Very few people call me by my first name, but I won’t stop her if she wants to.
“Right.” She nods. “This is all about the business.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Juliet
I thought Kavan Bane in a three-piece suit was a treat for the eyes. Seeing him without the jacket, in just the vest, with the ends of his dark hair brushing his shirt collar, quickens the beats of my heart.
He looks like one of the devilish Rakes on the show that I can’t seem to get enough of.
He’s standing in the doorway of my office, glaring at me.
If this has to do with the fact that I called him Kavan instead of Mr. Bane, he can spank me.
I hold in a laugh and maybe even a tiny moan while I think about that.
He’s the type of man who must fuck a woman senseless. He probably leaves women in such an orgasm-fueled trance that they can’t remember their own names.
I’ve never had an experience like that.
I can’t recall most of the names of the handful of men I’ve slept with in the past. Regrettably, they are all that forgettable.
“Juliet,” my name snaps off his lips. “I just spoke to Nara.”
I know where this is going.
It seems that Nara is required to plan a three-course menu for every meal. She’s been doing that almost daily for two years. She explained that to me when she presented today’s lunch menu to me when Kavan stepped out of my office to take a call.
I told her to prepare whatever inspired her for lunch.
I’m guessing that wasn’t the right choice.
I rest both elbows on my desk. “It’s about lunch, right?”
Leaning one of his biceps against the doorjamb, he crosses his arms over his chest.
He has the whole bad boy/boss man vibe down pat.
There’s a lot more to him than meets the eye. He’s thoughtful, even if he’d never admit it. When I mentioned his parents, I saw the subtle shift in his expression.
He may have thought he was being stoic, but sadness seeped into his eyes before he tore his gaze away from me.
“You didn’t choose.”
I nod. “I like surprises.”
He doesn’t say a word, but I swear I spot a ghost of a grin on his mouth. “Did you smile?”
His lips fall into a straight line. “No.”
I push up to my feet. “You did.”
“Juliet.” My name comes out with a bite of frustration attached to it. “Choose what you want for lunch.”
“Nara is going to choose.”
“I want you to choose.”
Unable to comprehend why this matters so much, I stand my ground because I don’t think he deals with that often, if at all.
I’ve learned that the best way to defend yourself is to own your actions, thoughts, and beliefs.
Right now, I believe that Nara will prepare something worthy of a five-star restaurant for lunch.
I’d be happy with a PB and J sandwich, but I don’t think Kavan knows what that tastes like.
“Why does it matter?” I smooth a hand over the front of my blouse, my fingers scattering up the row of pearl buttons.
His gaze follows that path until it rests on my breasts before he looks me in the eye.
Staring into his intense blue eyes, I suddenly realize what this is all about.
It’s control.
He’s giving up one small slice of control to me. He’s handing it to me as a gift, even if he’s not fully aware that’s what he’s doing.
“I’ll go talk to Nara,” I say as I round the desk. “I’ll choose the lunch menu, Kavan.”
He stands stoic in my path in the doorway.
I look up to meet his gaze with mine.
His jaw is less tensed, his brow not furrowed anymore. “Good.”
“After lunch, we’ll get back to the interview?” I ask.
“Drew will take you home after lunch. I have meetings all afternoon.”
“But,” I begin to argue that at this rate, it will take me months to finish the article. I stop myself, though, because a snail’s pace may just be what I need to dive into the innermost corners of Mr. Bane’s mind and his heart so I can deliver the article worthy of a byline in New York Viewpoint.
“But?” he repeats softly.
“But, I’d prefer to walk,” I blurt out as an excuse. “I need to run a few errands.”
His hand moves toward my chin, but he pulls it back abruptly. “Stay out of alleys, Juliet. I won’t be there to save you.”
I tilt my chin up as a beacon, but his hand falls to his side. “I can save myself.”
“I’m sure you can,” he says before he steps to the side to give me room to pass by.
I had no idea lunch would be a threesome.
Nigel appeared at the table just as I was about to take a seat. I hadn’t heard him come back to the penthouse, but that’s likely because I was tucked away in my office, searching Google for anything it could tell me about Kavan Bane.
The man himself went back into his office after I told him I’d choose the menu.
Now, we’re seated at the dining room table, eating bowls of spiced carrot soup as an appetizer.
There are Brie and fig salads to come and fresh fruit tarts.
I’ll be skipping dinner tonight.
“What made you want to pursue a career in journalism, Juliet?”
I look toward Nigel since he asked the question. “I crave information. I find people fascinating.”
Nigel’s gaze doesn’t falter. “My mother was a journalist.”
“For a magazine?” I ask.
“Newspaper,” he answers swiftly. “She started as a reporter but worked her way up to senior editor.”
“Impressive.” I toss him a smile. “Did you ever think about following in her footsteps?”
“Me?” he says with an exaggerated poke in his chest with his finger. “That’s not my forte.”
When Nara arrives with three plates heavily loaded with fresh salad greens, figs, cheese, and a delicious smelling dressing, the conversation stalls.
I thank her, as does Nigel, when she clears the soup bowls.
I slide my fork around my plate, tugging on a piece of lettuce with the tines. “What is your forte, Nigel? Besides, your job with Bane Enterprises.”
He sets his fork down. “I’m not sure I follow, Juliet.”
I steal a glance at Kavan to find him watching the two of us in silence. Redirecting my attention back to Nigel, I tap the top of his hand with mine. “When you’re not working at Bane, what do you like to do? What are you really good at?”
His cheeks flood with pink. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Tell me.” I lower my voice. “If I had to guess, I think it must be related to birds.”
That’s enough to bring a smile back to his face. “I bird watch in Central Park.”
“You do?” Kavan’s voice breaks into our conversation.
Nigel looks at him. “As often as my schedule allows.”
“That’s fascinating.” I lean back in my chair. “Are there many different birds to see there?”
“So many.” His face lights up. “I sort them all by color. I have an entire binder filled with pictures, dates, facts…all of it is there.”