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Laurel’s lungs seized and she choked on a breath. Tears leaked from her eyes as she coughed, and if she was really lucky, mascara streaks were even now forming below her lashes.
“What?” she asked when she recovered. “I’m not flirting with you.”
If anything, he was the one exuding all the come-hither vibes. At times, it was so strong, she was barely hanging on by the fingernails.
His implacable expression didn’t change. “Good. It would be a bad idea to get involved.”
Oh, well, that was a telling statement. Not “You’re not my type.” Not “You’ve mistaken me for a heterosexual.” Bad idea to get involved. That meant he felt all the sizzle, too.
Interesting.
How much closer could she get to Xavier LeBlanc and would that benefit her story? Or simply benefit her? The man knew his way around an orgasm—she could tell. And while this exposé lay at the pinnacle of her personal goals, she couldn’t help but want to investigate her reaction to Xavier as a man.
She had a core-deep desire to know things, and at this moment, Xavier topped the list.
“A bad, bad idea,” she repeated and crossed her fingers behind her back. “I solemnly swear that I will refrain from all double entendres, loaded statements and anything that could be construed as flirting while you and I are working so closely together.”
“I didn’t say we’d be working closely together,” he corrected, and all at once she wondered what it would take to get him well and truly rattled to the point of revealing something unintended.
If she hoped to dig up enough dirt for an exposé, she’d have to figure it out. Everyone had their tipping point and people had spilled secrets to her in the past, often before realizing it. Usually that happened after she’d gained a measure of their trust, though.
How ethical was it to seduce it out of someone? She’d never tried that particular method before and there was no way to deny the idea excited her. Which meant it really was a bad idea. But still viable. She needed more information before fully committing.
“Oh, come on. We just hashed that out. You’re in charge, I’m here to do exactly what you say but not sexually and we’re both going to ignore the chemistry. Where, exactly, did I lose you, Mr. LeBlanc?”
At that, he actually laughed, and the heavy, rich sound did flippy things to her insides. His deep blue eyes speared her and she got all caught up in him in a very nonprofessional way. Yeah, there might not be a whole lot of choice in the matter and she might not be the one doing the seducing. It was delicious to contemplate, either way.
“I’m not lost. Just...reassessing,” he said.
“That sounds promising. Why don’t you share your vision with me, at least, and we’ll take it from there?”
“Vision for what?”
He’d leaned into the space between them and she was having a hard time concentrating. Xavier had a very potent presence that had latched onto her skin in a wholly disturbing way. “For, um, LBC. As a charity. What’s the vision? Mission statement? That kind of thing.”
“Feed people,” he stated bluntly. “What more is there?”
“A lot. At the shelter, our goal was to give women back some control in their lives. Provide them with choices. The shelter part was just one of the mechanisms we employed.”
That had been satisfying work, even as a means to an end as she put herself through college. Sure, she’d had to fudge the dates a little on her résumé and leave off the last few years of employment so no one knew she’d worked for a news channel—which had subsequently fired her. But her drive to help people through knowledge hadn’t changed. She still believed in the value of nonprofit organizations, particularly those that served people at the poverty line.
That’s why it was so important to expose the fraud here. The money funneling through this organization should go to the people who came through the doors in need, not toward lining someone’s pocket because they saw an easy way to skim profits.
Xavier’s face turned to granite, which was his default more often than not. “You seem to forget I’m just filling in. This is not my normal world.”
All at once, the information she craved had nothing to do with LBC and everything to do with Xavier LeBlanc himself. He was such a fascinating puzzle who gave very little away. She wanted to unlock him in the worst way. “But your brother mentioned that your mother started this charity fifteen years ago. Surely you’ve been involved to some degree.”
“What you see is the sole extent of my involvement.” He waved at the desk. “This is where I’ll sit for three more months, and in that time I need to hold the best fundraiser this place has ever had. Mission statements are not my concern.”
She blinked, but his expression didn’t change. He was serious. Okay, wow.
“You’re going to have a very big problem, then. People don’t give money to fundraisers. They give to a cause they believe in. Your job is to make them believe in it. Don’t you think that in a city like Chicago there are a hundred—a thousand—places for people to donate? How do they decide? You help them decide by passionately pitching your mission statement to them.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” In the long pause, they stared at each other without blinking. “You’ve done fundraising before. Did you apply for the wrong position here?”
Yes. Yes, she had.
That was all the opening she needed to segue this potential disaster into something more her speed. “Perhaps, but only because you posted a job opening for the wrong position. Sounds like you need someone in your back pocket to tell you what to do, not the other way around. Were you not aware that you have serious deficiencies in your operating philosophy?”
Xavier leaned back in his chair as his gaze narrowed. “Can I be honest with you, Ms. Dixon?”
Oh, God, yes. Please spill all your secrets, Mr. LeBlanc.
“Only if you call me Laurel.”
His lips lifted into a brief smile that she fully expected meant he was about to argue with her. But he didn’t. “Laurel, then. You need to understand what’s happening here and I’m choosing to trust you, which is not something I do lightly.”
His tone or his smile or her own conscience tripped something inside. Guilt plowed through her stomach out of nowhere. It was one thing to dig deep enough to learn someone’s secrets when they were scamming, but she had no evidence Xavier was even involved in the fraud. What if her investigation caused problems for him?
Ugh, she was getting way ahead of herself. Her sources were credible and if there was something to uncover, Xavier would likely be happy that she’d done so. It was a public service, really. Surely he’d respect that.
“I’ll do my best to be worthy of that trust.”
He nodded once. “Then I have a confession. I am not well versed in how to run a charity. I do need help.”
She very nearly rolled her eyes. This was him being honest? “I already figured that out.”
“I’m doing my best to keep that nugget of truth from the rest of the staff,” he said wryly. “Which is why I try to stay out of their areas of expertise. That’s where you come in.”
“I hear you. You want to hide out here in the office while everyone else does the dirty work.” She stared him down as his eyebrows came together. “Too bad. You signed up to run LBC. Now do it. I’ll help. We’ll be partners.”
She stuck out her hand and waited. She needed him, whether she liked it or not. Whether he liked it or not. And the reverse was also clearly true. They would do this together or not at all. If she had a partner, the less chance she had of screwing up.
Xavier let her sweat it for about thirty seconds and then reluctantly reached out to clasp her hand for a very long beat that neither of them mistook for a simple handshake. There was too much electricity, too much unsaid for that.
The less she let him focus on that, the better.
Three (#uba28fb67-c64b-56f4-a92d-253c8cdc896e)
Partners.
That was a concept Xavier liked a whole lot, given his distinct impression that Laurel Dixon was hiding something. He liked it even better that she’d been the one to suggest working together. The closer he kept her, the easier it would be to keep an eye on her.
He trusted her about as much as he’d trust a convicted car thief with the keys to his Aston Martin.
But he also understood that his lack of trust wasn’t specific to Laurel. If he really wanted to get honest about it, his inability to stop being both suspicious and cautious had probably been at least half of Marjorie’s problem with him. That’s why he’d thought a hands-off approach with the new services manager might work best. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t shake that weird, misty feeling that sprang up inside whenever he was in the same room with Laurel Dixon. He’d hoped to avoid examining that by staying away from her.
Ms. Dixon had blown that plan to smithereens.
Jury was still out on how much wreckage he’d have to step over. Especially given the instant and volatile chemistry between them, which he’d been wholly prepared to pretend didn’t exist until she’d so eloquently refused to let him. So that was a thing. The next three months should be incredibly taxing and exceedingly painful, then.
“Partners. What happens next?” Xavier asked Laurel once he’d dropped her hand, though the severed contact didn’t eliminate the buzzing awareness arcing between them at all.
Not that he’d expected it to. Regardless of what he called the vibe between them, it wasn’t going away. The trick was managing it. Which meant it would be a bad idea to touch her again, and of course, that was all he could think about.
“Follow me.”
She slid from the seat she’d perched in when she first came into his office and glanced over her shoulder, perhaps to ensure he was doing as she commanded. As if he’d miss a second of whatever she had up her sleeve. Not likely.
Xavier trailed her to the receptionist’s desk. Adelaide’s eyes widened behind her bifocals as they approached and taut lines appeared around the woman’s mouth. He nearly growled at her just to see if she’d actually come out of her skin. What good was it to have people afraid of him if he couldn’t have fun with it occasionally?
Before he could try it, Laurel flipped a lock of her long sable-colored hair behind her back. “Today is your lucky day, Addy. You’re in charge from now on. Mr. LeBlanc has given you a promotion.”
“I did not. Oof.” Laurel’s elbow glanced off his ribs, leaving a sharp, smarting circle of shut up below his heart. “I mean...yeah. What Laurel said.”
Adelaide’s wide-eyed gaze flitted back and forth between the two of them as if she couldn’t quite get her bearings. He knew the feeling.
“That’s very generous, Mr. LeBlanc,” she squeaked. “But I don’t understand. A promotion?”
“Exactly.” Laurel beamed so brightly, Xavier could see the rays from his position behind her. “To Services Manager. You’re going to take Marjorie’s place.”
Wait, what? That was going a little far. If Adelaide had been remotely qualified or interested in the position, she would have applied for it the second the job posting had gone up. What, exactly, was Laurel up to?
“Are you sure about this?” he muttered in Laurel’s ear and caught her elbow a hairbreadth from his ribs, holding it tight just in case she was stronger than she looked.
Clearly she had a plan and intended for Xavier to follow it. The elbow to the ribs indicated that if he wanted to have a conversation about her tactics, she’d indulge him later.
“You know everything about this place, Adelaide. Tell Mr. LeBlanc,” Laurel instructed with a nauseating amount of cheer. “You gave me such a thorough tour of the place that I thought it would never end. There’s not a nook or cranny at LBC that you don’t have some sort of insight into. Is there?”
Obediently, Adelaide shook her head. “No, ma’am. I’ve been here seven years and started in the kitchen as a volunteer. I love every last board and nail in this place.”
“I could tell.” Laurel jerked her head at Xavier. “Mr. LeBlanc was just bemoaning the fact that he didn’t have anyone to help organize a fundraiser that LBC so desperately needs.”
Oh, dear God. That was not what he’d said. At all. But before he could correct the grievous misrepresentation that gave everyone the impression he was being a big baby about the tasks laid out for him, Laurel rushed on.
“I figured, this is Addy’s opportunity to really make a difference. Step up and show us all what she’s made of. You just do what Marjorie did and that’ll leave me free to help Mr. LeBlanc get some money flowing in. Are you good with that?”
When Adelaide smiled and clapped her hands like she’d just been given the biggest Christmas present, Xavier’s mouth fell open. Hastily, he closed it before anyone figured out that Laurel Dixon had just shocked the hell out of him. He didn’t shock easily, and it was even harder to remember the last time he’d been unable to control his expression.
The two women went back and forth on the logistics for a furious couple of minutes until Xavier couldn’t take it any longer.
“So, that’s it?” he interrupted. “Adelaide, you can do what Marjorie did and everyone’s good with that?”
Both women swiveled to stare at him. Laurel raised a brow. “Sorry, did we lose you again? Yes. Adelaide is in charge. She’ll do a fantastic job.”
Xavier should have asked more questions back in his office, like whether partner meant something different where Laurel had come from. When she’d thrown out the idea that they’d be working closely together, he’d reassessed his idea of how their interaction might go. And he’d come to the conclusion that perhaps she could come to him for approval on the budget, or maybe to get his help vetting new volunteers. That sort of thing.
He had not once suggested that she sign herself up to take over his inheritance test. That was his. He needed to prove to his father—and himself—that he could and would handle anything the old man threw at him. Ten million dollars was a cheap price to pay in order to get back on even ground, regain his confidence and lose the edge of vulnerability he’d been carrying since the reading of the will.
No one was allowed to get in the way of that.
“Excuse us, please,” he said to Adelaide through gritted teeth.
Pulling Laurel back into his office, he shut the door and leaned on it, half afraid she’d find a way to open it again despite the hundred and seventy-five pounds of man holding it shut.
Instantly, he realized his mistake.
Laurel’s presence filled the room, blanketing him with that otherworldly, mystical nonsense that he couldn’t think through.
“What the hell was all that about?” he demanded and couldn’t find a shred of remorse at how rough it came out. “You shuffled off all your duties to Adelaide—without asking, by the way. What, exactly, are you going to be doing?”
“Helping you, of course.” She patted his arm and the contact sang through his flesh clear to the bone. “We have a fundraiser to organize. Which I’m pretty sure is what I just said.”
The trap had been laid so neatly that he still hadn’t quite registered whether the teeth had closed around his ankle or not. “You don’t have enough experience fundraising.”
She shrugged. “I do have some. What’s your hang-up about experience? Adelaide doesn’t have any experience.” She accompanied that statement with air quotes. “But she’s been learning on the job for years by following Marjorie around. She’ll do great.”
“Running a charity takes an iron fist,” he shot back instantly. “Not an owl face and a lot of head nodding.”
Laurel just laughed. “Owl face? Better not let her hear that. Women who wear glasses don’t take kindly to name-calling.”
“I didn’t mean—” The headache brewing behind his eyes spread to his temples. “I called her an owl because she just stands there and looks wise. Instead of telling people what to do. I—Never mind.”
Laurel Dixon had officially driven him around the bend. And now Adelaide had just been given a promotion that she seemed super pleased with. He couldn’t take it away, though likely he’d have to spend a lot of time following her around to make sure she didn’t drive operations into the ground. Hiring Laurel had been one thing, because at least he could blame that on Val if it didn’t work out, but this was a whole other mess.
One he had no graceful way of undoing without upsetting the admin. Or Laurel, who might do God knew what as her next trick.
“Okay. Fine,” he ground out. “Adelaide is Marjorie. She’s going to be great. You’re going to help with fundraising. Are you going to be great, too?”
“Of course.”
She flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder again, and he couldn’t help but wonder why she wore it down when her hands were constantly fiddling with it. She should wear it up. Then he wouldn’t be tempted to put his own hands through it just to see if it felt as satiny and lush as it looked.
He crossed his arms. No point in tempting fate. “Fantastic. What’s the plan, General?”
“Nicknames already?” Her long eyelashes swept her cheeks as she treated him to a very long, pointed once-over that lingered in inappropriate places. “I thought that wouldn’t happen until much later in our association. Under...different circumstances.”
In bed, she meant. The implication was clear. And he definitely shouldn’t be feeling the spark of her suggestion in those inappropriate places. “It fit. Can’t help it.”
“Don’t worry. I like it.” The atmosphere in the office got a whole lot heavier as she stared at him. “And I like that you’ve already clued in that I don’t sit around and wait for things to happen to me.”
“I knew that a half second after Adelaide told me you were here for an interview that I hadn’t arranged,” he told her bluntly. “You’re an easy read.”
Something flitted through her gaze. A shadow. He couldn’t put his finger on what she had going on beneath the surface, but that gut-deep feeling told him again she had something to hide.
How many secrets might she spill if he did take her into his bed?
Once that thought formed, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wasn’t like that, not normally. But Laurel had barreled right through what he’d call his normal and redefined everything. Maybe he needed to return the favor.
