It’s impressive and will be short-lived.
“You’re Kavan Bane,” she whispers. “You’re the man in charge of Bane Enterprises.”
Those puzzle pieces fell into place quickly based on my introduction and the name on the front of this building.
With both hands curled around the edge of my desk, I lean closer to her. “Correct, but there’s more.”
“More?” She swallows, luring my gaze to the elegant column of her neck.
“You’re going to rush out of here tonight and research me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she admits. “I need to prepare for the assignment.”
“The focus of your assignment is how I’m going to lead Bane Enterprises into the future,” I explain.
Her ass edges forward on her chair. She’s close enough now that I can smell the subtle fragrance of her perfume.
“I’ll research the company,” she says with confidence. “By Monday morning, I’ll know Bane Enterprises inside and out.”
That’s commendable but unrealistic.
Any online search she conducts will yield thousands of results that have little to do with the inner workings of this organization.
“By the end of the day, you’ll discover something about me.” I stop to stare into her eyes. “Something that is completely off-limits when it comes to your assignment. You’re not permitted to ask me any questions regarding it. I will never offer any details in relation to it. Is that clear?”
Curiosity lures her even closer to me. “What will I discover, Mr. Bane?”
I don’t break our gaze as I say the words that once felt foreign to me but have now become as much a part of me as my skin and bones. “I killed my father five years ago.”
Chapter Fourteen
Juliet
The key to being a good journalist is to never let your emotions steal the focus of the job.
My favorite professor gave that piece of advice to me during my first semester in college.
It has stuck with me since.
I sit and absorb each of Mr. Bane’s words.
If I break now, there is a very good chance I’ll lose this assignment and any chance of securing a job with New York Viewpoint.
“That’s off-limits,” I state clearly. “Understood, Mr. Bane.”
I can instantly tell that my reaction isn’t what he anticipated. With narrowing eyes, his jaw tenses under his five o’clock shadow.
“You want the focus of the article to be on your business,” I go on, convinced that my voice is coming out sounding strong and in control.
That’s the opposite of how I feel inside.
All of the cloak and dagger stuff that preceded this meeting suddenly makes sense.
No phone, no pictures, no speaking of this assignment to anyone but Mr. Marks.
All of that was done to protect the man standing in front of me.
Surely, if he were guilty of the crime he just confessed to, he’d be serving a life sentence at Rikers.
I glance down at the skirt of my dress. Circling a fingertip around one of the pink roses in the patterned fabric, I take a breath before I look up and into his face again. “Do you have materials you think would be beneficial for me to go over? Anything that is relevant to the article I’ll be writing?”
His arms cross his chest again. “I want to present a fresh perspective on Bane Enterprises, so I’d prefer if you garner all your information directly from me.”
“We’ll start on Monday?” I ask.
“Be ready for the driver at nine a.m. sharp, Juliet.” He tilts his chin. “You can expect to put in a full day. I anticipate the process taking no more than a few days.”
After that bombshell he dropped on me, I was hoping to wrap this up by lunchtime on Monday.
“I’ll be ready.” I stay seated because I sense I need to wait for him to lead us to the end of this meeting.
He studies me. “You moved to New York recently.”
It’s not a question, and I can’t say that shocks me. He strikes me as the type of man who runs multiple background checks a day. He probably knows the entire life history of the tailor he buys his custom suits from.
“Six months ago.”
“That’s why you had no idea who I am.”
It’s egotistical to assume that everyone in the five boroughs knows his name, but until I research the details surrounding his father’s death, I won’t know how sensational they are.
Maybe he’s one of those trust fund kids who couldn’t wait for the payout.
I’d guess he’s a few years older than me.
He carries himself with the grace and confidence of a wealthy individual.
They’re easy to spot in this city.
Honestly, he’d stand out in any crowd and not because of his pedigree.
“My only concern is your business, sir,” I say in an even tone.
That lures the corners of his mouth up toward a smile, but it stops short of that. “That’s all for tonight, Juliet.”
That’s my cue to get the hell out of here, so I stand.
“There will be someone waiting at the elevator to escort you to the car.” He reaches to press a button on his desk phone.
I wait for the expected voice to ask what they can do for him, but instead I hear the ding of an elevator announcing its arrival in the distance.
His gaze trails up to meet mine again. “Goodnight, Juliet.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Bane,” I say before I slide the strap of my purse over my head and make a quick exit out of his office.
Thirty minutes later, I’m at the bookstore around the corner from my apartment, still trying to catch my breath as I balance six thick books in my hand.
“Can I help?’ A cute guy wearing dark-rimmed eyeglasses offers his hands to me. “I’ll put these on the counter. When you’re ready to check out, they’ll be waiting for you.”
I give him a better look. He’s more than cute. His blonde hair is cut short. His green eyes are a shade lighter than freshly cut grass. “Do you work here?”
“I’m the owner.” He motions for me to hand the books to him. “I’m Slate.”
His name doesn’t fit his image, but I kind of like that. I like his smile too.
“Juliet,” I offer as I push the books at him.
“Such a beautiful name.” He smiles before his gaze drops to the books. “It looks like you’re a fan of true crime.”
I’m not, but I’m a big fan of promotions, so I need to read up on who Kavan Bane is, even if none of that information can find its way into my article.
I have to understand the man if I’m going to present an article that is good enough to secure me the job I desperately want.
The online search I did in the SUV on my way home spelled out the crucial facts of the night Mr. Bane spoke of.
He was with his father, Ares Bane, in Miami when it happened. According to witnesses, there was arguing in the hotel suite that Kavan and his father were sharing, then a loud crash. Moments later, his father’s body was discovered in the parking lot beneath a broken window in their suite.
Kavan was arrested within hours.
Just weeks before he was to stand trial, the charges were dropped.