Entangled To The CEO

Rainer’s [POV]

I let the young man have that one. It was true; I was staring after Tasha as she made her way through the lobby of Hyperion Industries.

My eyes found her as I pushed through the revolving doors and made my way through the sun-drenched atrium.

She’d always been a knock-out, but there was something different about her today. In my defense, I counted at least a dozen other people giving her appreciative looks.

Of course, everyone knew of Tasha’s success, so they were curious about Hyperion’s newest star.

The attention had seemed to worry Tasha; she had had a funny frown on her sweet lips the whole day before, but now she seemed to have accepted her billionaire status.

I looked at her bare shoulders in the sheer blouse, held back proudly, her perfect posture a hallmark of her grace.

It was a new outfit. I would have noticed that skirt with its flirty little hem before.

I knew how the right clothes could boost a woman’s confidence, but that still didn’t explain the change I saw in Tasha.

She still moved at her fast clip, but she had a smile and a greeting for everyone. Then it hit me.

Tasha had always greeted everyone; it was part of her that didn’t fit the Ice Queen reputation she’d been given.

The difference was now everyone was noticing her. The acknowledgment, as small as a nod from a senior executive, was lighting Tasha up like a Roman candle.

And now they were in awe. Everyone except the large security guard who ruled the front desk.

He saw her but took his time finishing his crossword puzzle before he set it down to greet her.

“Must be nice to get new work clothes,” he said. Tasha stopped and leaned on his desk, causing a few co-workers to bump into each other behind her.

“Otto, I keep telling you all you have to do is ask for a new uniform,” she said.

Otto watched the gawkers with a stern stare.

“The last thing I need is for my team to think they’re flashy. It’d go straight to their heads, and they’d never get any work done.” Tasha laughed.

“Someone should have told our CFO that fact.”

“Yeah, I’ve been noticing an upswing in new suits and back-slapping. The valets keep calling Jim over here and raving about new sports cars.” Otto shook his head, checked a monitor, and then whacked Jim on the shoulder.

“Swing by the coffee bar. We never have that many customers at this time of day.” I stopped my slow shuffle around the security desk to let Jim pass.

Tasha was lingering longer than I thought she would; she knew the head of security by name, and they talked like old friends. I had to take out my phone and pretend to check emails just to have a reason to slow down.

“Speaking of coffee, I just happened to go by your favorite place, and mocha was on special.” Tasha pushed the cup she had been holding toward Otto.

“Now you?” Otto asked. He took the cup, sipped it, and shook his head.

“Throwing your money around like it’s confetti, eh, Ms. Nichols?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t lose my head,” Tasha said.

“Pity. If anyone deserves to let loose, it’s you,” Otto said.

“What’s your sister say about all this?” Tasha laughed, a lovely relaxed lilt that I had never heard before. “Is she checking up on me?”

“The orange trees.” Otto nodded over to the large planters and lush indoor trees.

“She spent one afternoon here, and they’ve never looked better in their lives.”

“Barbie’s not impressed. You know her.” Tasha caught sight of me and stood up. Otto shifted too, turning his bull-like frame. He glanced from me back to Tasha, and one eyebrow quirked up.

“Well, you listen to your sister. Never met a more level-headed lady. She’s going to make a wonderful mama.”

My phone burst out with the urgent staccato rhythm Topher had programmed as his ring. I almost dropped the damn thing and fumbled to hit ignore.

Once the call was sent to voice mail, I raised it to my ear and pretended to listen. I had learned more about Tasha in two minutes of eavesdropping than I had in a year and I wasn’t ready to be interrupted. Otto raised his other dark eyebrow at me.

“Come on, Ms. Nichols; let’s get you to the elevator.”

“What’s with the special treatment?” Tasha asked. Otto lumbered out from behind the security desk and hooked one hand into his belt next to his gun. The other arm raised to direct and shield Tasha.

“I got my orders, and you’ve got a lot of extra attention this morning.” I trailed after them to the elevator bank, sure the security guard was clocking my every step even though his back was to me.

Otto towered above the crowd of suits at the elevator bank, and they all shifted aside as he moved Tasha through to the front.

Jim gave a grim nod from the now-crowded coffee bar, but Otto did not leave Tasha’s side until the elevator doors opened.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

“Morning, Mr. Maxwell,” Otto said as I slipped around him and into the elevator next to Tasha. He’d never spoken to me before, and the greeting was an intimidating mix of warning and something else.

His stony stare charged me with keeping our girl safe. I nodded to him and fought the urge to tug at my tight collar. The head of security’s sharp perceptions was unnerving.

The elevator doors slid closed, and James Berger let out a whistle.

“Ms. Nichols, you are looking sharp today.” Tasha gave him an arched look and said,

“Thank you.” I bristled as James’ eyes roamed over her. I shifted in the crowded elevator so that my back blocked James.

Tasha glanced up at me with a frown. The move was too proprietary, and James was already giving his cronies speculative looks.

“New clothes?” I asked Tasha.

“Let me guess: that’s as wild as you got with your windfall. I bet the rest is waiting for your new financial advisor to ferret it all away.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Tasha asked. I shrugged as James and his cronies chuckled.

“Nothing. Just kind of boring, don’t you think? Now, if you want to know how to act like a billionaire, I’m willing to give lessons.”

“Well, I’m not willing to lower my standards,” Tasha said. The elevator doors opened as if on cue, and she swept out and down the office hallway. James snorted with laughter.

“Losing your edge there, old man. And here I thought your fat bank account was going to make you unstoppable with the ladies.”

“That’s the Ice Queen,” one of the junior executives said.

“Rainer just needs to turn up the heat a bit.”

“Wanna bet?” James asked. I left them outside the elevator, placing their bets.

I had to jog down the hallway to catch up with Tasha.

“Tasha, hold up,” I called. She glanced over her shoulder, her coppery curls bouncing.

“If it’s not about work, I’m not stopping,” she said.

“It is, I swear,” I said, catching hold of her bare shoulder. My mind went blank.

Tasha shrugged away from my hand and tapped a high heel as she waited.

“Well? What work have you been doing already this morning?” The thought of Sheila, the interior designer, and her delectable view flashed through my head.

Normally, my mind would have detoured off into enjoyable daydreams, but today it hummed with only one thought.

Tasha. The whole empty interlude, the first like that that I had ever turned down, was nothing compared to Tasha’s dark-brown eyes and the satin of her bare skin. I could still feel the heat of her on my fingertips.

“Tying a few things up at home,” I said. “Did I tell you I bought a new house?”

“Rainer, we don’t have time for this. You do remember we have an early meeting with Stan, I mean, Mr. Eastman. Right?” Tasha asked.

Another person she was on a first-name basis with, except he was the Chief Operating Officer of our whole damn company.

I blinked as a few far-fetched rumors caught traction in my head.

“You and Mr. Eastman? Are you two close?” I asked. Tasha whipped around and marched towards her office.

Again I had to race to catch up. I reached out for her silken, bare shoulder, but she rounded on me and jabbed a finger into my chest.

“I’m not going to catch you up every day, Rainer. This is your project now, and I expect you to do your share,” Tasha said.

I caught her jabbing finger and held her hand as long as she would let me.

“Catch me up on what?” Tasha yanked her hand free.

“Of course, you don’t know. We’re facing a public relations nightmare of epic proportions, the whole project is in jeopardy, and you, of all people, don’t have a clue.” My hand went to the pocket that held my phone.

Topher had been calling all morning, and I hadn’t checked a single message.

My email inbox was jammed full, but I had been too distracted learning that Tasha had a pregnant sister.

“I’ll know soon enough,” I pointed out.

“GroGreen is under attack for encouraging people to skip the real gardening and just sit on their couches. We’re being charged in the court of public opinion for adding to the U. S. obesity problem. Our app has been downgraded to nothing but a silly game.” I groped for Tasha’s hand again, and this time she didn’t pull away.

“Are you serious?” I asked. My assistant, Topher, came rushing up. “Mr. Maxwell, I’ve been looking all over for you. Did you get my messages? My emails?

My. . . Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I ignored Topher’s preoccupation with our interlaced hands and tugged Tasha toward her office.

Her assistant, a vacant-smiling temp, glanced up serenely.

“Hello, Ms. Nicholas.”

“It’s Nichols, Amy. My name is Ms. Nichols,” Tasha said.

“Sure, right. Would you like some coffee?” Tasha’s hand slipped from mine as Topher and I gaped at the useless assistant.

It was clear at that moment that any work Tasha did, the amazing work she did for Hyperion, was completely on her own.

While I sat in an office with a view, letting my overeager assistant organize everything for me, Tasha worked alone with her back turned to the gray-brick view behind her.

“Ms. Nichols, I have the latest reports,” Topher said. He rushed after her into her cramped office.

I ignored the flirty smile from the useless temp and followed my assistant.

He was right to aim his hard work at Tasha, and, for once, I was glad I had something to offer her.

“If Hyperion can’t recover from the bad press, it will encourage lawsuits, and the company will have to freeze the assets gained from the app sales,” Topher said.

“We’ll lose our bonuses?” I asked.

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?” Tasha asked. She crossed her arms and leaned on her utilitarian desk.

“Your billions are safe; it’s just the company’s name, reputation, and our professional respect that is at risk.”

She thought that I didn’t care about anything but my bank account.

Neither she nor my assistant could hear the nagging voices in my head.

It wouldn’t matter how much money I had made, how I had secured the Maxwell fortune for generations to come.

If my work lost the respect of everyone, the whole nation from what Topher was saying, then my family would never let me forget it.

“The only thing I care about is what we’re going to do next,” I said.