“Michael? It’s me—Jenna.”
“...from the gym?”
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “From your work, genius. Listen, Trask bumped up the draft for the merger to Monday, and I’m going to need you to meet me at the office as soon as possible.”
There was a brief pause, and I heard the rustling of sheets.
“Is this a joke? Who is this?” A loud yawn. “I think you want my brother.”
Truer words had never been spoken. This was most definitely a job for the older Larchwood brother, not the younger. But I’d work with what I had.
“Michael, this isn’t a dream. You need to wake up. This is Jenna. The girl from the office and the gym—the one who won’t go out with you. You need to put your feet on the ground and have someone get you coffee because this is going to be a really long day. I need you to work with me on this, buddy. Okay? Now what’s going on—are you up?”
“Oh...Jenna.”
“I swear, Michael!”
There was chuckling on the other end.
“I’m only joking. Alright, I’m up. And yes—I’ll help you with your little dilemma.”
I bit my lip in exasperation. As if he had a choice.
“But only because I think it’s adorable you went through all this trouble just to get my phone number.”
The phone was trembling in my hand and I was trying my best not to shout. “What are we—twelve?! This is serious, Michael!”
“And I’m taking it seriously, Jenna.”
I heard him walking around now and closed my eyes in relief. At least I knew he wasn’t going to hang up and fall right back to sleep.
“Only one thing,” he continued.
“What’s that?” I asked, the smile fading from my face.
“I’m not really feeling the office today. I’ll send a car around to pick you up.”
I threw up my hands in utter exasperation.
“Wait! Where do you—”
“Jenna, I’m sending a car.”
Chapter 5
“You have got to be kidding me.”
The town car that had inexplicably found my address and picked me up ten minutes later had doubled back the way it came and pulled to a stop in front of the most extravagant luxury hotel in Manhattan. There were socialites and movie stars milling about in the front lobby, as a white-gloved waiter passed around a tray of morning champagne.
My eyes narrowed, and I slid back further into my seat. “He got us a hotel room?!”
“Oh no,” the driver—a man whose named turned out to be Frank—reassured me, “Mr. Larchwood owns the whole top floor.”
I absorbed this in silent shock for a moment, before, “So he had you bring me to his house?!” That was even worse!
“Well, penthouse, but yes. Mr. Larchwood told me to bring you directly home. Or rather, to his home.” Frank looked as though this was perfectly normal.
The nerve of this man!
“He also said if you refused, to remind you that he’s the boss, and it’s best not to make him mad.”
I blinked. “You can tell him that this is sexual harassment.”
“It’d be better if you told him yourself,” the man said.
I rolled my eyes and gathered up my purse. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Oh—he also said if you said that, not to let you inside.”
“Relax, Frank, I’ll spare his life.” I got out of the car and stepped onto the curb. “...Maybe.”
I made my way rather nervously inside—wishing I’d stuck with my more professional attire—and got swept along with a crowd headed toward the elevator. On the way there, a white-gloved hand tapped my shoulder, and I had a small heart attack. They weren’t going to throw me out, were they? Just for being underdressed?
I turned around slowly, staring into the face of a middle-aged server. “Um, yes?”
“Miss Jenna Harks?”
My heart pounded even faster. “...yes?”
All at once, a flute of sparkling champagne appeared in the air between us.
“Compliments of Mr. Larchwood.”
I took the glass automatically, but then stared at it in bewilderment. “I’m sorry...what?”
“Along with a message.” The man spoke in a slight British accent. “He wanted me to remind you that he takes his work very seriously and that this is a key component if the two of you want to get anything productive done.”