The Wrong/Right Man Read online

  “Glad to see you made it here, since you got off on the wrong floor,” Braxton says, and I jump, turning to find him sitting at the head of the table and opening the bottle of water that was placed there.

  “So, I’m guessing this is where you tell me this is your company?” I prompt as my stomach turns and my hands start to shake.

  “I told you it was complicated.”

  “For once, you didn’t lie,” I say sarcastically, wanting to toss the box in my hand at his stupid head.

  “I haven’t lied to you,” he states, leaning back in the chair and resting his ankle on his knee.

  “No, you’ve just kept the truth to yourself until you didn’t have a choice but to come clean.”

  “Braxton!” Kathy exclaims, breaking our stare-down, and we turn to watch her walk into the room with a cup of coffee in her hand and a smile on her face.

  “Kathy.” He stands to greet her with a kiss to her cheek.

  “How was your trip? Did you and Hanna enjoy your time?” she asks, and his posture changes ever so slightly.

  “It was business, Kathy,” he states quietly but firmly.

  “I may be old, but I remember what it’s like to be young and—”

  “Kathy,” he cuts her off, letting the warning in his tone hang in the air between them. What she’s implying registers, and that knot in my stomach moves to fill my chest. Lord in heaven, not only is he a liar; he’s a cheater. Why do I have such shit luck when it comes to men?

  “Fine, fine.” She waves her hand around between them. “Did you have a chance to introduce yourself to Dakota?”

  He turns toward me, and the look in his eyes is filled with an uncomfortable amount of familiarity. I silently beg him not to say that we know each other.

  “Nice to meet you, Dakota.” He steps toward me, and I brace as he holds out his hand.

  “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Adams.” I place my hand in his, despising the tingles that shoot up my arm and travel through my blood stream. I try to remove my hand from his, but his grip is firm. He smiles a devastating smile, one that shows off perfectly straight teeth and a slight dimple in his right cheek, a dimple I didn’t notice until now. I let out the breath I was holding when he finally releases me and moves back to the head of the table where he was seated before.

  I go back to what I was doing, ignoring the heat I feel coming from his direction and his and Kathy’s quiet conversation. Once I’m finished, I start to head for the door, needing to get out of the room.

  “Come take a seat, Dakota,” he says as my hand lands on the doorknob, and my shoulders sag.

  I look over my shoulder and watch Kathy shake her head. “She’s not sitting in on this meeting. I just needed her help getting things set up.”

  “Come sit down,” he repeats, staring at me and silently daring her to dispute him again. Knowing I need this job and that I don’t want to embarrass Kathy or myself, I walk toward the table as he pushes out the chair next to him. Taking the seat, I cross one leg over the other, unsure of what to do, because Kathy—who has always seemed to like me—is looking at me like she wants to remove my head with the pen in her hand. “Kathy, can you go make sure everyone is ready for the meeting?”

  “Of course, Braxton,” she murmurs as she stands, giving me a strange look before walking across the room to the door and closing it behind herself.

  “I need this job,” I hiss when his eyes come to me. “I don’t know what just happened, but I like Kathy, I like working here, and I need this job.”

  Leaning across me, he ignores my statement and picks up the box in front of me on the table and opens it, pulling out a watch that looks similar to his and unclasping the band.

  “Where’s your phone?”

  “Why?”

  “Let me see it.” He holds out his hand, so I give it to him without thinking and he taps it to the watch then a moment later, he looks at me. “Give me your hand.”

  “Why?” I repeat and clasp my hands together in my lap, and his eyes flash with something I don’t understand, something that scares me but at the same time makes me feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Without answering my question, he pulls my hands apart, his fingers wrapping tightly around my wrist, not enough to cause pain but tight enough that I know it would be useless to try to get free. Working quickly, he buckles the wristwatch in place and then taps his wrist to mine, causing the watch to light up and flash in some strange code that is matching the one flashing on his.

  “What is this?” I ask, studying the device that is now wrapped firmly around my wrist.

  “It’s a watch that connects to your phone. It’s an IMG exclusive device, that links with all our products.”

  “I don’t want it,” I tell him, tugging free from his hold. I start to pull at the band of the watch to remove it but freeze when he grabs my hand.

  “Do not take it off,” he orders, making my spine stiffen as my eyes fly up to meet his.

  “You’re freaking me out,” I breathe in distress as my chest begins rising and falling rapidly from the look in his eyes.

  “Why?” His brows pull together like he doesn’t understand how I could possibly be freaked out, but everything in me is telling me to get up and run as fast as I can. I don’t even know how to begin to explain to someone like him that they are being overbearing, when it seems to be ingrained in his DNA.

  “You just are.” I let my hands fall to my lap with the watch still in place.

  “I’d never hurt you,” he says as his eyes soften, and it looks like he wants to say more, but before he can, the door to the room opens and people begin to filter in. They look between him and me with curiosity as they take their seats around the table.

  I pull the sleeve of my silk blouse over the watch and catch Kathy’s eye as she takes her seat. Unease fills me when I see the distrust in her gaze, but I just smile, playing stupid.

  “Do I need to stay for this?” I ask her quietly, and Braxton grabs my thigh under the table. When she shakes her head, I quickly get up and leave without a backward glance. I take the elevator down to the fourth floor, and as soon as I reach my desk, I touch my finger to the screen of the watch, and it lights up with an image of a digital clock. I press the buttons on the side, and the screen changes to a digital calendar. I press it again, and I see my office e-mail account, and when I press it one more time, my text messages show up.

  I let my hand fall to my lap, then try to focus on studying the information I need to know for a new device from IMG that will be airing tomorrow. A device that will allow you to do everything from make appointments, purchase event tickets, order groceries or take out, to maintain your home security. All things most people do today with different apps or devices, but with this, you can do it all in one place. IMG isn’t the first to come out with a home portal, but like a lot of their branded devices it’s built to work with all other IMG products, and I’m guessing the watch on my wrist will be soon added to their list.

  I get to work, hoping that the talking points I come up with will appeal to not only younger people but older people as well, showcasing just how easy the device is to set up and use. When the phone on my desk buzzes, I pick it up, putting it to my ear. “Dakota Newton.”

  “Dakota, can you please come into my office and bring me a coffee on the way?” Kathy asks, and my chest instantly fills with anxiety.

  “Absolutely, I’ll be right there,” I say, trying to sound cheerful even though I might pass out. I stop at the kitchen and use the machine to make a cup of coffee then take it with me to Kathy’s office on the other side of the floor.

  I tap on her open door when I reach it, and enter when she calls, “Come in.”

  “Did you need something?” I ask, setting the cup on the edge of the desk when she doesn’t speak.

  She leans back in her chair, locking her fingers together over her stomach. “I’m curious about something.”

  Oh, God, here it is.

  “Curious?” I parrot.r />
  “Did you know Braxton before I introduced you?”

  “Know him?” I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know him.” I shift on my feet and barely stop myself from wringing my hands together. “I mean, I ran into him in the elevator this morning, but I didn’t really talk to him.” I hope the half-lie will explain my nervousness and what happened upstairs.

  “He spoke to me about moving you upstairs to work side by side with Chris Stines, who runs the marketing department for IMG.”

  My stomach bottoms out. “What? But I don’t know anything about marketing,” I tell her, something she already knows.

  “I explained that to him, but he’s under the impression you would be a better fit working with that team.”

  “Tell him I don’t feel comfortable with the responsibility working in that department would entail,” I plea, and her eyes soften for the first time since we were in the conference room. I don’t know what Braxton’s reasoning is for wanting to move me, but I doubt it’s anything that would make me happy. And since I have gotten through most of my life by trusting my instincts and every one of them is screaming at me to avoid him, I’m going to do that.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she mutters, picking up the coffee I set down and taking a sip. “Why don’t you go get lunch while I make a few calls? When you get back, I’ll go over what you have so far for the show tomorrow.”

  My muscles relax. “Sure, would you like anything from the deli?”

  “I think you’ve noticed I survive on coffee most days.”

  “In that case, I’ll bring you a sandwich,” I say, gaining a smile before I turn for the door.

  Going to my desk, I grab my purse, slip off my heels, and put on my flats then head for the elevator. Once I reach the lobby floor and head out of the building, I unconsciously look down at my wrist and frown when I notice in the corner a tiny red light is blinking slowly. Walking quickly to the deli at the end of the block, I head right for the bathroom, where I take the watch off and drop it in the trash next to the sink. After washing my hands, I leave the bathroom feeling lighter.

  I walk two more blocks to another deli and go to the counter, where I order a turkey and Swiss on rye and take a seat in the back of the restaurant. I pull out my phone and pull up my messages, ignoring the ones from Braxton and responding to Jamie’s text about dinner.

  “Did you lose something?” a familiar deep voice asks as the seat in front of me scrapes against the floor, and I look up then watch Braxton fold his large frame into the small chair. Then he drops the watch on the table between us.

  “No,” I mumble, looking back down at my phone when it vibrates with an incoming text from Jamie saying he’ll bring dinner to my place around six.

  I start to text him back, but Braxton’s fingers move to my jawline pressing up until my eyes meet his. “I want you to wear the watch.”

  “I don’t want to wear your tracking device,” I tell him with a shrug as my heartbeat picks up. “That’s what it is, right?” I mean, I’m not sure, but that’s the only thing I can think it might be.

  “I don’t need to track you, Dakota. You live in my building.” He leans across the table closer to me, and my heart that was already thumping hard begins to pound. “You work for my company. I know almost everything about you. You can’t avoid me.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “A chance,” he says easily as his thumb runs along the edge of my bottom lip. My eyes slide to half-mast and I lean into his touch. “You can’t deny our connection.”

  Swallowing, I pull away from him and sit back in my chair, unsure how he has the power to make me forget everything with a simple touch. I look away from him and wrap my arms around my middle. He’s right; I can’t deny our connection. It’s like a living, breathing thing that’s taken on a life of its own. “A chance to what… lie to me some more?” I shake my head. “No, thank you.”

  “I wanted to tell you the truth.”

  “You should have told me the truth. You could have told me the truth.” I uncross my arms and point at him. “You chose to lie to me.”

  “You’re right.” He leans back and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re right; I should have told you, but I didn’t, because I saw what I wanted and wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of me getting it—including you.”

  Again. Seriously? “You cannot be believed.”

  “Tell me this.” He sits forward, resting his elbows on the table. “If I told you when you came up to me on the street that I wasn’t Adam, would you have let me take you to dinner?”

  Of course not.

  Maybe.

  Crap, I honestly don’t know. Instead of answering his question, I ask, “Who is Hanna?”

  “No one.”

  I raise a brow. “Kathy made it seem like she’s someone to you.”

  “She’s Kathy’s niece. We went out a few times. It was never serious.”

  “And you work with her?” I prompt, because I know Kathy said she was on his trip with him.

  I watch him closely to see if he’s lying—not that I would know if he is or not. “We do work together, she’s my assistant.” He looks down at my sandwich and pushes it closer to me. “Eat.”

  My nose wrinkles, not because I don’t want to eat, but because he’s telling me to. “Don’t annoy me by telling me what to do right now.”

  “If I remember correctly, you like me telling you what to do,” he says in a tone that makes my skin seem to vibrate and my toes curl.

  I pick up my sandwich and take a bite just for something to do, and he chuckles. After I chew and swallow, I wipe my mouth with my napkin and go back to the topic of Hanna, unwilling to let the subject go. Not because of the jealousy that’s building in the pit of my stomach, but because I just want to know. “It must be awkward working with your ex.”

  “She’s not my ex.”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, someone you slept with.”

  “Our relationship has never been anything but professional. We went out but neither of us felt anything more than friendship for the other.”

  “I’m sure.” I let out a breath, unsure if I’m even comfortable with the way I’m feeling right now, even if I don’t have any right to feel upset.

  “Did Kathy tell you that I want to move you upstairs?”

  “She did.” I ball up the napkin I’m still holding and toss it onto my sandwich, my appetite completely gone. “I told her that I don’t want to move.”

  “I saw some of the work you’ve done, Dakota.”

  “If I wanted a job in marketing, I would have applied for it.” I hold his stare, silently daring him to use the power he has to do whatever he wants despite me telling him not to move me.

  With a sigh, he shakes his head. “If you change your mind, the job is yours.”

  “Thanks.” I pick up my phone and check the time. It feels like I’ve been sitting here with him forever, but it’s only been about twenty minutes, which means I still have about thirty minutes before I have to get back to the office. Just as I’m about to stand and excuse myself, my phone rings in my hand and the watch on the table vibrates. When I see it’s Troy calling, I wonder what I did recently that I need to repent for. Unwilling to talk to him, I end the call by sending a message saying I’m busy and will call back.

  “Who’s Troy?” Braxton asks, and I look at him.

  “My ex-fiancé.” I don’t know if I tell him because I want him to realize he doesn’t know everything about me or if I just want to see his reaction. And he does react—his jaw instantly gets tight and he looks down at the watch between us like he wants to take it outside and run it over. Before he can do that, I pick it up. “Thanks for the watch.” I scoot away from the table to stand. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  “We will definitely be seeing each other.” He stands and blocks me so I can’t get past him. “I’ll be at your place tonight.”

  “I have plans tonight.”

  �
�With your brother?” I’m not sure if it’s a question or if he’s letting me know he’s aware I have plans with Jamie. “Like I said, I’ll see you tonight.” He leans down, touching his lips to my cheek, and all I can do is stand there and soak in the feeling of his lips on me like a complete idiot.

  Chapter 6

  DAKOTA

  SITTING ON THE floor in front of the coffee table, I pick up my glass of wine and take a sip. Since Jamie left an hour ago, I’ve been reviewing the notes Kathy left for me, and I’m finding it hard not to toss them into the trash. All of my hard work was for nothing. She didn’t like any of my ideas. She might as well just write me a script to follow for tomorrows show or tie strings to my hands and control me like a puppet. With a tired groan, I rub my eyes then frown when my front door beeps. I look up as it starts to open, and my adrenalin spikes as I watch someone step inside, their features blocked by the shadows. I attempt to scoot under the coffee table but can barely get my head underneath it, so I settle with lying as still as I can while holding my breath.

  “Dakota, I can see you.”

  Braxton.

  I sit up quickly and curse myself when I accidentally bump my almost full glass of red wine, watching it tip over and fall on the white plush carpet. “Shit.” I jump up and rush to the kitchen, dropping the glass in the sink. I grab a small towel and wet the edge of it then go back to the rug and attempt to use it to blot the stain away, but it doesn’t work. If anything, I seem to be spreading it farther. “Great.” I glare at the man now standing over me. “This rug probably cost thousands of dollars, and now I have to replace it because of you.”

  “It didn’t cost thousands of dollars.” His brow pulls together. “Or I don’t think it did.” He bends over and takes the rag from my hand. “And you don’t need to replace it. I’ll have the building manager take care of it.”

  Right. I roll my eyes. How could I forget he owns this building, and IMG, and he just walked right into my home like he owns it—because he kind of does? “How did you get in here?”