Free One Night Stand (New Yorker III) by M.O. Kenyan Page B

spearheading the campaign and there was no way to avoid
her now. They would be working closely together. He had received a notice from
Harold that the signing of the contracts had been postponed. He thought he
would have to convince his godfather not to drop Ross and Kent as their
potential legal representation, but the old man hadn’t suggested it. He was
about to chicken out of this meeting, but when he found out Michael Mathews was
part of the firm and was trying to sabotage Catalella he had to go.
    Rich
saw Catalella from the corner of his eye and froze for a second. She seemed to
be fuller in a way…healthier. She had a smile on her face as she spoke with
Dennis Kent. But when she turned to face him, her smile froze and the files in
her hand almost dropped out of her grasp. In a second she had regained her
composure. She walked out of the office and headed toward him. Rich was nervous—he
didn’t know exactly what he would say to her.
    “Hi,”
he said once she stopped in front of him.
    “Funny,
I thought you would be heading in the other direction,” Catalella said, the
animosity in her voice obvious as she pointed towards the elevator. Rich sucked
in a breath. She had seen him. There was nothing as embarrassing as being
called out on his cowardice.
    “Mr.
McCrery,” Dennis announced as he shook Rich’s hand.
    Shit! Rich thought. A new reason for
his little orchidto resent him, as
if leaving her alone in bed and running away from her wasn’t enough. He hadn’t
told her of his true identity. He saw the shock in her eyes but, just like that,
it had disappeared. The business side of her appeared as she escorted him to
the conference room.
    “If you
don’t mind me asking, why are you handling this account?” Rich tried to sound
as inoffensive as possible but the anger in Catalella’s eyes told him he had
missed his mark.
    “That’s
what I keep asking. I’m Michael Mathews.” Michael chuckled as he shook Rich’s
hand.
    He
realized the fool hadn’t recognized him. He was a charmer and if he hadn’t known
his true nature and seen what sort of a slime ball he was, he would have fallen
for that trust-inspiring grin.
    “My
name is on the door. Catalella Ross,” Catalella announced. “Now, gentlemen, if
we can take our seats. Michael, I’m sure there is an ambulance out there
waiting for you to chase it.”
    Rich
tried to hide his laugh with a cough. He was proud of his little orchid for
putting Michael in his place.
    “I
thought I could sit in,” Michael retorted.
    “I’d
rather you didn’t. Mr. McCrery has some private information he would like to
share, and since I’m going to be his counsel—”
    Rich
realized she had left the statement hanging for him to pick up. He was angry
that she had pulled him into her squabble and left him to deliver the final
blow. He was trying to look professional in front of Harold and being
unprofessional wasn’t going to help his cause.
    “Please
excuse us, Mr. Mathews.” He issued the dismissal and took a seat as far away
from Catalella as possible.

 
    * * *
*

 
    “Let’s
begin,” Rich barked as he took his seat.
    Catalella
noticed that there was coolness in Rich’s tone that she had never heard before.
Granted, she hadn’t known him that long—they had only had three encounters. But
his voice never sounded that cold before. At first she wanted to ask him what
was wrong, but then she remembered that he was the liar in the room.
    “Right,”
Catalella began, using the authoritative voice her father had used in this very
same room. Rich had seen her at her most vulnerable moment but she didn’t want him
to think she was weak. “How should I address you?”
    “Mr.
McCrery is fine.”
    Power trip. Catalella chuckled to herself
sardonically. This was the real him. Forget the T-shirt, jeans and sneaker guy.
The man in front of her, the one in the power suit, was the real Rich. No, not Rich,
but Ethan McCrery.
    “Ethan,
then.” Catalella ignored