Darkly (Follow Me 4)

“Oh, good. I have plenty of time to get to work.”

Shit. An email from the office in New York. They need me to sign a document today and attend meetings the rest of the week—among them a meeting with McCain Global regarding some property we’ve been trying to purchase for years. A busy several days and then the benefit for the Boston Opera Guild on Saturday. I’m a major donor. “Looks like I have to go to New York for a few days.”

“Oh,” she says. “Who will take care of Sasha?”

“Annika will. I’m texting her now. I’ll be back Saturday morning. Saturday evening, I’d like you to accompany me to a benefit for the Boston Opera Guild.”

She nods. “Sure. Okay.”

I kiss her lips softly. “Wear the black dress.”

…

Two hours later, still wearing yesterday’s suit, I arrive at LaGuardia on my jet. I don’t have any luggage, as I keep everything I need at my Manhattan penthouse. After a quick change into fresh clothes and a much-needed tooth brushing, I arrive at the office.

Another two hours later, all the documents are signed, and I’m at lunch with Dimitri Stamos, who heads the company satellite in Manhattan, telling him to take the meetings for the rest of the week.

He drops his jaw. “Who are you, and what have you done with Braden Black?”

I understand his confusion. I’ve always been the face of Black, Inc., and in the rare event that I can’t make an important meeting, I send Ben.

Dimitri is a capable man, though, and he’s told me on more than one occasion that he’s available to ease my workload.

“You’ve been wanting to do more, Dimitri. Here’s your opportunity.”

“Well…yeah, but this isn’t like you. At all.”

He’s right. Still, I don’t owe him an explanation, so if he’s waiting for one, he’ll be waiting a long time.

“Suffice it to say I have confidence in you to take the meetings and do what needs to be done.”

“I’m up for it. The only issue I see is the meeting with Foster McCain of McCain Global. It’s taken a while to even get him to talk to us.”

“You know as much about the business as I do,” I say. “If you have any issues, I’ll be available by phone as always.”

Dimitri’s brown eyes widen further. “You mean you’re not going to call in and attend via phone?”

“Not this time,” I say, taking a sip of water. “You can call me if necessary, but this is what you’ve been asking for, Dimitri. You’ve more than proved your competence over the last five years. I trust you. Implicitly.”

Though I keep my expression stoic, I’m surprising myself as well as Dimitri. Ben has been after me for years not to micromanage so much. We hire only the best people, have an ironclad nondisclosure agreement, and in the last ten years, we’ve never had an employee screw us over.

That’s why I’m doing this.

It’s not because I can’t stand being away from Skye until Saturday.

Fuck. What a damned lie!

For a man who values control, I’m losing it where Skye Manning is concerned.

“I suppose it won’t do me any good to ask why you’ve had this change of heart, huh?” Dimitri asks.

“No,” I say emphatically, “it won’t.”

My private life is private. I keep it out of the workplace. In fact, I keep a large facet of it out of my hometown of Boston.

My club, Black Rose Underground, is here in Manhattan.

And it’s here for a very good reason.