By His Vow: Chapter 18
I sit at the conference table in my father’s office while Kian points at a spreadsheet full of numbers and graphs.
I’m meant to be focusing on the impact our acquisition of Warner Group will have on our forecasting and profit margins moving forward.
But all I can think about is how Tatum looked in that gold bikini.
I knew the moment I saw it that it was made for her. But there was no way of truly appreciating just how incredible it would look on her.
My cock swells at just the thought while Kian drones on.
I should be paying attention. This is important. But fuck. I can’t get my head out of the gutter.
It’s bad enough that I cleared the entire spa so I could watch her on CCTV without worrying about any other man turning up and looking at her. But knowing I’ve got the image Lorelei sent me burning up my cell is something else entirely.
I’ve spent longer than I’ll admit to anyone staring at it as I’ve jerked off in the past couple of days.
With Kain’s voice a distant memory, I pull my cell from my pocket and unlock it.
The temptation to look at the photo burns through me, but instead, I open the notification I just received letting me know that her lunch has arrived.
I smirk thinking about her reaction to it.
I woke her up with a healthy and nutritious breakfast this morning, and I’ve got the abuse for it sitting in my messages.
“Kingston.” Awareness tingles through me, but it’s not enough to pull my attention from my cell as I wait for a reaction. “Kingston.”
“Kingston,” Dad barks, successfully dragging my eyes from the screen.
“Yeah?” I ask, trying to play off the fact that I’ve not paid an ounce of attention.
“If you don’t want to be here right now, just fuck off,” Kian snaps as my cell buzzes in my hand.
“I’m here.” I grunt, attempting to ignore the burning need I have to look down. “I’ve just got some emails that need my attention,” I lie.
Both Dad and Kian glower at me.
It’s unlike me not to be fully focused in our meetings. But I can’t fucking help it.
“It can wait,” Dad says without enquiring about what I’m dealing with.
Dad has been slowly trying to pull back from the business, but despite his desire to embark on retirement, he’s still managing to be his overly-involved self with everything.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.
We’ve been running this place successfully for a while now, but Dad’s always been there watching our moves, double-checking our figures, and questioning our decisions.
It’s not necessary. We both know what we’re doing. We were fucking born for it, after all.
It’s time.
Even more so now that we have Warner Group and Miles with us.
The three of us have got this. We have the skills, the dedication, and the hunger to take both companies to places they’ve never been before.
“Just…” I look down at my screen and my smirk returns.
Tatum Warner: As much as I appreciate you sending something edible for a change, I have lunch plans so it was unnecessary. I’m sure my team will enjoy it. I’ll get them to send their thanks.
“Something funny?” Kian asks, when my smothered grunt turns all attention on me again.
“Everything is good. Please continue,” I say, placing my cell face down on the table before me.
“Not what I asked, but whatever,” Kian mutters as I repeat Tatum’s message in my head.
She’s lying. I had IT hook me up with her diary. I know she has back-to-back meetings today—none of which are lunch meetings.
It’s why I sent sushi. She can eat bites between them. It’s easy. Healthy. Filling.
I want to prove her right. Let her know that I know everything about her schedule.
I warned her on Saturday morning when I dropped the gala dinner on her. I already knew she didn’t have plans. I also knew that she’d try to convince me she was busy.
She’s underestimating me. I want to say that she really should learn, but I’m already addicted to proving her wrong and being one step ahead.
Knowing that she’s in her office eating some decent food, I finally turn most of my attention to my little brother as he geeks out over his spreadsheets.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I stand on the other side of Tatum’s office door and wait. It’s not often I do so, but my need to be at least semi-professional stops me from just barging in.
The attention of everyone in her office burns into my back as I wait for her to respond. Everyone bar her immediate team, that is. I already know they’re inside with her.
“Come in,” she calls out a handful of seconds later than polite.
Excitement bubbles inside me as I twist the handle and push the door open.
Silence greets me as I step inside, but somehow it gets even quieter when my identity is recognized by everyone around the conference table in her room.
It’s nowhere near as big as the one I’ve spent most of the day being bored around while thinking about her, but it’s decent enough to give her some kind of power trip, I’m sure. She might not be where she deserves to be in this company based on her surname alone, but she’s still doing alright for herself, and without the kind of step-up that Miles received when he finished college.
Tatum’s expression hardens as she glares at me. The air crackles between us, and I’ve no doubt that her team can sense it.
“Mr. Callahan, what can we do for you?” she asks tersely.
“Good evening, Tatum,” I say, forgetting about the formalities. The only time I’m going to use a surname to address her in public—hell, even in private from here on out—is going to be as Mrs. Callahan.
My dick stirs in my pants just thinking about it.
Beg for it, Mrs. Callahan…
“Sir?” she repeats when I don’t respond.
“I’ve come to take you home before we go out for dinner,” I say with a smile on my face.
Tomorrow is her father’s funeral. Everyone sitting around the table will be aware of that, and if we’re going to ensure those closest to her believe this relationship is real, then they need to see me being the support she needs during this time.
“Thought it might help take your mind off things,” I add.
“Aw, that’s sweet,” one of the older ladies around the table gushes.
My eyes find hers and I nod, silently thanking her for her support.
“I-I already have dinner plans tonight. But t-thank you for the invitation.” She stutters over her words, letting me know just how fake the gratitude is.
“You’re going home to spend the night alone.” Her eyes widen in surprise as I relay her plans for the evening. “We can do better than that, Tate.” I wink and the woman who was already swooning practically melts into her chair.
“I’m sure you can, Mr. Callahan, but I’m busy right now and I actually do have plans later.”
Dropping my briefcase beside her desk, I shrug my jacket off and throw it over the back of her chair, moving around her table and pulling out a spare seat. I straighten my tie and then set about rolling up my sleeves, more than aware of Tatum’s heated stare.
“I can wait. Please,” I say gesturing to the paperwork spread across the table. “Continue. I’d love to hear what you’re planning. I have a vested interest now, of course.” I wink at the woman before scanning the rest of the faces around the table. Most look tense and confused, but there is one, a young kid—probably fresh out of college—who looks like he’s planning my murder as he glares at me.
Alright, kid. Stand down. Your boss is mine.
Figuratively and literally.
Tatum glares at me from across the table. She’s debating doing as I say or defying me and calling an end to the meeting.
There are ten minutes left of their workday. She should continue. It would be bad practice for her to let her team out early while senior management sits around her table, but unlike Tatum, I’ve long stopped underestimating her.
Her eyes narrow at me before she responds. “As I was saying, I think we’re moving in the right direction here.” She points at a piece of paper in front of the kid. “I think this is the one we should be focusing on. Well done, Josh. You’ve knocked it out of the park.”
He preens like the cat who got the cream, lapping up Tatum’s praise like it’s the best day of his life.
Kiss ass.
I chuckle quietly.
“Did you want to add something, sir?” Tatum asks, turning all eyes on me.
“N-no,” I say, fake clearing my throat in an attempt to cover my reaction to his bullshit “You’re right. This is great.”
Tate glowers at me, holding my eyes dead as she dismisses her team, telling them to make their changes ready to get together again on Wednesday.
“Was that necessary?” she barks the second Josh closes the door behind him.
I sit back in my seat and cross my arms over my chest.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” I say quietly as she begins gathering up the paperwork.
“You bulldozed my meeting for absolutely no reason at all.”
“No, I came to invite you to dinner,” I argue.
“And I declined the offer. You should have left.”
“Maybe I wanted to see if my new acquisition is working to my advantage.”
“You know exactly how well Warner Group is doing. You don’t need to sit in one of my meetings to confirm that,” she grumbles.
“Well, maybe I have more interest in this department, this manager,” I emphasize, “than anywhere else in the company.”
She sighs as if she’s already exhausted by this conversation. By me.
Scanning her office, I notice how much tidier and more organized it is than her apartment. My gaze is almost back to her when I spot the empty tray her sushi would have been delivered on earlier.
“I see you enjoyed your lunch,” I muse, unable to hide my smirk.
“My team did,” she says, raising her chin in defiance.
“Sure,” I concede. She’s lying. We both know it. But I’ll let it slide—for now.
“What did you really want, Kingston?” she snaps once she’s standing behind her desk as if she’s ready to run out of the door and never look back.
“Like I said, I came to take you for dinner.”
“And I said I’m not interested. I’m busy.”
“You’re lying,” I accuse, pushing to my feet and stalking around the table toward her.
Her expression hardens and her lips press into a thin line as irritation floods through her veins.
“We have an image to portray now, Tate.” Her eyes remain locked on mine as I close the space between us. The second I come within touching distance, I reach out and tuck a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear.
She’s tied it up. When she first walked into her office this morning, it was loose and around her shoulders.
It’s pretty down, but when she has it pulled back, it accentuates her features, makes her eyes look bigger and even more mesmerizing. Her lips…
My eyes drop and her breath catches as my fingertips brush the shell of her ear.
Her tongue sneaks out, wetting her bottom lip and telling me everything she refuses to with words.
“Let’s show the world how good we could be together, baby. It’s part of the deal, after all.”
Her eyes search mine, anger and hunger dueling within them.
She wants to say no. To forget everything she agreed to and live her life how she sees fit. But she can’t. She has too much riding on this working out.
My hand brushes down her bare arm, causing goosebumps to erupt, and the second my fingers meet hers, I grasp them and tug her closer, dropping my mouth to her ear.
“Be a good girl, Tatum. Come to dinner with me. I’ll make it worth your while.”