Home > British Black Sheep(8)

British Black Sheep(8)
Author: Lauren Smith

The New York assignment had been exciting, but he was glad to be home. Of course, that meant catching up on everything he missed while he was gone. Seven days was the equivalent of half a year’s work for an investment banker. He worked impossibly long hours and saw more of the showers in his office building than at his own home.

Alec turned back to his desk and knocked his briefcase over. The pirate romance novel slid across the wood floor. He scrambled to pick it up before someone noticed, but it was too late.

“A bit of light reading?” Nathan Montgomery asked from the doorway. The other man’s eyes settled on the book on the floor between them, his lip curling in a mocking sneer.

“Stow it, Monty,” he snapped. Nathan was the office piranha. Whenever he smelled blood in the water, he started feeding with a frenzy. He was not anyone’s friend.

Nathan changed tact. “How was New York? You missed a lot here last week.”

Alec raised a brow. Nathan was a scrappy fellow who’d worked his way up in the world. Alec would have admired him under normal circumstances, but Nathan had been raised in the East End in a slum and held a grudge against just about everyone, especially someone like Alec. Nathan saw him as nothing more than a spoiled brat born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The future Earl of Merryvale. Alec represented everything Nathan despised. And it pissed Alec off.

“If you don’t have something relevant to say…” he warned.

Nathan’s wiry frame tensed as he sensed he’d pushed too far. “Mr. Eppley wants to see you.” Nathan’s mouth twisted into a smirk as he walked off.

Fucking nutter. Always trying to stir things up. Alec tucked the pirate romance back into his attaché case and headed down to his boss’s office.

Howard Eppley was an old lion compared to the young bloods that filled most of the offices on their floor. Investment banking demanded energy and excitement, and most men burned out by the time they were forty. Eppley hadn’t. He’d made the transition to vice president and now supervised men like Alec, which left him well above the demands of time and energy that broke the backs of the younger men beneath him.

Alec rapped his knuckles on the half open door. “Mr. Eppley?”

“That you, Halston?” Eppley called out. “Come in.”

Alex looked inside the corner office. Eppley held a putter and was lining up to hit a ball into a sleek black coffee mug on the floor. At fifty-four, Eppley was still fit, even though his dark hair was streaked with gray at the temples. He was on wife number three, surprisingly not for infidelity but simply because the first two had not understood the nature of the job or its demands. He was still good friends with both of them.

“Glad to see you survived New York. Those chaps in Manhattan make us look like we’re on a bloody holiday all the time.” Eppley lined up a shot and putted. The ball rolled twelve feet over an expensive oriental carpet and bounced into and back out of the cup. Eppley grinned and set his putter aside before looking seriously at Alec.

“Word hasn’t gotten around the office yet, but we’ll be handling a huge merger over Christmas and through the New Year. I would like for you to be in charge. Monty knows something is up, but I don’t like him. He’d sell his own gran if it made him look good.” Eppley leaned against his desk. “Can I count on you to handle it?”

“Absolutely, sir. I will be in the country for the holidays, but I assume I’ll be able to handle things remotely.”

“I thought you didn’t care for the holidays?”

Alec shrugged. “I don’t, but the family is insisting this year.”

“Yes, of course. Well, If you’re sure you can handle it when the paperwork comes in.”

“I can, sir.”

As Alec turned to leave, Eppley spoke again. “Be careful, Halston. You’ll be facing some big decisions soon and the paths offered will be very different.”

Alec slid his hands into his trouser pockets and gazed at the skyline of Eppley’s window. He knew what his boss was hinting at.

“Which path did you choose?”

Eppley was quiet a moment. “Looking back? Not the right one. People in this line of work are either desperate to prove something or desperate to escape something. Make sure you’re here for the right reasons.”

Alec could only nod before he left Eppley’s office. Did he want to prove something or was he running from something? His mouth suddenly tasted bitter as he realized it just might be a bit of both.

 

 

Burning twelve hours in the airport was not easy, especially when Brie realized she’d lost her book. She’d returned to the gate to check with the crew from her plane, but they were already gone. Then she’d been forced to go through customs, collect her luggage and check in for her next flight. After that she’d gone to the nearest bookshop by her gate and bought a couple of romance novels by her favorite author, the same stories that had been filmed at Merryvale Court. Of course, in the books the house was called something else. She’d already read the entire series but couldn’t resist the urge to reread them.

She’d also bought some snacks and hopped between gates as her flight to Manchester kept changing gates for some reason. By early evening, she was desperate to get on her plane and get out of the airport. When the attendant at the gate finally started calling first class, she collected her things and headed to the growing line.

“Excuse me.” She bumped into a tall man with dark gold hair.

The man stepped aside as she passed. “Sorry.”

She froze. “Alec?” She’d spent all day trying to forget him and the feeling of leaving something important undone when she hadn’t asked him for his number or email.

He blinked in equal shock. “Brie?”

“Yeah…” She swept her gaze over his body.

He’d lost the suit and wore a black sweater that clung to his broad muscled shoulders and hung a bit looser at his tapered waist. His jeans were snug, but not too snug. He looked…good. Maybe even better than before. Brie knew it was just her libido talking but damn…he made her forget every promise she’d ever made to be rational when it came to picking men. It really was like Preston all over again. She totally had a type and that was not a good thing.

“You’re on this flight?” she asked.

“I am… You are too?” Alec bent to open his briefcase and pulled out a book. Her book. “You left this behind on the last flight.”

“God, you found it!” She accepted the book with a grin but couldn’t resist teasing him. “Why don’t you keep it? I own the audio edition.”

“Of course, you do,” he replied with a roll of his eyes but he returned the book to his briefcase.

“So…you’re headed to Manchester?” She got in line behind him as they started to board.

“Spending the holidays with my family.”

She picked on up on his reluctance. “Not looking forward to it?”

“I despise the holidays. They are unpleasant.”

Wow, that she hadn’t expected. Such a blunt answer…and a sad one at that.

“Is it the holiday or the family that bothers you?”

Alec spoke over his shoulder as he stepped onto the plane ahead of her. “My grandfather died on Christmas Day. I don’t really like to talk about it.” This time his tone carried a heavy finality that warned her not to probe any deeper.

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