don’t refine my assets. Refining is a hot and painful process. It takes fire. And people being fired.”
“Ha-ha. You’re far too funny for your own good.”
He frowned. “Was that funny? It wasn’t meant to be.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened on a narrow hallway. Apollo stepped out and walked down a few doors, pausing to open it. “Come in,” he said.
She very much had the feeling of being a small, vulnerable creature invited into the lair of a predator.
You are not a wildebeest. You are just as scary as he is. You are a lioness.
She stepped over the threshold and into the room. It was lovely, he was right. Ornate moldings and trim framing the space, the windows looking out over Central Park.
There was a large seating area with a bar, and off to the left an open door that she could see led to a bedroom with a very large, dramatic bed.
She imagined, as tall as he was, he took up most of the mattress. That thought made her picture him—long, tanned limbs sprawled out on the bed. Would he look more relaxed in sleep? Would he seem less...lethal out of that custom-fit black suit that conformed to every line, every muscle in his body?
He closed the door behind her with a finality that made her jump.
“My team is the best there is,” she said. “They have some of the most creative minds in this—or any—industry. You have to admit the fact that the Matte Guidebooks have been hugely successful. And the makeup guide actually helped to increase sales of the cosmetics. It was specific to the brand and that—”
“Again you are telling me things I already know. I didn’t get to this position in life without paying attention. I understand that your team is important to you. But if I don’t do what must be done, if I don’t make the hard cuts, none of you will have a job.”
“But I—”
“You seem to be under the impression that this is a democracy, Elle. Be assured, absolutely, that this is a dictatorship. I am not negotiating with you. And it is only by my good graces that your pretty ass remains in the CEO’s office.”
Heat and fury washed over Elle in a fiery baptism. “And here I thought it was because I’m good at my job.”
“You are,” he said, taking a step toward her. “But there are a great many people who would be good at your job. People who didn’t get handed their position from their daddy.”
“Oh, that’s hilarious, Apollo. As if you didn’t get a leg up from my father, you Judas.” She took a step toward him, rage propelling her now. “My