Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me 1)

“Braden, I didn’t call you to give you work. I’m perfectly willing to pay an attorney.”

“I have the best attorneys here at corporate.”

“None of which I can afford, I’m sure.”

“Did I say you had to pay?”

“No, but—”

“Forward it to me. I’ll be in touch. Goodbye.”

That’s it? Classic Braden.

It’s almost noon. I print the contract and then phone Tessa quickly to cancel our lunch date. Luckily I get her voicemail. I’ll spill everything to her eventually, but at the moment I need to hurry. Braden may not be in his office for long.

He wants me to forward the contract? I’ll forward it.

Personally.

Chapter Forty-Four

Everyone in Boston is familiar with the Black Building, but very few have been inside, including me. That’s about to change.

I stand outside the silver skyscraper. It wasn’t always the Black Building. Black, Inc. bought it five years ago when the company went public. A new building is in the works—the building that Peter Reardon and his father want to design but apparently won’t. For now, Black, Inc. is housed here.

I enter the vast lobby. I walk through a metal detector while an armed guard peruses the contents of my purse. Then I head to the reception desk where I sign in and receive a visitor badge.

“Who are you here to see?” one of the receptionists asks me.

“Braden Black.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I’m his…girlfriend.”

The young woman’s eyebrows nearly shoot off her forehead at the word “girlfriend.” Then, “So you’re the one.”

“Apparently,” I say.

“I should give him a quick call.”

“If you’d like.”

She pauses a moment, looking me over. Finally, she says, “Go ahead up. Thirtieth floor. I’ll let the receptionist up there deal with you.”

I’m not sure what to make of her words. I head to the elevator and press the requisite button. I’m transported to the thirtieth floor so quickly that my feet feel like they’re buried inside the floor.

I draw in a breath and exit the elevator.

Sure enough, another receptionist—this one black-haired and gorgeous—sits right outside.

She looks up as the elevator doors close. “May I help you?”

I clear my throat. “I’m Skye Manning, and I’m here to see Braden Black.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.” I hold her gaze with as much bravado as I can muster, even though my knees are shaking a bit.

“I see. His lunch was just delivered. Let me see if he’s okay being disturbed.”

I nod.

“Mr. Black,” she says into her headset. “Skye Manning is here to see you.” Pause. “All right, thank you.” She locks her gaze on mine. “Go ahead back. Take a right and keep going. It’s the corner office.”

“Thank you.” I force my feet to move as if I know what I’m doing. The hallway is long and narrow and seems longer and narrower the closer I get to Braden’s office.

Until I’m facing his office, and his closed door nearly smacks me in the face.

I knock more forcefully than I feel.

“Come in.”

I open the door.

The office is huge, with glass windows overlooking the city, much like his bedroom overlooks the bay. Braden sits behind a dark cherry desk, a gourmet feast spread out before him.

“Skye,” he says simply.

“I brought the contract.” I pull it out of my purse. “I thought maybe we could look at it together.”

“That couldn’t have waited until tonight?”

“We didn’t make any plans, and I thought—”

“You’d interrupt me at work?”

“You’re not working. You’re eating.”

“I’m always working, Skye. Close the door, please.”

I shut it quietly, walk forward, and hand him the contract.

“Leave it on the desk. Have you eaten?”

I set the document on the corner of his massive desk. “No.”

“Would you like half of mine?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“So you want to sit here and watch me eat?”

“Well…I guess.”

He stands, gathers his containers of food, and moves them to the table across the room. He walks back to his desk and pushes a button on his phone. “Claire, could you bring in another plate, please?”

A few seconds later, someone—Claire, presumably—knocks at the door.

“Come in,” Braden says.

The door opens, and in walks a woman, blond and blue-eyed and wearing a skin-tight navy sheath. She sets the plate she carries on the table.

“Thanks, Claire.”

She nods and leaves the office, closing the door behind her.

“Sit down and help yourself. They always deliver enough for two or more people.”

“I didn’t come here to—”

“Eat, Skye. You’ll need energy for what I have planned for you this afternoon.”

“I—”

“You barge into my office with a contract you could have easily emailed me, looking sexy with your red lips parted. You think I’m not going to fuck you after that?”

“I… I didn’t mean—”

“You promised me your control, Skye, yet you hold on to it in any way you can. Don’t think I don’t know why you showed up here. It was in complete defiance. I told you to email the contract, so you did what you do. You got around my instructions.”