King of Wall Street: a sexy, standalone, contemporary romance Read online

  I found myself spending more and more time in my office with the door closed in an attempt to create some distance between Harper and me. Ordinarily, I’d spend time out on the floor with people, checking in on how things were going. But the open-plan area felt like contaminated land. When I had to interact with her, I addressed her as Ms. Jayne as a way of keeping her at arm’s length. It wasn’t working. I pushed my hands into my hair. I needed a plan. I couldn’t have some junior researcher changing the way I did business, because the way I did business had meant King & Associates was the best at what they did, and the whole of Wall Street knew it.

  Distractions were the last thing I needed right now. My focus was split enough as it was. Living with Amanda full time was more challenging than I’d expected and it meant a lot more time out of the office as I spent more time in Connecticut. I was also trying to land a new account with an investment bank King & Associates hadn’t worked for before, and I had a key meeting with an insider coming up.

  “Come in,” I called to the knock at the door, hoping it wasn’t Harper with her revised report.

  “Good morning, Max,” Donna said as she entered my office, closing the door behind her.

  “Thanks.” I took the tall cup of coffee she offered to me, trying to read her face. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. We have a lot to get through.” We had a daily lunchtime briefing.

  I reached for my collar. “Is it me, or is it hotter in here than normal?”

  Donna shook her head. “No, and I’m not turning up the A/C, either. It’s ridiculously cold in here.”

  I sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing with Donna about. Most things weren’t. That was what I’d learned from the women in my life—pick your battles.

  “So,” Donna said as she slipped into the seat in front of my desk. The same chair Harper had sat in on Friday. Harper had sat with her legs crossed and her arms fixed to the arms of the chair, almost as if she were bracing herself for a bumpy landing. But it had given me a perfect view of her high tight breasts and her long brown hair sitting gently on her shoulders.

  “What’s going on?” Donna asked.

  “Huh?” I asked, glancing up to look at her.

  “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

  I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. I needed to focus. “I’m fine. I just have a million things going on in my head. It’s going to be a busy week.”

  “Okay then, let’s get started. You have a lunch tomorrow with Wilson at D&G Consulting. It’s fixed for twelve at Tribeca Grill.”

  “I suppose we can’t cancel?” Wilson was a competitor and such an egomaniac that canceling would be a problem. And because he couldn’t help but be a braggart, I usually got some useful information from our lunches.

  “Yes, it’s too late. You’ve canceled the last three times.”

  “And we can’t go to Joey’s?”

  Donna just raised her eyebrows. I sighed as I reminded myself this was another battle not worth fighting.

  “And Harper wanted some time this afternoon as she’s revised her report.”

  I started to click at my calendar. I’d seen Harper on Friday. I needed to be seeing less of her not more.

  “What are you doing? I have your calendar right here.” She pointed to her tablet. “You have time this afternoon at four.”

  “I don’t think we need a meeting. She should just leave what she’s done with you, and I’ll look at it when I can.” I stared down at my notepad, writing down Lunch with Wilson for no particular reason.

  “You usually like a follow-up meeting.”

  “I’m busy and haven’t got time to go through work that’s probably not good enough.” That was unfair. Harper’s work hadn’t been bad. It had some mistakes in it, but nothing I wouldn’t expect of someone who’d never worked with me before—the quality I was used to from new junior researchers was far sloppier and I was demanding, I knew that. She hadn’t managed to get hold of Donny, but he was a hierarchical son of a bitch. Asking her to speak to him was asking an almost impossible task.

  Turns out she was good at her job—she’d even had some really creative insights—so it didn’t look as though she was going to give me a reason to fire her any time soon.

  That could be a problem.

  “Was the report really that bad?” Donna asked.

  “No, but I don’t need her sitting there watching me read it through, either.” I’d found it utterly distracting on Friday, having her just a couple of yards away. I could barely concentrate because I’d been trying to place her scent—a kind of musky, sexy smell. The way her hands had gripped and then loosened around the arms of the chair—I found myself getting hard at the thought of those hands sliding down my chest and around my cock.

  Fuck, she was a problem.

  “Especially if you’re going to make me have lunch with Wilson,” I added when I glanced at Donna and she was looking at me with narrowed eyes. I didn’t want her asking any more questions about Harper, even if it was about the quality of her work.

  She took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to speak out of turn—”

  “Then don’t,” I snapped. What was she going to say? Could she tell I was treating Harper differently? That I was attracted to her?

  Attracted. Shit. I needed to back up. She was just a pretty face with fantastic tits and a great ass. I knew plenty of women like that. My phone had plenty of women like that on speed dial who would come over and help me get Harper out of my system tonight if I thought it would help. She was nothing special.

  “You’re being pretty harsh with her, and I don’t think it’s about her performance in the office.”

  Pins and needles crackled through me as if my hand had been caught in the cookie jar. I froze, not wanting to react in a way that would confirm any suspicion she had.

  “Has this got anything to do with Amanda?” she asked, her head cocked to one side.

  My shoulders sagged. She’d not read anything into my interactions with Harper after all.

  “It must be an adjustment for both of you. How long since Pandora left?” she asked.

  “About six weeks. Yes, it’s an adjustment.” I raised my eyebrows. Amanda’s mother, Pandora, and her husband, Jason, had flown to Zurich because Jason had a new job. “I’ve always been so involved in her life; I didn’t realize how much would change.” I’d always shared custody of my fourteen-year-old daughter, but for me that had meant weekends and holidays. I was quickly realizing that for the past fourteen years, I’d gotten the easy bit, the fun times with Amanda. I hadn’t had to concern myself with homework, hair dye, or makeup.

  “We’re getting used to each other. And the commute is a challenge.”

  I was used to staying in Connecticut for the weekends only, but Pandora and I’d agreed Amanda should stay in her current school. So now I was in Manhattan just two nights a week, when Amanda stayed with her grandparents. I worked on the train and after Amanda went to bed, but it wasn’t what I was used to.

  Neither was the attitude I was getting from my daughter. “She wants to dye her hair. I’ve said no a million times, but she won’t drop it.” I sighed. I wasn’t used to having to repeat myself. “I swear I’m going to get home one day to find she’s done it anyway.”

  Donna laughed. “Teenage girls are a challenge. I’m happy I’m still a few years away from that. I mean, I know what used to go through my head at fourteen. It’s not pretty.”

  I had no idea what went on in Amanda’s head most of the time. “I’m not sure I want to know,” I replied, scrubbing my hands over my face.

  Donna grinned. “Believe me, you’re better off in the dark. Try to say yes sometimes, that way everything isn’t a fight. What does Pandora say?”

  “That she’d cut my balls off if I let her dye her hair.”

  “Well at least you’re on the same page.”

  Pandora and I agreed about most things when it came to our daughter. Because we’d both been so young w
hen Pandora had gotten pregnant, we’d started with a fresh slate. There was no baggage between us. No ill feelings. We’d both just done the best we could. We’d briefly flirted with the idea of trying to make things work between us, but neither of us tried that hard. It’d been a pre-college fling and nothing more.

  I wasn’t sure whether or not it was a conscious decision, but from the moment Amanda was born, I knew my life was all about my daughter. Yes, my business was important, but it was needing to support Amanda, wanting her to have every advantage, that had driven me. I was determined that even though Pandora and I had made a mistake in getting pregnant, having a daughter never would be. She was the only important thing in my life and the reason there’d never been room for anyone else.

  Support from our parents meant we’d both finished college. Pandora had met Jason in her sophomore year and they’d married shortly after graduation. I’d been an usher and Amanda had sat on my lap during the ceremony. It was a weird setup but it worked all these years. But looking back, Pandora had shouldered the day-to-day of bringing Amanda up. Now her baton had been passed to me.

  “Yeah. It’s more of a change than I expected, though. Before if she’d asked to dye her hair I’d have either told her to ask her mother, or said no and dropped her off at home, leaving Pandora with the fallout. Now it’s all on me.”

  “Remember, Amanda’s probably missing her mother, too.”

  “It was her idea for them to go without her. Jason was ready to turn down the job in Zurich.”

  “I know, but she’s at the age when sometimes she can see an adult’s point of view, and yet sometimes still be a kid.”

  I nodded and my heart tugged in that way only Amanda could elicit. She was only fourteen. Christ, you couldn’t pay me enough to go back to that time. Everything was just so awkward. “They Skype all the time. I think I have more to do with Pandora now than I ever did before. We literally Skyped all through dinner last night.” I laughed. “It was nice actually. I think Pandora’s worried she hasn’t done the right thing leaving her with me.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine. You just need to get used to each other.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I hope if she—” My FaceTime chimed. “Here she is now.” I picked up my phone. “Hey, Donna’s here, say hi.”

  “Hey, Donna,” my daughter replied.

  “Hi, Amanda. You look so pretty.”

  “But I’d look better with blond hair, right?”

  Donna chuckled and stood. “I’m so not getting into that. I’ll give you guys a few minutes.”

  “Hey, peanut. What’s up?” I asked as Donna closed the door behind her.

  “Was just wondering when you were coming home.”

  I checked the clock on my laptop. It was only noon. “Probably not until eight. Marion’s there, right?”

  My housekeeper had known Amanda since she was a baby so was the perfect after-school and holiday sitter. This week Amanda was on break.

  “Yeah, she’s here. I just thought maybe you’d be back early today.”

  My heart squeezed again. Ninety percent of the time she drove me nuts, but it was moments like these that I lived for. She might be fourteen, but sometimes she still needed her dad.

  “How was your morning?”

  “Ugh. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Are you still fighting with Samantha? You know you’ll feel better if you get it out. Problems are like shit—”

  “Daaad.”

  I chuckled. She didn’t like any talk that involved bowels or farting, so I teased her with it every chance I got.

  “Samantha got asked to the dance already,” she mumbled.

  That caught my attention. “What do you mean asked? Like a boy asked her? On a date?” My throat started to constrict and I coughed. “You’re in middle school, for Christ’s sake—you can’t be dating.” Amanda’s eighth grade dance was occupying an awful lot of space in my daughter’s head. I’d have preferred math or geography got her focus.

  “I’m fourteen, not twelve.”

  Was there a difference?

  “But you’re going with Patti and all your friends, aren’t you?” I tried to keep the rising panic I felt from reflecting in my tone.

  “Sure but—”

  “You want a boy to ask you and he hasn’t?” I desperately wanted her to say no, to deny my worst nightmare wasn’t about to come true.

  “No. Not yet. Thanks for reminding me. I’m going to call Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Amanda, don’t go. What—”

  She hung up. Jesus, what had I done now? I wasn’t getting anything right at the moment. Things were so much easier when she lived with her mother. Up until the move, I could do no wrong. All I had to do was tickle her, crack a joke, read her a bedtime story and she thought I was amazing. Now everything I did led to an eye roll or a Daaad.

  Fuck. I needed to call to Pandora. Maybe I could send Amanda over to Zurich the weekend of the dance? That way, there would be no boys, no dating and I wouldn’t have to worry about going to jail for murder. My daughter was fourteen—she wasn’t ready for the reality of the male species.

  “Come in,” I barked at the loud rap on the door. Harper entered the room. I groaned. Being in the same room as her was the very last thing I needed.

  “What?” I asked as she strode toward me.

  “The revised Bangladesh report.” She held up some papers.

  “You could have left it with Donna.”

  She placed the report down on my desk with a bang. “I’m sure if I’d left it with Donna, you’d have told me I should have handed it to you directly.”

  Oh. Sass. I hadn’t been expecting that. I had to bite down a grin. She was right; I was giving her a hard time. But it wasn’t personal. Okay, it was a little bit personal. She just irritated me. I prided myself on being unemotional at work. I’d always been able to separate the different areas of my life, to shut one world down while I was in another. Harper blurred the lines. During our meetings I fixated on the curve of her neck, or the pull of her sweater across her breasts. I’d be left trying to figure out her scent or imagine how her skin would feel under my fingers. I tried to shut that part of my imagination down. Over and over.

  I stared at the screen of my laptop. “Well now you’re here, just leave it on my desk and I’ll try to get to it later.”

  “I’ll leave your sandwich with Donna then,” she said as she turned on her heel. Was she wearing a new dress? It looked good on her, showing off her ass and the sway of her hips while being high necked and demure.

  I didn’t have time to answer as she headed out and slammed the door.

  Jesus, I was getting attitude everywhere I turned today. Was there a full moon? I picked up my cell and dialed Amanda. No answer.

  I had a pile of papers to get through, but I wanted to get to the bottom of the situation with Amanda. If she was hoping to go to her dance with a date, we had a lot to talk about. I pulled all my things together. I’d work on the train. Leaving the office would be a double bonus—I could be with my daughter and put some distance between me and Harper. But it wasn’t a long-term solution. I couldn’t just stop coming into the office to avoid Harper. I needed a plan to keep her away from me. A way of making sure she didn’t want anything to do with me.

  *

  The journey back to Connecticut had unwound me, and I was able to focus better with every mile put between me and Harper.

  “Pancakes?” Amanda asked as she skulked into the kitchen. The French doors were open and a light breeze circled around us. Despite us being anything but a traditional family, I’d always liked that this house had a traditional family feel. It had none of the sleek lines, gloss, and glamour of my New York apartment but I liked both of them, felt at home either way.

  I nodded, cracking an egg into a bowl. Since she’d transitioned to solid food, Amanda and I had shared pancakes on Sunday mornings and talked. Pancakes were our thing.

  “You’re home early,�
� she said. She’d hinted that she wanted me home on the phone, but she’d never expect it. It was nice to be able to surprise her. She understood work was important but that she always came first. In so many ways she was mature, but every now and then I’d get a reminder she was still fourteen.

  I nodded again.

  “Like half a day early,” she added.

  “Thought I’d spend some time with my favorite lady. I sent Marion home, so we’re having pancakes.” Marion cooked for both of us on the nights I was home. Two nights a week Amanda’s two sets of grandparents fought over her. Because she’d spent so much time with them when she was little, it was almost as if she had three sets of parents, and my two sisters provided the aunt input.

  Amanda hopped up onto one of the barstools at the breakfast bar, watching as I whisked up the batter.

  “Speak to your mom today?” I asked. I’d learned I couldn’t just launch in and ask Amanda who she was hoping to ask her to the dance and on what basis. No, I had to wait for her to talk. Lucky for me, Amanda was a talker.

  “Nope. Not yet.”

  I stayed silent, trying to encourage her to speak.

  “Bobby Clapham invited Samantha to the dance.”

  I gripped the whisk harder but kept my mouth shut. I had to hear her out.

  “And I thought that Callum Ryder would ask me, but he hasn’t said anything.”

  Fourteen. No one told me dating was going to start this early. Could I call Pandora and agree we would lock Amanda in her room until she turned twenty-one? I could give up work and home school her for a few years, then she could do a college correspondence course. It was an option.

  “Callum Ryder, he’s in your class?” I’d never heard her talk about him. Or maybe I had and I’d just taken no notice. Because Amanda liked to talk, I tuned out large chunks of what she said. It was just too much to take in—all the friends, the squabbling, the concerns that would last five seconds. I couldn’t keep up. The stuff I did take in passed through my brain quickly, and I retained almost nothing about her friendships at school. I was beginning to realize such an approach may have been a mistake.